Persuading Her: A Modern Persuasion Retelling (Pemberley Estates Book 2)

by Keena Richins

  "Ah, say no more!" Al said. "Working with people are the bane of one's existence."

  "Al, you're married to a person."

  "True, but I get to CHOOSE who to be stuck with in marriage. Not so at work."

  "All right, you have a point."

  "But," Al continued, "there is one good point about annoying co-workers."

  "Really?" Rick asked.

  "Yep. They make for some good gossip!"

  "Al!" Sophy cried, laughing herself. Rick tried to join in, but all he really wanted was to withdraw. Or punch something. He was not looking forward to meeting Mr. Elliot one bit.

  Chapter 19

  Once in Boston, Rick headed for the hospital. He had purposefully arrived a few hours before the meeting with the stuffy Elliot in order to visit Louisa since he knew the Musgroves would expect a visit. He might have postponed the visit for after the meeting, but the possibility of seeing Anne propelled the visit to the top of his to-do list.

  Unfortunately, Anne wasn't in the waiting room. Neither were any of the Musgroves. Hoping they were all with Louisa in the ICU, he asked a nurse if he could visit, only to discover that those directly related to Louisa were allowed in and he didn't qualify. Undefeated, he called Charles.

  "Rick! I'm so glad you called! I--Walter, quiet, I'm on the phone--"

  "You have your kids with you?" Rick asked, the wail of a child obvious in the background. Last he knew, they were with Anne. But if they were here, then Anne must be with them. Maybe even overhearing this call.

  "Yeah, Anne brought them up yesterday." The wail diminished. Charles must have moved to a different room.

  "She staying with you, then?"

  "No, she lives with her father here in Boston."

  Rick's heart sank. Not only did he have to work with the father, but he'd have to extract Anne out from under his nose again?

  "Why she still living with him?" Realizing that sounded too curt, he added, "I had assumed a girl her age would have her own place."

  "Ha, that's probably true for most girls, but Anne's a homebody, needing someone to take care of. I think she tried living by herself once but hated it. So, she works for her father. He had cancer a while back and Anne's pretty much the reason he survived. She kept him going when we all thought he should give up. When she puts her mind to something, Anne can have some surprising nerves of steel."

  "She can?" He had never seen this side of Anne.

  "Yeah, like how she takes care of my kids. She doesn't let them walk over her. I have no idea how she does it. Oh, and remember how she handled the whole accident with Louisa?"

  Rick murmured in agreement, his mind zooming to a further past, to when she had rejected him. He had considered her weak and subpar, but looking back, he couldn't deny how well she kept to her decision despite all his pleadings, arguments, and yelling. Nor did she once break down into tears, but remained calm and steadfast in the face of his bewildered rage. And it was that maddening calmness that had broke him, convincing him she had never cared for him. But maybe that was Anne's way of handling a crisis.

  Now that he thought of it, she had remained irrationally calm eight years ago when he saw her interact with her stuffy father and dominating older sister. And throughout the week with the Musgroves, she'd handled her whiny sister and HIM with that same calmness.

  If, in fact, calmness was how she handled stressful situations, then perhaps he'd been completely wrong about her feelings for him. Those precious feelings may still be alive, hidden by that deceptive calm surface.

  "Will, uh," Rick hesitated, not sure he wanted to ask the question since it might reveal too much. But he wanted the answer too badly, so he continued, "Does Anne come to the hospital a lot?"

  "I haven't seen her yet, but she just got to Boston today and her father can keep her pretty busy but I know she'll find a way to come and visit one of these days."

  Rick frowned, not pleased with the news. How was he supposed to see her if he had no idea about her schedule? He should just call her. That would be easier. But what would he say? What excuse would he use to randomly call her up? And what excuse would he give Charles for demanding for her number in the first place?

  A scream erupted in the background of the phone call, followed by Mary's yelling voice.

  "Uh, sorry, Rick, but I need to run. My kids--"

  "No, I understand. I'll see you at the hospital tomorrow or so."

