Bind

by Sierra Cartwright

  Lara printed off a copy of the contract then closed the document. She grabbed a yellow pen to highlight her biggest concerns before putting the packet of papers in her briefcase.

  Afterward, she joined her father for a short meeting in his office to set the priorities for the coming week.

  “Anything new?”

  “No.”

  “Nothing back from Connor Donovan?” she asked eventually.

  “He’ll come back,” Pernell said, linking two paper clips together.

  Her last hope was to convince him to take a great big swallow of pride. “You’re not willing to relent, call him, maybe? I could be part of the meeting. Maybe organize a time for him to talk to the board.”

  “That’s not how business is done, Lara Marie.”

  “What if I set it up?”

  He straightened his spine. “I won’t hear of it.”

  “This could be an excellent opportunity.”

  “It was an insulting offer. He’ll come around. Or another company will. We can start making overtures.”

  Which wouldn’t put them in a position of strength. She was torn. Part of her wanted to confess what she’d done. A larger part was distressed over her father’s continual state of denial. His wire inbox was filled with paper and he was wearing a golf shirt and casual pants, his usual Friday attire. “You’re heading out?”

  He checked his watch. “Meeting some colleagues. We have a tee time just after lunch.”

  “Will you be back this afternoon?”

  “No sense. I’ll be most of the way home by then.”

  “I have a meeting with the VP of Technology at three-thirty.”

  “Good. Bring me a report on Monday.”

  “I’d like you to be there. He says he has some interesting ideas to discuss.”

  “No doubt I’ll be playing the back nine by then. Should have some good weather for it.”

  With a brief nod, she stood. At the doorway, she paused, and looked over her shoulder. “You know, Dad, if you started to work on your exit strategy—”

  “I still have years to think about that.”

  “You could consider a part-time retirement. Have more time to play golf and spend time at the club.”

  “You’ll be CEO soon enough, Lara Marie.”

  “That’s not my point, and you know it. I’m far better as the CFO.”

  “You’ll inherit eventually.”

  “That’s not what this is about,” she said. “I want you around for a long, long time. But we need to be able to make decisions and execute faster. Have the ability to spin off bad divisions.” With an exasperated motion, she tucked strands of hair behind her ears. This wasn’t a new argument. She softened her tone and continued, “We need some new energy. We could consider at least beginning a search for a president. You can remain as CEO. Even chairman of the board.” Intuition warned her that anyone they hired for that position would end up resigning in frustration, unless Pernell was able to release some control.

  “Have that report to me by Monday.”

  Frustration still simmered, but she knew it would be helped by lunch with her mother.

  She went straight from the office to an Italian bistro in a nearby boutique hotel. Service was typically European style with plenty of time to relax. Menu prices were about fifty percent higher than comparable restaurants, but the food was wonderful, and the location was rarely crowded at lunch. It was an excellent place to visit and catch up.

  Helene breezed in five minutes late, looking radiant in a yellow, slim-fitting dress and matching heels. She’d obviously been to the beauty salon. Her dark, shoulder-length hair fell in perfectly trimmed layers, and overhead lights seemed to bounce off the golden highlights. Her nails were manicured and her face glowed. Maybe she’d had both a salon and spa morning.

  “Hello, darling,” Helene said.

  Lara stood, and her mother kissed both of her cheeks.

  “You’re looking well,” Helene said.

  She didn’t, and she knew it. Since she’d run into Connor two nights ago, she hadn’t slept enough, and she knew it had taken a toll. “You look positively radiant, Mother.”

  “Divorce made me what I am today. Happily single.”

  Being away from Pernell agreed with Helene. She’d spent years as his hostess and greatest supporter. In return, she’d been ignored and forgotten on many occasions. When Pernell’s health began to suffer, she’d asked him to cut back on his schedule, eat better, spend time with the family. In response, he’d worked longer hours, scheduled more meetings then canceled their anniversary trip to Australia.

