Honorable Intentions

by Pauline Saull

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  Published by The Hartwood Publishing Group, LLC,

  Hartwood Publishing, Phoenix, Arizona

  www.hartwoodpublishing.com

  Honorable Intentions

  Copyright © 2017 by Pauline Saull

  Digital Release: February 2017

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Honorable Intentions by Pauline Saull

  When Suzy Porter’s father sells his business, she is horrified to learn that the new owner is Jake Mason, womanizer and property magnate. If Suzy wants to keep up mortgage payments on her beloved cottage, she’ll have to work for him. On meeting him, all her preconceived ideas fly out the window. He’s charming, enigmatic, and very sexy. Sparks quickly fly between them as they work side by side, and inevitably romance blossoms. But Jake has a past. When Suzy learns of it, can her feelings for him survive?

  Chapter One

  “Oh, Dad! Are you really serious? I mean this has come so completely out of the blue.” Suzy shook her head and glanced across at her mother, busy collecting their dinner plates, her usually cheerful face tight with anxiety.

  But Tom Porter shook his head ruefully, pushing his glass of wine away. “I’m sorry, love. I know it’s happened very quickly, but I think deep down you must have been expecting it. I can only keep going until the end of the month. Mum and I have dreaded telling you, we know how you’re fixed financially with the mortgage on the cottage and will do all we can to help…”

  Suzy pushed her hair back. “No Dad, honestly, I can’t expect you two to bail me out. I’m a big girl and have to stand on my own two feet. You and mum have yourselves to think about now.” She sighed, seeing her mum’s sad face. “Well, I knew we were not doing the same amount of business as in previous years, but I hoped we could keep going…I mean…for goodness sake, Dad, Porterhouse has been in the town for over fifty years. We’re an institution.”

  Tom sighed. “Maybe that’s the trouble. For a lot of people institution brings to mind out of date, fuddy-duddy…old-fashioned. These days estate agencies are cutting edge, on top of things. I’m afraid I’ve allowed myself to be left behind.”

  “Dad, you have not. This company is still very well thought of. And does it really matter if we no longer have the lion’s share of the market?” Suzy knew that in a way she was clutching at straws, but couldn’t stop asking. “Can’t we somehow carry on as we are for a little longer; just give the market a chance to pick up a little?”

  Her father shook his head and gave another heavy sigh. “I suppose that if push came to shove we could soldier on for a few more months, but it would be such a struggle, love. The rates, the general upkeep of the building, and trying to make a living out of it for you, me and mum…well, it’s been getting harder and harder until we’re at the point where it’s nigh impossible.”

  Suzy bit her lip, thinking of her dear little cottage close to the south English coast which she loved so much. She had bought when times were good, but now she was in grave danger of losing it. A month earlier, having sold her Suzuki in exchange for a clapped-out fifteen-year-old Renault, she’d been able to so far keep up with the mortgage payment from the proceeds, but without another commission, next month’s would be impossible to meet.

  Her mother turned from the workbench with a tray holding coffee and a set of cups and saucers. Suzy looked up sharply.

  “Where’s Grannie’s silver service?” she asked. “You always use it.”

  Her mother sat down heavily. “Gone. Along with those old Wedgewood vases and the French clock. Needs must, Suzy.”

  Suzy slumped back in her chair. My God, she thought, has my head been totally in the sand?

  “We are,” her dad said, “hoping to sell this house and have a look at buying somewhere in Spain instead. Devon’s prices are high at the moment, we may as well take advantage of the boom. With our pensions and what we get from this we should be able to manage, but we are so worried about you, darling. What will you do?”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, Dad. I’ll be fine.” She saw her parents exchange glances and knew what they were thinking.

  She would not.

  Simply because she wasn’t trained to do anything else. The estate agency had been in her blood since she’d left school and with no other notches in her belt, what could she hope for in the way of employment?

  “I’m keeping Justin on until the end of the month,” her dad said. “His wife’s expecting anytime now. We have to do our best by him. Mum’s car goes tomorrow, that will help out.”

  Suzy felt useless frustrated tears well in her eyes.

  “Mum, Dad,” she said. “I am so sorry this had happened, but honestly, do what you have to do. We’ll cope. We always have, haven’t we?”

  “Tell her the rest, Tom,” her mum said.

  »»•««

  The coffee had gone cold and still they sat around the table.

  “But I don’t understand, Dad. Why do we have to become involved with him of all people? Jake Mason for goodness sake.”

  Tom frowned. “Why do you sound so derisive? Have you ever met him?”

  “There’s no need to. I’ve heard enough. He’s a hard-headed, cutthroat business man with only one interest…making money. I won’t be able to work with someone like that.”