  "Should I text when I'm there?"

  He'd prefer Charles to text when Anne was there, but all Rick said was, "Yeah, that would be great. Thanks."

  * * *

  To avoid drumming his fingers on the cloth-covered table, Rick sipped his nearly empty drink. After another minute, he checked his phone. Mr. Elliot was officially ten minutes late and not a text or email to explain why. Rick should have known the stuffy man would disrespect him by being late, probably trying to rub it in of how unimportant he thought of Rick.

  Rick caught himself drumming his fingers so he sipped his drink again. At this rate, he'd need a refill before the waitress took his order.

  "Mr. Wentworth?"

  Rick turned with a growl, but it disappeared as he stared at the man before him. It was the same mysterious handsome man who had admired Anne in Lyme!

  "Yes, that's me. And you are?"

  The annoyingly handsome man extended his hand. "William Elliot."

  Rick stared. HE was Mr. Elliot?

  "Please excuse my lateness," the man continued. "Another meeting ran late."

  Rick accepted the handshake, a dozen questions on his mind. Did he know Anne? Were they related? He hoped the relation was very close, like a first cousin or a brother-in-law. Anne did have an older sister, didn't she? This could be her husband. But wait, he wouldn't be named Elliot, now would he?

  "That's fine," Rick said, pushing his questions away. This was a business meeting, not an interrogation about a girl. "Please, take a seat."

  "Thank you, and thank you for taking the time to come out here, but like I assured Mr. Bingley, there was no need for your involvement. I have this all taken care of."

  Rick forced a smile. The man may not be Anne's father, but he certainly had similar qualities: pretentious and arrogant. "I have a personal interest in the case."

  "Yes, you were the one that recruited the inventor; a very good find. I admire your talent in acquisitions, but lobbying senators requires a very different skill set"

  Resentment flared within him. The man was judging him incompetent on the spot. "I'm a fast learner. And I imagine it's not as different as you claim. I'll be dealing with a person whose interests might align with ours if I can make a compelling case."

  "But as the acquisitions manager, you have the power in the budding relationship. In this case, the senator has all the power and if you fail, your company and that inventor will lose a lot of money."

  "But I don't fail," Rick countered and leaned forward, wishing he could tower over the annoying man. Too bad the man was about his height. "Mr. Bingley knows I get the job done, a fact he apparently didn't see in you."

  The man's smile widened as if amused by Rick's jab. "Obviously, he doesn't know me well yet. I've only begun to work for your company a few months ago, though, so in another year, this problem will never be repeated."

  Rick raised an eyebrow. A few months and yet he was already assigned to this important case? He was moving up the ladder fast--which made Rick despise him further. The man was not only arrogant, but he was also smooth. Too smooth. Like a slithering snake sliding up toward a victim's ankle. Rick wanted to defy, to somehow wipe that smirk off the man's face. But he was a co-worker and may spin the events in a negative light for Rick.

  Attempting to be as smooth as the snaky Elliot, Rick forced a smile. "Then you'll appreciate my comments to Bingley on the job well done once we're finished with this case."

  "Oh, I'm sure I will. I'll have this taken care of in less than a month. Then you can go back to your little job of finding inventors
and I'll carry on with running this area."

  Rick stilled, realization dawning. The man wanted the management spot in the Boston office. That was why he was trying to get Rick out of the picture. Suddenly, Rick was determined to get it. It didn't matter if he wanted it; he wanted to prove he was better than Elliot.

  "I doubt I'll be leaving so soon afterwards," Rick said, leaning back in his chair as nonchalantly as possible. "Bingley has plans for me in this area."

  Elliot leaned back as well. "Plans go awry all the time."

  "Like your plan to finish this in a month?"

  "You believe you could wrap it up sooner?"

  "I'm not a man who dawdles." Rick sat up. "When's the meeting with the senator?"

  "Tomorrow, same time as now, at this same restaurant."

  Rick stood up. "Thanks for your time, then."

  "You're not ordering?"

