“I understand the terminology, Mrs. Carleton.”
“Yes,” she said. “Well, what I will offer you is this: if you sign a legal agreement that if you cannot repay the loan you will sell your company to me—and no one else—in return, I will leave the original offer intact.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I assure you, Mr. Harley, that I will know every move you make. If you try to find some other company with which you can merge, for example, I’ll find out about it and I’ll destroy you.”
“That’s very plain talking,” he said, his voice still calm, controlled. He could break her so easily, at least physically. That thought shook him a bit. Physical dominance was abhorrent to him, yet this damned woman made him want to choke her with his bare hands. He looked at the high-neck cream blouse she was wearing and wanted to laugh at himself. He wondered briefly why she wasn’t wearing any jewelry. Surely she owned enough to buy stock in Fort Knox.
“I mean it, Mr. Harley.”
“Mrs. Carleton,” he said quietly, his eyes fastened on her face, “I can assure you that I won’t sell my company to anyone.”
“Else. Anyone else, Mr. Harley.”
“As you wish.” Again he shrugged.
“You will have no choice.”
He merely smiled at her. Elizabeth wanted to strike him. She realized her hands were fists, that he saw they were fists, and quickly splayed her fingers. “Then you refuse to sign the agreement?”
“Why don’t you give me a copy of the agreement and I’ll look it over.”
Elizabeth said very softly, “You won’t be able to repay the loan, Mr. Harley. Come now, you must be reasonable about it.”
Jonathan rose smoothly, gracefully. He stared down at her for a long time. “Would you like to have lunch? You could celebrate your victory. It’s just a bit premature, but I won’t mind.”
She stared back at him, her eyes wide, completely nonplussed.
“You’ll have to recommend the restaurant, though. I don’t know any in this area.”
“You’re certifiable if you think you can change my mind.”
“No, I don’t think you’d change your mind if your life depended on it.”
“Then why?”
“I’ll be hungry in another hour or so. I don’t want to fly back home just yet. Besides, my flight isn’t until three o’clock. Just think, Mrs. Carleton, I’m giving you some free time, some of my free time, and you can gloat to your heart’s content.”
“I think you’re crazy,” Elizabeth said. Nonetheless, she rose and walked to the phone. “Millicent, please make reservations for two in my name at the Cantina.”
“Mexican food?”
“I love it. Perhaps I can get you to change your mind about signing the agreement if I pump you with their Cadillac margaritas.”
“What the devil is that?”
“A margarita with a shot of Grand Marnier. It’s a killer.”
Elizabeth shook her head at herself. They were talking like friends, she thought blankly. She immediately straightened, resuming her aloofness. “My assistant, Mrs. Stacy, will give you the directions to the restaurant, Mr. Harley. I will meet you there at—”
“I think I’d like to see your headquarters if it’s all right with you, Mrs. Carleton.”
Again she felt nonplussed. She frowned at him. “Very well. Why don’t you return to my office at noon. Meanwhile, I’ll have one of my people come up to show you around.”
“Thank you.”
So far, so good, Jonathan thought. He shook the woman’s hand, and took himself off. He had a difficult time restraining his smile when he came face-to-face with Millicent Stacy, whose face was a study in confusion. So he had truly caught the Carleton woman off guard. Score one small point for him.
As he dutifully followed a young man about the various ACI departments, he paid attention to not a word, his thoughts on his upcoming lunch. Should he treat her like a woman? Compliment her?
The Cantina was decorated in Art Deco, surprisingly enough. Elizabeth loved it. She was safe here.
José immediately rushed forward, assisting her from her raincoat. “So pleased you are here, Mrs. Carleton.”
“This is an out-of-towner, José. Make your Cadillac margaritas extra macho for him.”
“I shall, Mrs. Carleton. This way, please. I have your special table ready for you, of course.”
Of course, Jonathan thought. Hell, he wondered if she owned the place. Her special table was set back from the others, private, away from prying eyes.
Elizabeth ordered a Perrier, and Jonathan felt honor-bound to order the Cadillac margarita. A test of his manhood. He wanted to laugh at himself for being so easily caught in his own conceit.
“A toast, Mrs. Carleton,” he said once the drinks were placed in front of them. He saw her hesitate, and added, “Come, to your victory. To devastate and otherwise wipe out the asshole from Philadelphia.”
“I suppose that’s close enough,” she said, and lightly clinked her glass against his.
His first taste of the margarita was enough to tell him that it should be his only drink for the entire day. It packed a powerful wallop. If only she would go to the women’s room, he could dump it in the plant behind him. Rose always excused herself when they arrived at a restaurant, to repair herself, she said. When Elizabeth Carleton made no move to do anything, he said, his voice light, “You worked very quickly, Mrs. Carleton.”
“Yes, I did. You made me very angry, Mr. Harley. I decided only yesterday that I wouldn’t ruin you.”
“So I’m a lucky man, huh?”
“I should say you could begin to count your blessings. That had, of course, been my initial plan.”
“To ruin me?”
“To destroy you, actually. But I realized that you have done well with your company. You’ve worked very diligently to bring it to the fore of the computer industry. One must admire that sort of commitment and accomplishment. I would only destroy you now if I had no other option.”