  Helene hadn’t cried or gotten angry. Instead, she’d taken control of her own life. She’d bought a two-bedroom townhome in River Oaks and furnished it with brand-new pieces.

  She’d taken only her personal items, cosmetics, jewelry, favorite clothes and shoes. At first, Pernell hadn’t realized she’d left him. Being served divorce papers on the golf course had been his dose of reality.

  Lara took her chair while a waiter pulled back one for Helene.

  After he’d filled both water glasses and described the specials, he took their drink order.

  “Unsweetened iced tea with a slice of lemon,” Lara said.

  “House chianti for me,” Helene requested.

  The moment he walked away, she said, “Tell me everything. You didn’t call me back last night. It’s your father, isn’t it?”

  Lara settled for a half-truth. “Connor Donovan came to make an offer on the communications division.” Helene knew all the intricacies of the businesses since she still held a seat, not that she attended meetings, but she occasionally read the notes, especially since it impacted her income.

  “The old goat kicked him out?” she guessed. “Without the board ever hearing the information.”

  “Precisely.”

  The waiter returned with drinks and a basket of bread.

  After he’d taken their order, Helene broke off a piece of the loaf and dipped it in some olive oil.

  “Wait a minute. If your father didn’t tell the board…?”

  “I had dinner with Erin Wednesday night, and I went back to the office to tie up a few things. I bumped into Connor as I was getting off the elevator.”

  “When you see her again, give her my regards. Now, back to Connor. He stopped and just happened to tell you he made an offer on the communications division?”

  Her mother’s ability to juggle multiple conversations and ideas was one of things that had made her indispensable to Pernell. Lara wasn’t sure he appreciated that, even now. “He didn’t volunteer it. I asked why he was there.”

  “What did you think of him? He’s a handsome young man, isn’t he? More like his grandfather in temperament. Very serious. Not given to romantic notions.”

  Lara wasn’t so sure of that. Serious, yes. But some of the things he said were charmingly antiquated, bordering on romantic.

  “Did he tell you what the offer was?”

  “No.” Lara toyed with a piece of bread, dipping it in the plate of olive oil, then setting it back down again.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  It wasn’t like her to hedge. Then again, she’d never been in a situation like this. She wasn’t sure where she’d even start to describe her relationship with the complicated man.

  “I imagine you confronted your father,” Helene said. “Wish I could have seen that.”

  “He said the offer was missing some zeros and a comma.”

  “Which you don’t know for sure.”

  “Correct.”

  “And taking it to the board won’t gain you anything. So you might as well treat yourself to a spa day. Nothing is solved by dwelling on it.”

  Lara shook her head. A massage didn’t solve every problem. On the other hand, it might help her to sleep better. “This is our company, your future, as well.”

  “You got nowhere with your father. Which means you need to go to Connor and ask.�
�� Helene was lifting her glass to her mouth when she froze. “You already have, haven’t you? Clever girl.” Helene put her glass back down. “In fact, that’s why you didn’t call me back last night. You were with Connor.”

  “How the hell do you do that?”

  “DNA.”

  “DNA?”

  “You get your brain from me. That’s precisely what I would have done. Besides, you’re generally more forthcoming with information. You went to his home? Had dinner, maybe?”

  When she didn’t answer, Helene went on, “What’s he like in private?”

  She discarded about a dozen adjectives before settling on, “Smart.”

  “You don’t take a company like Donovan Worldwide and make it bigger than it was without being intelligent. Surely you discussed the offer?”

  “No. We didn’t. Honestly. He said it was no longer on the table.”

  “For your father, perhaps. You’ll know how to make it happen, if it’s possible. I don’t suppose the old goat is talking about retiring yet?”

  “If you’re referring to my father, the answer is no.” She didn’t mention the way he continually shut down the discussions about hiring his successor. Like him, the rest of the board likely assumed that she would step into his position, but that side of the business didn’t play to her strong suit. Though she’d become somewhat adept at strategy, vision and leadership, it wasn’t what she really wanted to do. She preferred to figure out how to make it happen.