  If Rick stayed to eat in this guy's presence, he doubted the meal would end in a friendly manner. "I have another meeting and unlike others, I prefer to not be late. See you tomorrow." He headed out before Elliot could object, then called his boss to update him on the matter. Alas, Bingley was busy so he was directed to his sister instead.

  "Are you sure you heard correctly about the time?" her cold voice asked. "Mr. Elliot assured us it would be an hour earlier."

  Rick was glad he sat in his car instead of standing in the street. Otherwise, his look of rage may have scared random passersby. He should have known Elliot would have given him the wrong time and make him look like a fool. Not that Miss Bingley thought much of him. She probably considered lawyers higher up on the importance ladder than him in the first place.

  Forcing his tone to remain light, he said, "I'll make sure to arrive an hour earlier just in case."

  "Please do. We don't need to upset the senator with tardiness."

  "Of course. Thank you, Miss Bingley."

  To ensure nothing went wrong, Rick arrived a half an hour before the time Miss Bingley claimed and sat in a coffee shop that overlooked the restaurant's entrance. On the hour, he spotted the annoying William Elliot making his way inside so Rick abandoned his post and followed.

  "Mr. Elliot," Rick said as he was led to the table where the man sat. Though Elliot's face registered no surprise, his eyes seemed to flash as if furious. Rick couldn't help grinning.

  "Mr. Wentworth. You're early." The man didn't bother to stand. Neither did he accept Rick's offered handshake.

  Undeterred, Rick sat down. "I like being early. I see no prior meeting has interfered with this one."

  Elliot smiled. It seemed to only freeze his cold eyes. "I'm never late for important meetings."

  Rick struggled to keep his smile from dissolving into a glare. "I'll make sure I put that in my comments to Mr. Bingley."

  The two continued to smile politely at one another until the senator showed up. Rick immediately rose to his feet to greet the lady. Cold, disinterest eyes fell on him, reminding him of Miss Bingley if she was seventy and half the height.

  "Will," she said to Elliot and the man shot Rick a triumphant smile, apparently proud to be on first-name basis with the senator. "Glad to see you again. And Mr. Wentworth," she extended her hand. "A pleasure, I'm sure."

  "Thank you for making the time to meet with us," Rick said, shaking her hand.

  They sat down and Rick endured polite talk until after the food orders have been placed. However, before he could launch into a speech, Elliot seized control of the conversation, lavishing praises on the senator's recent voting record. Rick tried to edge in a word, but Elliot overrode him and the senator, apparently assuming Elliot was in charge and Rick was just some lowly secretary, kept her attention on Elliot, especially when he offered to throw a fundraiser in her honor, promising to raise lots of money to ensure she could continue with her very important work on other matters that Rick was unfamiliar with. Soon the senator finished eating and announced she had to leave. She thanked Elliot profusely, barely gave a nod to Rick, and then departed before Rick had said more than ten words to her.

  "And that," Elliot said, turning to him with a triumphant smile, "is how it's done."

  Rick took a deep breath, trying to calm the rage boiling inside and not end up punching the guy. "Bribing," Rick said through half-clenched teeth. "That's how bribing is done."

  Elliot waved his hand as if bored. "I didn't give her any money."

  "That's the sole reason you're doing the fundraiser. Raise a lot of money and she'll be more inclined to listen to our cause."

  "That's how this business works."

  "No, that's how YOUR business works. But the Pemberley Estates Corporation runs differently."

  Elliot rolled his eyes. "You're being naive. Why don't you go back to your little inventors and pretend the world runs on ideals, hmm? Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a fundraiser to launch."

  Rick let the annoying man depart and glared at his half-eaten plate. He knew politics was usually a big scam, people lying through their teeth, promising great thing while never doing anything until money was exchanged under the table, but if this was truly the way things worked, then the lobbyists before him should have already tried this maneuver. Maybe even several times. The only reason Bingley would have come to Rick was because they had run out of bribery tactics.

  Then again, maybe Bingley had assigned both Elliot and Rick to see which of their tactics would work better. Bingley might have hoped Elliot's smooth skills to lead his prey to where he wanted them would work better than the corporation's lobbyists.

  Yet, Rick didn't like the idea of that snake being in charge of the Boston office. Elliot didn't seem like the type of person who cared about the well-being of others. No, he only cared if it helped with his goals. Otherwise, he'd probably squish the rest in his ambitious climb to the top. And that would include Robert Smith and the other inventors that Rick had found, good people who wanted to change the world and make it a great place, and were expecting--because of Rick--to be in a corporation that cared. Elliot would destroy that notion in seconds.

  Rick drummed his fingers on the tablecloth as the waiter cleared the table. He needed a way to circumvent Elliot, a way to meet with the senator without that snake around.

  Rick paused, a memory stirring. During all of Elliot's lavish praises, the senator had mentioned a gala she would be attending tomorrow night. Rick had recognized the name, a Mr. Bertram, a member of the US House of Representatives. He had met the man once when he had done a showy visit of the base Rick had been stationed at. It was possible he could meet the senator there and renegotiate another meeting.

  Seizing on the idea, he made several calls. The price for a ticket to the gala was astoundingly overpriced, but thankfully, he had plenty of savings. Growing up poor and knowing the power of money had induced him to save every penny. Besides, he had nothing he desired to buy. His work reimbursed all his travel expenses and his lack of a permanent home and the need to travel lightly made collecting things useless. The only time he enjoyed spending was when he could make others smile, but his best friends and sister were all well off. That left him with a large pile of savings to use like right now, when he could save Robert Martin and other inventors from having to deal with the snake-like Elliot.

  Energized, Rick also bought a new suit--and couldn't help wondering what Anne would think of it. He made the effort to visit the hospital twice before the gala, but Anne never showed up. The Musgroves, however, were very attentive and seemed overly pleased by his visits and Rick inwardly groaned, realizing their belief in his adoration of their daughter was being reinforced. How were they going to take the news that it was really Anne he craved and not their coma-induced daughter? Especially since it seemed Louisa may never wake up again?

  Though desperately wanting to press Charles for Anne's number, he didn't have the heart to be so insensitive to the family's pain. Besides, James was always at the hospital and didn't seem to even remember Anne existed. He was completely focused on helping
Louisa and her family cope. So, there was no rush to get Anne's number. He should wait until Louisa's fate was decided.

  Chapter 20

  Rick fidgeted with his suit as he swept his eyes over the crowded gala, trying to find the senator again. He'd spotted her a few times, but she was always surrounded by overly-important-looking people that he had hesitated barging through. Worse, he'd caught sight of not one, but two overly-familiar haughty faces: William Elliot and Anne's father. The latter had lost a weight in the past eight years and no longer seemed to tower over everyone, but he still had that sneering eye as if never finding anything worth his attention. Well, save William Elliot and the senator. The three chatted like the best of friends, a circle Rick was loathe to join. He already had issues with William; he didn't need to add his insecurity and hatred of the father to the mix.

  When Rick first spotted the father, he had immediately checked for Anne, hoping she might have attended as well. But her sweet face wasn't found anywhere near her father. Rick wasn't surprised. She had never fared well in large gatherings, preferring to remain by herself. Or with Rick.

  If only that was still true today.

  Rick caught sight of the senator, once again surrounded by important people, but none included the snooty Elliots. It was time to make his move. Putting on his best stuffy-arrogant facade, he crossed through the crowd and politely demanded an audience.

  The senator eyed him as if estimating his worth. "Oh, you're the one guy with Elliot."

  That wasn't how Rick wanted to be remembered, but he kept his opinion to himself and nodded. "I believe Elliot misrepresented us. If I could have another meeting with you--"

  "I've given your company several meetings by now. I don't see why another one would make a difference."

  "It will. I assure you. A half an hour of your time would suffice."

  She produced a cold smile. "My secretary will get back to you on whether I have the time."