“Then I must be certain that you’ve plenty of options.”
“And you must be certain that you control your mouth. I won’t take any more abuse from you, or anyone else for that matter. You see, I no longer have to subject myself to that kind of thing.”
“I think I’ll be able to manage my mouth as well as my other parts,” he said, and took another very small drink of the margarita.
Sexual banter? she wondered, frowning just a bit. Well, if it was, it was her own fault for coming out to lunch with him. It was probably a very stupid move, but he’d taken her aback. And he was right, she did want to gloat, just a bit. Well, perhaps more than a bit.
“I wonder just what it would take to make you go back to hurling insults at me?”
“Is that your style?”
“Lawyer tactics, Mr. Harley? Answering a question with another question?”
“Something you don’t know, Mrs. Carleton? My law degree is from Harvard.”
“You don’t have a law degree, Mr. Harley.”
He grinned at her. “I suppose you even know where my birthmark is?”
Elizabeth didn’t like this at all. He was good, very good. “No,” she said coolly, “but I do know all about your marriage and divorce.”
“Ah, so you’re diving below the belt now.”
“A very nasty business. I would guess that if your father-in-law, or rather your ex-father-in-law, had some control at the First People’s Bank, you would have been tossed out on your ear.”
“Actually you’re wrong there. Andrew Pillson remains a friend.”
He had to be lying, she thought. Pillson, according to her reports, was ready to skin his ex-son-in-law.
He saw the disbelief on her face, and added, “He knows his daughter quite well. He also knows when to put the proper face on things.”
“So it was all her fault? Naturally, I should have guessed. The shallow, spoiled woman?”
“You’re trying to make me toss
my margarita in your face, aren’t you?”
“Just testing, Mr. Harley, just testing. You see, I learn from every encounter I have with businessmen.”
Again that flash of humanity that made him vastly uncomfortable. “You’re young,” he said abruptly.
“Not terribly. I’m twenty-nine now.”
“I venture to say that there are very few chief executives in Fortune Five Hundred companies who are your age.”
“Unless they inherit.”
“Yes,” he said, “unless it’s handed to them free of charge.”
“It wasn’t free of charge, Mr. Harley.”
He said before he could stop himself, “Three years isn’t much to pay for what you’ve gotten in return.”
“I was wondering,” she said slowly, perfectly in control, “how long you would be able to control your rage.”
“Do I look enraged? Ah, here’s our waiter. What do you suggest, Mrs. Carleton?”
Surprisingly, Jonathan, not a Mexican-food lover, found the burritos delicious. He said, smiling, that he wished he could order a dozen macho burritos.
“You’re feeling that insecure?” she said.
“No, I was thinking rather of displaying them, with signs of course, kind of like a peacock strutting his plumage.”
She wanted to smile, at the very least, and nearly choked on her Perrier.
Now, as she picked at her taco salad, she wondered again why she’d come with him. She certainly hadn’t managed to put him in his place very well. He was slippery, a master of his trade.
He said after a moment, “Why do you feel you must have my company, Mrs. Carleton?”
“You weren’t my first choice,” she said, “but there were problems. Yes, I suppose you could call them problems brought about by my naiveté. Then I heard about you, or rather my management team brought you to my attention. I like not only that your location is a lot closer than Silicon Valley, but also the solid strength of your operations.”
“If I hadn’t insulted you, just refused you, may I ask what you would have done?”
“Bought the loan.”
“And if I hadn’t borrowed the money?”
She shrugged. “I would have found another way, I suppose. Power, Mr. Harley, as I’m certain you know quite well firsthand, can be wielded in many different arenas.”
“And I’m just unfortunate enough not to have as much power as you to wield.”
“That’s right.”
“So no one in his right mind dares cross you?”
“Are you admitting that you’re crazy, Mr. Harley? That you acted like a cretin?”
“Touché,” he said. “May I ask you why you decided not to go back to the concert stage? Or do you still plan to in the future?”
He saw her go very still, her fork poised just above her plate. Ah, a nerve, he thought.
“I’m as yet undecided.” She carefully laid the fork beside her plate. “You’re pushing again, Mr. Harley. You’re not stupid, I’ll give you that. You know very well why I couldn’t go back, why I can’t go back for a long time.”
Suddenly, without warning, a flash went off, and the whirring noise of a camera.
Jonathan whipped about in his chair, saw a man grinning at him. “What the hell!” he shouted, rising.
“No,” Elizabeth said, reaching out her hand to touch his arm. “No, don’t. There’s no need to involve yourself. No need at all.”
He eased back into his chair, frowning at her.
Elizabeth called out, “José.”
He was there in an instant. He leaned closer to her, listening. Then he disappeared very quickly.
“What was that all about?”
“The man will leave with his camera, but unfortunately, he will have a regrettable accident with that particular roll of film.”
Jonathan simply stared at her.
“You see,” Elizabeth said, wanting to laugh at his expression, “José and I have an agreement. He promised me protection, complete protection, from prying eyes, and I, well, I reciprocate, naturally.”