  Helene squeezed Lara’s hand. “What you’re trying to do is admirable, but sometimes walking away is for the best. You owe BHI nothing. You can start your own business or become CFO for another company. You’ve got mad talent, my girl. Don’t let it be buried.”

  Though she appreciated what her mother was saying, Lara’s sense of duty wouldn’t let her walk away. All the days at BHI with her father, all the studying, years of schooling, all were to one end, helping her father succeed.

  “You can only help people who want to be helped,” Helene added as if reading Lara’s mind.

  Her mother had learned that lesson, Lara knew.

  Lara moved the conversation away from work. “You have your ladies’ soirée today?” She suspected her mother realized it was a defensive tactic, but she didn’t argue.

  “Today we’re having a mixer. We’ll be having men in attendance.”

  “Oh?” The information startled her. “Anyone in particular?”

  “We’re not particular. As long as they’re single and rich. Well, knowing how to dance is nice. Nice, but not necessary.”

  Lara hadn’t ever considered that her mother might eventually want to date again. After leaving Pernell, she’d started traveling with friends, and she’d even taken the desired trip to Australia. “Mom? Is there something you’re not saying?”

  “You’ll be the first to know, darling.” But she looked into the depths of her wine.

  At least Lara was temporarily distracted from her own problems.

  Her mother picked at her salad and skipped dessert, which told Lara plenty. But it also kept Helene from mentioning how little Lara ate.

  Over coffee, Helene said, “You know, Erin’s mother, Angela, might like to join us in future. I should invite her.” She pulled out her phone and recorded a voice message to do just that. “Could be good to have her as a friend.”

  Lara went still. From her mother’s standpoint that made a lot of sense, but she wasn’t sure she liked the idea of the two of them being friends.

  “I’m sure one of the ladies has her number. If not, I’ll have you get it from Erin.”

  Helene picked up the check, then they said their goodbyes.

  By the time Lara arrived back at the office, she only had time to respond to a few emails before grabbing her briefcase and going back to the lobby to meet April.

  The woman was already parked in front of the building, standing on the curb with the back door open.

  There were parts of Connor’s need to control things that she could get accustomed to, maybe even appreciate, Lara realized. “Good afternoon, April.”

  “A pleasure, Ms. Bertrand,” she replied before closing the door.

  After asking to be sure the car’s interior was a comfortable temperature, April eased into traffic.

  It took little more than five minutes to reach the building that housed Donovan Worldwide.

  April said she was at Lara’s disposal. After thanking her, Lara went inside the building.

  No matter how calm she pretended to be, nerves swarmed Lara as she rode the elevator. As she waited for it to stop and the doors to open, an odd feeling settled over her. She’d made this trip twice in two days. As Connor’s wife, his sub, it might not be that unusual. The idea of calling him husband seemed intimate, frightening, exhilarating, all in one.

  Again with confidence she didn’t feel, she exited the elevator then walked toward Connor’s office. Unlike yesterday, Thompson stood to greet her when she arrived in the reception area.

  “The biscotti was a nasty lie, something just to entice me, wasn’t it?” she asked him.

  “Not at all. I baked it last night.”

  “You…” She opened her mouth, stunned. This big, burly former military man brewed the best coffee on the planet, and he baked? But instead of finishing her sentence, she said, “Impressive.”

  “I have many talents, Ms. Bertrand.”

  “As I’m learning. But aren’t they complicated to make?”

  “Time consuming,” he replied. “Helped that I had all the ingredients on hand.”

  She was moved in a way she rarely was. That he’d gone out of his way for her, that he assumed—or knew—she’d be back, that he was giving his tacit approval to her, touched her. “I’m not quite sure how to thank you.”

  “By eating them,” he said with a big grin.

