Taming the Takeover Tycoon

by Robyn Grady

  “Mr. Reed, wait...did you say engagement? You and Becca Stevens are engaged to be married? Does Angelica Lassiter know? Are you backing out of a takeover bid of Lassiter Media?”

  The door slammed shut. The reporter’s microphone hit the glass. Tires squealed as the cab pulled out.

  “Where to?” the driver asked in an Eastern European accent.

  “Beverly Hills.”

  Looking in the rearview mirror, the cabbie reached for a candy dispenser on the dash. He shook a mint into his mouth and sucked for a moment. “You are Jack Reed and the lady from the Lassiter charity, yes? I see pictures of you on TV.”

  Becca wanted to smack her forehead. Seemed everyone had seen those photos except them.

  “No worries, Mr. Reed,” the cabbie said with a lopsided grin. “I will lose those leeches. My mother-in-law, she worked for a big-time newspaper. She’s still Mrs. Snoopidy Snoops.” He sneered. “Always on my case, sticking in her nose where it might get cut off.”

  The cab swerved off the main drag down a side street.

  “We get back on the highway a few miles down.” The cabbie looked back at them over a shoulder. “Feel free to talk. What happens in cab, stays in cab.”

  After a few moments, Jack dared to look across at Becca. Her lips were tight, cheeks were pink. Her hands were balled up in fists at her sides.

  “You tricked me,” she growled.

  “I did what I thought was right.”

  “You did what was right for you. I told you—” she pointed to Jack’s brow “—you’ve got rocks in your head if you think I’m going with you to talk to Angelica. If you do, I’ll tell her that she’s being a fool. That she’s destroying her family over the illusion of power. I’ll ask her where the hell she put her priorities.”

  In this mood, Jack had no doubt that she would.

  “I’ll drop you off at your office,” he said.

  She slumped back and held her head. “They’ll probably lynch me.”

  “Then I’ll drop you home.”

  “That’s not really addressing the problem, is it, Jack?”

  He shut his eyes, his patience running thin now.

  “I don’t know what you expect me to do,” he said. “If you’re waiting for a halo to magically appear above my head and a plea for forgiveness, don’t hold your breath.”

  She stared at the ceiling, tears in her eyes. “I’m a fool. I was attracted to you and I let that ruin everything.”

  “Depends on how you look at it.”

  Her voice was thick, resigned. “There’s only one way to look at it.”

  He didn’t think so. “I want to see you again, Becca.” And he didn’t care who knew.

  She froze, mouth half-open, eyes wide with shock. Then she shook herself and self-righteousness ruled again.

  “You actually want to throw more fuel on this fire? Maybe you want to screw with my affections so much that I’ll crumble and lead a munity of Lassiter management and employees against McCain?”

  “That’s crazy talk.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe I’m crazy.”

  “We’re not going to get anywhere if—”

  “That’s it, Jack. We, you and I, are not going to get anywhere. Because this is over. O-V-E-R.”

  * * *

  Angelica sent another text after Jack had dropped Becca home. She asked that he meet her at Lassiter Grill. He tried to ignore the ball of unease growing in the pit of his gut. The location was a sure sign. For her to suggest they meet there, she must have reconciled with her brother, Dylan, the one who’d been left controlling interest of the Lassiter Grill Group, including the restaurant here in L.A.

  Jack would hear what she had to say. Then, if there was any doubt whatsoever about her caving in to the terms of J.D.’s will, he’d do his damnedest to talk her out of it.

  When the cab dropped him off, Jack gave the driver a huge tip. As he walked into the restaurant, with its trademark rustic elegance, he spotted Angelica at a booth not far from the floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace. She sat staring into her coffee cup, looking like a jumper about to take that last step.

  “Hello, Angelica,” he said, sitting opposite her.

  Angelica’s head came up. Her expression was scathing. “What in the name of God were you thinking?”

  Jack thatched his fingers on the table in front of him. “You’re referring to Becca Stevens.”

  “The company, particularly the foundation, has been hit hard enough by this tug-of-war. Why in the name of everything sane would you go and sleep with that woman?”

  “I didn’t exactly plan it, Ange. Or not the way it turned out anyway.”

  She straightened in her seat. “I spoke with Logan. He was speechless.”

  And Jack was supposed to...what? Go to his room for time-out? “I am an adult. I don’t need to ask permission.”

  “You sure as hell do when you’re dragging my name down along with hers.” She shook her head, incredulous. “I thought you said you weren’t trying to get Becca on our side.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  She blinked and frowned. “So, this was purely for sport?”

  His teeth set so hard, his jaw ached. “I like Becca Stevens.”

  “Well, that’s a shame because you just destroyed her.”

  It was bad, but not that bad. And Jack sure as hell didn’t know why he was copping all the blame. “Becca’s an adult, too. I didn’t tie her down.”

  “She’s no match for you.” Angelica’s anger turned into concern. “No one is.”

  Time to get back on topic. He took a breath and focused. “You wanted to see me.”

  “I want to... I mean, I’m pretty sure that I want to...”

  “Walk away from your rightful inheritance?”

  She raised her voice. “I want things back the way they were.”

  “We can’t go back. We can only go forward. With commitment and justice on our side.” He believed that to his bones.

  Her head slowly tilted as she evaluated him through narrowed eyes. “You’re saying the words, but somehow you don’t sound as convinced.”

  That was news to him. But, granted... “It’s been a long battle. When things are worth fighting for, it’s never easy.”

  “Becca Stevens didn’t get to you, did she? Here I am thinking you’ve used her, but I wonder—”

  “If she had an effect on me?” Jack threw up his hands. “You know, in fact, yes, she did. She’s a special lady with a big heart and too many other assets to count.” He leaned forward. “But none of that changes what you and I are trying to achieve. Will achieve. Just think, Angelica. You won’t have to live with the label of the snubbed daughter of J. D. Lassiter for much longer.”

  Her eyes glistened with moisture.

  “You’re not as strong as J.D.,” Jack said. “You’re stronger. And when you need a rest, like now, I’m here to stand guard on the battlements.”

  She blew out a shaky breath, then rested her elbow on the table and held her brow. “You don’t know what it feels like to have to choose, Jack.”

  He might consider her fortunate. He was never given a choice.

  When Logan had informed him of the part he was to play in this unfolding drama, Jack had wanted to refuse. But a friend was a friend; that didn’t change once they died. And so he had agreed to comply with the special clause in J.D.’s will, which was meant solely for him and Angelica. Since that day he’d led her closer and closer toward a corporate showdown against Evan and anyone who stood behind him. The way Jack had looked at it, either outcome would be a victory.

  Now...he only wished Becca Stevens didn’t have to be part of the collateral damage.

  * * *

  Angelica called off the press conference, and Jack left her in
a better state, although he didn’t have a lot of faith in what the immediate future might bring. Angelica was an educated, capable woman. But he wondered how soon she would have crumpled and given in to the terms of the will if he hadn’t been stirring her pot.

  Jack ordered another cab, his intentions being to call in at the office—the first time ever wearing jeans, unlike Ms. Stevens. Not that he was in the mood to sit behind a desk. Truth be known, he felt like fishing...beside a quiet lake, simply to enjoy the atmosphere, the fresh air. The company.

  As eventful as his time with Becca had been, he had an ice cube’s chance in hell of rekindling those flames. Which got him thinking...just how long had it been since he’d been with a woman? The press played up his womanizing past. Jack’s take? If a guy was single and able, damned if he’d want to sit at home singing to his cats. But he wasn’t as ruthless in that department as the media made out. Of course it wasn’t every day a man came across someone as intriguing as Becca.

  She was in every way his match, including her annoying headstrong streak. And when they made love...she was wild and smart and incredibly generous. There were times when she exhausted him. She always inspired him.

  And he sincerely doubted she’d ever want to see his hide again.

  Jack was tossing around whether to tell the driver to ditch his earlier address and simply take him home when his cell phone beeped with a text. He prayed it wasn’t Angelica. Hoped against hope it might be Becca. It was neither.

  David Baldwin. Again.

  Still hope to see you this afternoon.

  Best, Dave.

  Jack felt bad for the man. He wished he could help the way David wanted him to. That was out of the question. But there was something more he could do. He had an afternoon to fill in anyway.

  The cab dropped Jack off in front of the Baldwin Boats office and factory. The signage across the front of the main building was faded. The o in boats was gone completely. The yard was free of workers. He glanced at his watch. After quitting time for the factory.

  As he neared the entrance, an odd, prickling feeling ran over his skin. He’d just take five minutes to tell Baldwin that not only was the deal still on the table, he would up the offer. Becca was right. How much money did one man need? And Dave had mentioned in one of the conversations that he had six kids. Six. What a scary thought. Four boys, two girls. What was it like growing up in a houseful of siblings? Noisy. Scary. Certainly never lonely.

  When the receptionist spotted him strolling in through the automatic entry doors, she shot to her feet.

  “Oh! Mr. Reed. Dave was expecting you. Well, he’d hoped...” She grinned like a kid who’d discovered every tree in the backyard had turned into a ball of cotton candy. “I’ll go tell him you’re here.”

  As she scurried off, Jack strolled around the reception area. Framed photographs hung on the walls, pictures of power catamarans, officials at boat launches. Quite a few of David, the earliest from perhaps twenty years ago. Before putting the contract together, he’d had a full background check compiled. David was only a little older than Jack, although he looked at least, ten years older. Stress could do that to a person. And while Jack lived with stress, it wasn’t the kind where he had to scramble to find the next mortgage payment, or wonder when the utilities might be turned off. He didn’t have to worry every week whether or not he could make the payroll. Jack knew that had been Dave’s dilemma pretty much since the recession had hit and turned the economy on its head.

  Dave ambled out from his office, a big smile plastered on his face. When he held out his hand, Jack took a hold and shook. There was a lot to be said about a man’s handshake and Dave Baldwin’s was firm without being cocky.

  “Jack, glad you could make it,” Dave said, ushering him down the corridor. He was a tall man. Almost as tall as Jack.

  “Seems I’m too late for that get together,” Jack said. Looked like everyone else had gone.

  “Not too late at all.”

  They sat in tub chairs in Dave’s office, a room that overlooked the factory yard. Outside Jack saw a couple of fixed cranes, several boat molds, numerous trailers, trolleys meant to shift upward of six tons. There was plenty of value in those assets. From previous conversations, Jack knew that Dave would never consider downsizing, which would mean putting people on unemployment. Men of Dave’s ilk lived by two mottos: natural attrition only, and the captain must go down with the ship.

  “Can I get you a coffee, Jack?”

  “Got a beer?”

  Dave brought two back from a bar fridge tucked under a counter covered with engineering plans. Jack cracked open the beer and downed a couple of much appreciated mouthfuls.

  “Hmm. Cold,” he said.

  “I like it so cold that my lips turn numb.”

  Jack grinned. “Me, too.”

  “Cheryl and I have four boys, you know?”

  “You mentioned.”

  “Oldest turning twenty-one next spring. Old enough to drink, to vote. It’s scary how quickly time goes. I was twenty-one when I first got into this business. I worked my rear end off. When the owner decided to retire, he asked if I wanted to buy in. I learned everything from that man. He was like a father to me.”

  “That’s a long time in one place. I understand why you think of your employees as family.”

  “Family...” Studying the floor near his feet, David nodded deeply. “It’s the most powerful word in the dictionary, don’t you think? Just the idea of family makes a person feel warm and included.” He caught Jack’s gaze. “And sometimes a little overwhelmed.”

  Dave was looking at him so curiously, as if his face was a mask he wanted peeled back to see what lay underneath. Jack, however, couldn’t help thinking about the Lassiter family, how it had all come together only to be recently torn apart.

  “You have two daughters, too,” Jack said.

  “They’re the youngest. Twins. Only six. My wife worries that we’re old parents. That we might not be around to see our youngest grandkids. I tell her that our memory and our love will live on. Those girls, the boys too, will always know where they came from and that they were loved.”

  Jack sipped his beer. Was that too much information? And yet after the week he’d had, sitting here, tipping back while Dave philosophized on the context of family seemed somehow acceptable. Even agreeable.

  It was good to truly shirk off the Lassiter problem for a while. To forget how upset Becca had still been when he’d dropped her home. No matter how combustible the chemistry—no matter how much Becca had wanted what they’d shared—he couldn’t believe she would ever want to lay eyes on him again. How could something so good end up so bad?

  “You grew up an only child, right?” Dave was saying.

  “My mother had health problems. My parents rated it a small miracle that I was conceived.”

  Jack always felt a kind of bond between Ellie Lassiter and his own mother because of that.

  “Did you ever wonder what it would be like to have a sister or brother?”

  Funny he should ask. “One of my first memories was asking my dad if he could stop on his way home from work and pick one up for me.”

  They both chuckled. Jack was enjoying the downtime, but he supposed it wouldn’t do to get too friendly. He needed to wrap things up and get back on the road soon.

  “Dave, I’ve been thinking about our deal. I’d like to throw a bit more into the hat.”

  Jack offered a figure—more than he’d even intended. When Dave simply sat there studying him with the hint of a smile on his lips, Jack shifted in his seat, cleared his throat. Perhaps he needed to clarify his position.

  “I like you, Dave. You’re a stand-up guy. But I’m not looking at this with the prospect of becoming business partners.”

  “You’re not.”

  “No, I�
�m not.”

  “How about brothers?”

  Jack’s stomach knotted but he held his gaze. “I’m sorry. I can’t become part of your family.”

  “You already are.”

  Jack breathed slowly out. Okay, this was getting awkward. He pushed to his feet. “I should head off.”

  Dave remained seated. “I’d rather you stay. We still have so much to talk about.”

  When Dave’s oddly calm expression held, Jack confronted him. Something more than a business deal was going on here. “What’s this all about?”

  “I told you—”

  “Family?”

  “I only found out two months ago.”

  “Found out what?”

  “Two months ago, my mother was in hospital. Complications with diabetes. She passed away.”

  Jack exhaled. What was he supposed to say to that? He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry. My own mother died ten years ago.”

  She’d been a loving, selfless person. Jack had shed tears at her funeral and wasn’t ashamed to admit it. He was shell-shocked when his father had followed her only months later.

  “Before she died,” Dave went on, “she said she needed to pass something on. A story about me that also involves you, Jack.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  “Your father never knew...”

  For God’s sake. “Spit it out.”

  “Your father dated my mother when she originally lived in Cheyenne. They had a disagreement and broke up. It seemed his family didn’t think she was good enough. Not long after that, he married your mother and my mom moved and married my dad.” He sat back. “She didn’t want her new husband to know that she was pregnant with John Reed’s baby. That she was three months pregnant with me.”

  As Jack’s ears began to ring, he simply stared and then coughed out a mirthless laugh. “You want me to believe...what? That I have a half brother...that you’re my half brother and my father hid it from me my entire life?”