  “Suzy, try to be a little open-minded about this. Nothing’s written in stone yet, but as I see it we have absolutely no choice other than to accept Jake Mason’s offer. It’s an absolute lifeline, a Godsend for me and your mum. And by doing so it means I get a generous stipend for the four years until my retirement and your job will be secure. He assured me that you will be made manager of this branch…on a salary, instead of relying on commissions. How wonderful will that be, love? You have got, Suzy,” he added, “to give Jake Mason a chance. Whatever you may have heard about him, he can’t be all bad. What’s that old saying about an apple never falling far from the tree? Well, I may not have kept close contact with his dad over the years but we do go back a long way, and I’ve always regarded him as a good man.”

  “Is that how Jake Mason found out about the trouble we’re in?”

  “Yes. I met Bertie Mason at the Institute meeting in February. He knows the financial situation of most agencies, and it only took a gentle inquiry from him for me to spill the beans. That was when he told me about Jake’s success. Apparently he went to Saudi Arabia in his twenties, stayed for ten years and came back a rich man. He put all his funds into Bertie’s estate agency and then built up the land development side of the business. He’s done exceptionally well with it. And while Bertie was entirely sympathetic to our plight, he said that due to Jake’s enthusiasm their business is going from strength to strength. It’s just the way it is, love.”

  “I wish I’d known from the beginning…when we started sliding in earnest,” Suzy said. “You should have told me earlier, Dad.”

  T
om shrugged resignedly. “What difference could it possibly have made? You couldn’t have worked any harder than you do to get listings. You barely have a life, Suzy, with the hours you put in. And anyway your mum and I had a decision to make, and quickly. Jake could have bid for Homes to Go instead of Porterhouse, and where would that have left us? It had to be done, love…with or without your knowledge.”

  Suzy gazed out of the window onto the small garden, her hazel eyes stinging with unshed tears. To think that her father had come to this, selling out to Jake Mason, reputedly the most ruthless businessman in the county. It was said that what he didn’t own wasn’t worth having. Suzy had also overheard it said by a past customer of hers that he’d built his own house on top of the highest hill in the area in a bid to keep an eye on all his acquisitions.

  What sort of a moron does that, for goodness sake?

  “Suzy?”

  She turned back to look at her parents and her heart lurched. She felt the guilt of her own selfishness. This might be hard for her, but it was a hell of a lot harder for them. She smiled.

  “I’ve listened to what you’ve said, Dad, and I will give the man the benefit of the doubt. I suppose that if I was to be callous also, I could use the change to my advantage. Work, take the wage, and when I’ve saved enough money, pack it in and move on.”

  Her father smiled. “If that’s what you wish, but somehow I don’t think you’ll feel like that once everything is settled. You love this business too much.”

  “You’re right, I do. After all, I’ve been brought up in it, haven’t I? I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing. Okay,” Suzy said ruefully. “Now I know the worst…what happens next?”

  »»•««

  In the smart modern offices of Mason and Son situated on the top floor of an old but now renovated shoe warehouse, Jake paced the wide oak floorboards, raking his thick black hair and feeling extremely agitated. What had made him agree, and act on, that absurd suggestion from his pop? It was true, he had wanted Porterhouse for a long time, in fact ever since he’d known about the difficulties the company was in he’d speculated about making a bid. An Elizabethan building in a prime spot in the High Street was always going to be a good investment. But for crying out loud, going along with his dad’s wish to keep the daughter on as manager? He must be losing it.

  Suzy Porter.

  Although he had never met her he could just imagine what she’d be like. The boss’ only child. Spoiled, loud…no doubt the horsey type, and even though she was in an ailing business, probably full of herself. He’d met the type many times before in his professional life and hadn’t the patience to give them the time of day.

  On the other hand, he must remember that Tom Porter had been a good friend to his father when they’d both first set out in business nearly thirty years ago, and Pop wanted him to bear that in mind when dealing with his old friend.

  “I know you’ll do a fair deal with Tom Porter, son,” Bertie had said.

  Jake stared out of the large picture window and sighed heavily. He just hoped he could get on with this woman long enough to show his father that he had at least tried, then, well, if it didn’t work out she’d have to go. Jake checked the date. Four days to the meeting at Porterhouse. He really was not looking forward to it one little bit. Digging his hands into his jeans pockets he wondered, not for the first time, what Suzy Porter would make of him. No doubt, like everyone else who didn’t know him from a bar of soap―one of his father’s favorite euphemisms―she would have the usual preconceived ideas. Sometimes that really got to him. People who envied success in any manner or form had very little interest in how that success was actually achieved. And it hadn’t always been easy getting where he was.

  Having built Mason into a multi-million pound business, Jake was well aware that by many he was regarded as perceptive and hard-working, but by the majority―and especially those who had never met him― that he was merely arrogant and lucky, falling in muck and coming up smelling of roses. He’d heard it said about him many times. But words of that nature failed to worry him. He’d worked hard and long to get where he was and prided himself on the fact that he had hurt no-one on the way. He was lucky, he supposed, in that he had always had a sharp analytical mind along with an astute eye, which while not being particularly special qualities, had been a definite help. And he wasn’t like many of the successful men he’d met over the years who would ride roughshod over their own grandmother if she was in the way of a good deal. However, he still seemed to have gained a reputation which he would, in all truth, rather do without.