“Will José’s goons also break the guy’s legs? Or are they your goons?”
“Don’t turn soft on me now, Mr. Harley. You’re ruining my image of you.”
“Lady, you’re tough as nails, aren’t you?”
“Careful, Mr. Harley. You’re slipping.”
“Yes, I suppose I am,” he said slowly, getting a grip on himself.
“Consider yourself in a poker game, Mr. Harley. Your major problem is that no one will deal you any cards. Well, deuces, perhaps.”
I will get you for that, lady. Oh, yes, you’ve gone too far, much too far.
“So even a three of hearts will beat me?”
“That’s correct. You see, I knew you were somewhat bright.”
“You gloat very well, Mrs. Carleton.”
“I’m learning.”
“I’ve never heard you play the piano,” he said, and she blinked at him in surprise at his abrupt change of topic.
“You aren’t into classical music?”
“Yes, but I’ve just never bought you. Your late husband bought a recording company for you, didn’t he?”
“No, he didn’t. However, he did own one, but it’s country-and-western, primarily. I believe the company is in Nashville. I haven’t had the chance yet to visit with the local management. They’re not a very large concern, and of course everything is a matter of priorities.”
“I should imagine that it would take you at least a year to work with and meet the management of all your companies.”
“Yes, at least a year,” she agreed, smiling just a bit at the mixture of condemnation and bitterness in his voice.
“I don’t suppose I could get you on antitrust?”
“Nope, not a chance. But I’m certain you’ve already explored all avenues open to you, haven’t you, Mr. Harley?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
She nodded. “Of course. You just must realize that I have several people whose primary job it is to do strategic planning. Their experience is awesome. There is nothing—I repeat, nothing—you could devise that they haven’t thought of first.”
He looked as if he would disagree vehemently, but then he shrugged, looking mildly bored.
“You must have been just a bit upset to learn that you couldn’t just simply acquire my company.”
“Yes, just a bit. It meant confronting you personally. I didn’t like that meeting, Mr. Harley.”
“I would say that if you didn’t hate me before that memorable meeting, you certainly must now.”
“Close enough. As I told you, I did calm down, but I didn’t change my mind.”
Jonathan said nothing to that. The lunch hadn’t gone as he’d planned it, but then, he really hadn’t had a specific plan. He’d just assumed that with a woman, he had a chance. For someone who was a musician before she became a business tycoon, she was tough, very tough. He wondered absently if she had murdered Timothy Carleton.
“I was wrong about something,” she said after a moment.
“No.”
“No need for sarcasm. Your secretary. Midge, I believe her name is?”
“That’s right,” he said, and she saw that he’d stiffened just a bit.
“I’m looking for very bright women. Do you believe she’d be interested in a more rewarding position? After we complete our business, of course.”
“Her loyalty is to me. However, feel free to ask her.”
“That’s what impressed me initially. Her loyalty. Do you know what still floors me?”
He cocked his head at her.
“We’re in a brand-new century and women still can’t get into top positions, despite their talents.”
What to say to that? It was true, so he just nodded.
“Now, Mr. Harley, shall we go? I assume you have a plane to catch?”
“Isn’t there a check to pay?”
“Consider, Mr. Harley, that the barracuda is feeding the goldfish,
at least today.”
16
Elizabeth sat alone in her office an hour later, replaying the luncheon with Jonathan Harley in her mind. In Adrian’s words, he did indeed seem a slippery bastard. At one moment she’d believed he was apologizing for his behavior in Philadelphia, but the next, she’d wanted to put her fist in his mouth. He was smart and she knew she must be careful. He was a formidable adversary. She remembered his parting words as he’d helped her into a taxi.
“Why didn’t you want that photographer to take that picture? There wasn’t anything to it, after all.”
She gave him a cool, mocking smile. “Mr. Harley, surely you don’t want to be known as Elizabeth Carleton’s latest?”
“Latest what, Mrs. Carleton? Lover or victim?” And he’d given her a mock salute and stepped back.
Very slippery.
But she had him—oh, yes, she had him.
He wouldn’t go to the Carletons for a bail-out. Not him. She wondered if he would indeed sign the agreement and send it back to her. He’d better, she thought.
“Oh, I’m sure he will,” Adrian said some minutes later. “I hope you didn’t let him get to you again?”
“No. He isn’t all that stupid, Adrian.”
“I still don’t believe you took him to lunch.”
“You wanna know something, sailor? Neither do I.”
“I assume, then, that you reached a sort of détente?”
“In the loosest sense of the word, actually, not even close to a yes. However, he’ll fall into line. He has no choice. If he tries for another loan, even from an out-of-state bank, we’ll know it and take appropriate action.”
“You mean you want him followed?”
“Certainly. Starting today, the minute he steps off the plane in Philadelphia. You know something else? I refuse to feel guilty about this. As you’ve told me and as I’m continually telling myself, this is business, pure and simple business.”
“Yes, it is.” Adrian left her office, made the phone call, and returned. “You ready for the board meeting?”
“Three o’clock already?”
“Does that mean time flew while you were having fun?”
FALSE PRETENSES Page 19