  “I shall. Ah… Is Mr. Donovan available?”

  “He is. Said to send you right in.”

  The anxiousness that had settled somewhat suddenly took flight. Yesterday, Thompson had walked with her. Today, it was as if she were a regular guest.

  “Decaf or regular?” Thompson asked.

  “Decaf, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “No trouble at all.”

  She pulled back her shoulders and knocked before entering Connor’s office.

  The sight of him all but stopped time.

  He was back in professional dress, wearing a charcoal suit that was so dark it was nearly black. His white shirt was starched, and his tie was a contrasting silver. His eyes were a shade lighter than his suit, and his smile was as broad as it was welcoming. How could she resist him?

  It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t alone.

  Connor stood, and so did his guest. Even if she hadn’t seen a picture of Nathan, she would have recognized him.

  “Lara,” Connor said, coming around his desk. “Welcome.”

  She hadn’t been sure of her reception, but he took her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. Stress and anxiety faded as she leaned into him. How did he manage to simultaneously make things so difficult and yet so easy for her?

  “People will believe this is real if you keep that up,” Nathan said.

  Connor stepped back. With a slight frown, he said, “Lara, I apologize for this ill-mannered lout. My younger brother, Nathan.”

  Nathan’s grin was relaxed, making it impossible to take offense at his words.

  “I kicked him out five minutes ago, but he’s used every stall tactic available so that he could drag out the meeting long enough to run into you.”

  Unapologetically, he shrugged. “Erin speaks highly of you, and so does Connor. I had to meet you.” He extended his hand.

  She put down the bag and took it—his grip was strong, but not overly so…welcoming.

  Conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Thompson.

  He put down the tray on the small table. After pouring a cup for Lara, he carried it and a biscotti to her.
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br />   “No cream and sugar?” Nathan asked.

  “The lady is tough,” Thompson replied.

  Nathan and Connor exchanged shrugs.

  “Cup for you, Mr. Nathan? I did bring cream.”

  “My brother was just leaving,” Connor said.

  “Can I have one of those cookies?” Nathan asked.

  “It’s a biscotti,” Thompson corrected. “Chocolate chip or almond?”

  “Both.”

  Connor sighed and took his seat behind the desk. Nathan sat back. Enjoying the exchange, Lara hid her grin behind the cup. It appeared that Nathan was just as stubborn as his brother, and she liked that.

  “Are you still jittery from earlier, sir?” Thompson asked as he gave Nathan a cup, saucer and a small pile of biscuits.

  “I’m switching to Scotch,” Connor said. “And that doesn’t go with cookies.”

  His annoyance was charming, showing her the dynamic with his family and employee. He might be a bit sarcastic, but he wasn’t short or unkind.

  Lara dunked her biscotti in the coffee and savored the bite. “I was serious yesterday. If you’re ever looking for a new job, please call me. Name your price.”

  “Thompson, contact Erin. In fact, bring the lawyers in. I need to amend your employment contract. I want the option to match any other offer you receive.”

  Thompson grinned before leaving, closing the door behind him.

  “And as for you, future wife, we can change our agreement, as well. There shall be no stealing my employees.”

  “What’s yours is ours, I thought?” she replied cheekily.

  “You’re fortunate we have company.”

  “Oh, go ahead,” Nathan encouraged. “I’ll enjoy the show.”

  “Why are you still here?” Connor asked. “Other than eating my cookies and drinking my coffee?”

  Unapologetically, Nathan took a bite from his second biscotti.

  “When you arrived, Nathan was reminding me that we have a family get-together on Sunday morning for my mother’s birthday. We think it’s a good idea for you to accompany me.”

  She put down her cup and saucer and glanced between the brothers. As much as she might have preferred to keep the discussion between them, she realized there were very real strategic considerations. No matter how much she’d thought she’d prepared for this, she couldn’t have thought through everything. “We have some details we need to work through,” she replied, making no promises.