  Recently there had been an article in the Property Periodical about him where, while not actually using the word “ruthless,” the writer of the piece had hinted that his steely determination to get what he wanted put him in a league of his own. He hadn’t been particularly pleased by it and had contacted the magazine who put him in touch with the writer, a certain Amanda Roll. Jake suggested they meet for lunch as he would like to put his side of the story to her. Apparently intrigued, she had obliged. He checked his watch. Lunch with her was arranged for noon.

  »»•««

  They met in a small bistro with a reputation for excellent Italian food. Initially Jake had been wary, tight-lipped, but as he relaxed he warmed, finding her attractive, pleasant, easy to talk to, and more than willing to listen.

  “You know something?” Amanda said with a smile. “Having finally met you, I have to say I’m impressed.”

  “Oh?” Jake raised an eyebrow, took a sip of his wine.

  “Yes. You’re not at all what I expected. You come across as an honest man…and please don’t take that the wrong way, what I mean is, you’re quite prepared to talk about the highs as well as the lows of your success. You’ve achieved a lot in such a relatively short time, haven’t you?”

  Jake smiled ruefully. “Mm. Well, that would sound like I’d be blowing my own trumpet, I think. Dessert?”

  Amanda shook her head and smiled coyly. “No, thank you. Er…since your call I’ve done a little more research on you.”

  “Really?” Jake felt a slight tightening of tension in his jaw. “Did you find any interesting skeletons hiding in my cupboard?” His mind flittered to the events in Saudi in those last few months he’d spent there…

  She laughed. “No. But I did discover that you are committed to providing excellent quality new-build homes at an affordable price. That, in this day and age, I find admirable.”

  “Thank you. It’s something I enjoy doing very much.”

  “And,” she said as she stirred her coffee, “I heard a whisper…”

  “Oh?”

  “Mm. Porterhouse. Rumor has it it’s against the wall and a certain person is interested.”

  Jake checked his watch. “Sorry, I never discuss what I term private business.”

  Amanda smiled. “Okay. You must have another appointment I expect, so I’ll let you get off. Thank you for an excellent lunch, Jake.”

  Jake drove back to the office thoughtfully. She had surprised him. Reporters, he knew from experience, could sometimes be hard-headed, but Amanda had an edge of softness to her which he liked. Nevertheless, as he turned into the office parking lot, he immediately forgot about her.

  »»•««

  The following morning on entering his office, Polly, his secretary, rang through to say there was a call from Amanda Roll.

  Jake smiled. “Put her on, Polly,” he said. “Hello, Amanda.”

  “Jake. How are you?”

  “Good. A busy day ahead, but I thrive on that. And you?”

  “I’m very well, thanks, and um… Did you get my message last night?”

  “The cell? I’m hopeless, hardly ever check, it’s always getting me into trouble with my secretary, so no sorry, I didn’t. They usually get diverted through the office, clearly I’ve missed yours, which I apologize for.” He sat at his desk, swiveled the chair to look out over the river, and waited for what was to come.

 
; “Ah. Okay, well what I said was that I thought our meeting yesterday ended far too quickly. I enjoyed my time with you very much and by way of an apology for my wrong assumption of you, I was calling to ask could I please buy you lunch sometime? I do so want to make amends for that article.”

  “Really, Amanda, there’s no need. It’s forgotten.”

  “Not by me it’s not. Look, how about…well, there’s a fantastic seafood restaurant opened along the river at Whitebeck. Do you like it?”

  “Seafood? Yeah, I do actually.”

  “Well then,” Amanda said. “Name your time and day.”

  Jake put the phone down thoughtfully. Miss Roll, he decided, was a very determined young woman. What she wanted, she’d go all out to get. Still, he would meet her for lunch again. No harm in that. She was enjoyable company, and although he had no intention of taking the budding friendship any further, he hadn’t had a decent seafood meal for some time.

  »»•««

  On the day leaving the office to meet her at Whitebeck, Jake reminded Polly to arrange for a bouquet of flowers to be delivered to Miss Suzy Porter, along with the bottle of champagne for Thursday’s meeting at the Porterhouse office.

  “It’s done already. You told me last week. For goodness sake, stop worrying, Jake,” Polly admonished gently. “I’ve never seen you like this over anything before. Miss Porter must be something of a dragon to get you so uptight.”

  Jake smiled. “I’ve never met her, but I have one of those gut feelings…Anyway, if there are any calls I’m out for lunch. Won’t be long, see you in an hour.”

  Driving through town, Jake thought of Polly’s words. She had, he thought, hit the nail precisely on the head.

  Dragon? He felt a prickling along the back of his neck. Suddenly the idea of flowers and champagne seemed to him like a form of bribery, sort of, there you go, those are for you and I’ll take what’s left of the family business, thank you very much.

  He indicated to turn off toward the river, chiding himself for being so ridiculous. It was, after all, a simple takeover, handled fairly, like plenty of others he’d done in the past. The fact that the boss’ daughter would still be involved shouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference.