Dana followed. Clearly Grace wasn’t going to tell her what brilliant idea she’d cooked up with this Kent person.
They entered the smaller of the two dining rooms. Dana waited for her grandmother to sit before taking her seat. There were no formal rules, but everyone in the clan always deferred to Grace, the matriarch of the Meadows family.
Dana watched the flurried activity of the maid entering and exiting the room, busy with her morning tasks. She figured that her grandmother did most of this for effect, to show that she was still in control. The sparse meal sitting in front of Grace was a boiled egg and a bowl of oatmeal. In the company of Grace’s light fare, Dana never pigged out; instead, she had a fruit salad and a yogurt.
However, when she ditched her grandmother at the office, she’d head out for a big lunch.
“Why are you meeting with the lifestyle editor?” Dana wondered how many others were meeting with Grace.
“She had an idea about doing a follow-up on the kids who survived the Hurricane Katrina destruction. Kind of a where-are-they-now? piece.”
“And she didn’t feel that she could bring the matter through the current channels?”
“Now, now, don’t get your nose out of joint. I was having lunch with a few of the department heads when you were in New York, including Lauren Kirby, who’s the polar opposite of O’Brien. He’s an acquired taste, don’t you think? She mentioned that she had a germ of an idea. We hashed it out until she had a rough draft. Now she’s ready to run the entire thing past me for my final input. Then she’ll bring it to you.”
Dana didn’t hide her irritation. “By then, it’s too late. You’ve already given it your blessing.” Until she had a sure footing in the company, she planned to copy Grace’s style. As acting CEO, Dana oversaw all the departments, with a more hands-on approach for the family-oriented magazine, which had been the backbone of Meadows Publishing, now Meadows Media.
“Not at all. If you don’t like it, then don’t give it the green light.” Grace shrugged. Ambivalence didn’t become her. Dana recognized that her grandmother was giving her a dose of her own “whatever” behavior.
“Right. Like I’m going to go on record turning down a Grace Meadows brainchild.”
Her grandmother looked at her and then returned her attention to the bowl of oatmeal. She downed several spoonfuls before wiping her mouth. “You, as usual, are being ridiculous.”
Dana bit back her reply. She could never win an argument. Not that her grandmother was an excellent debater. Instead, she could be horrendously stubborn. Hashing over the finer details of the reporting chain would be a waste.
“I’m done.” Dana had barely touched the fruit salad. When she was around Grace, she wanted eggs, bacon and hash browns. Large helpings of comfort food to ease the stress.
“The car will be around to pick us up in a few minutes.”
“I can drive. I want to drive.”
Grace paused, clearly not pleased with her choice.
Dana pushed back her chair and headed for the door. This time, she didn’t wait for her grandmother to stand. She’d been hit with enough that she needed space and whatever time she had on the drive to work through the myriad of things flitting around in her mind, including Grace’s surprise “learning opportunity” with Kent what’s-his-name.
Dana relished driving into the office—alone. Her grandmother, on the other hand, liked her perks of a chauffeur. Maybe when Dana got up there in years, she’d give up some of her independence to someone who spent his entire day waiting to drive her wherever she wished. Right now, she needed the extra quiet time to ready her mind for the corporate world.
A half hour later, she pulled into the underground garage. The Meadows Media headquarters was a beautiful piece of architecture and a proud part of the city’s upstate New York skyline. The office was built almost thirty years ago when the race to the sky was in full effect with skyscrapers. They had not only built up, but also out, as the Meadows-owned corporation expanded into the family entertainment business with TV, magazine, and radio divisions.
Against this backdrop, Grace had signaled her retirement with the expected announcement of Dana taking over as acting CEO. The official hand-off was expected to occur at the board’s meeting, but the minor rumblings of other candidates hoping for the position wore down Dana’s nerves. It didn’t help that, during the transition, Grace maintained a heavy presence in the office. It was rare that a day went by without her regal march through the office, as if her letting go was only a figment of her employees’ imaginations. Dana thought that today happened to be a bit more intense since her grandmother had a mission of sorts. Not once had Grace offered her granddaughter any guaranteed reassurance that the job would be hers. That fact unsettled Dana more than she let on.
“Good morning, Dana. Your schedule and notes are on your desk, along with your coffee.”
“Thanks, Sasha.” Dana headed into her office and aimed for her desk. Her schedule was a fluid document that started with a few appointments and, by midday, had Dana engaged in one meeting or another.
“Ah, just so you know...Grace has added a few meetings to your schedule.”
Dana’s hand paused over the keyboard. Her schedule filled the PC monitor. Obviously she couldn’t prevent Grace from gluing her butt to the throne she’d built. This interference with her schedule was a bit much. Dana gritted her teeth and bit back her anger.
Sasha was perceptive, though. In a lot of cases, she was the bearer of office news, a one-way flow of information. This prickly situation between Grace and Dana was one subject that was off-limits for discussion.
Dana’s finger scrolled down the list of appointments. She checked the time at the bottom of the monitor screen. The first added meeting was only a few minutes away. Details listed under each appointment didn’t include Grace as an attendee. Small blessings. Having Grace attend her meetings was nerve-wracking. It was why she partied, to release the pressure valve.
The possibility of becoming the CEO and president was always out there in the periphery. Not close enough to feel real.
Little more than six months ago, Grace had reeled in the leash with little warning that preparation for the role of a lifetime would begin in earnest. The days of walking out without telling her assistant and not returning until the end of the day to then go off and hang out were over. Time to find a quiet place to think, was how she justified those midday absences. Now, those absences grew less frequent and the long hours into the evening spent in the office added up.
Last night, as Dana tiredly looked over the freeloaders in her house, she had come to the conclusion that she did want this job—not the current job, as acting CEO—but the full-blown title of president and CEO of Meadows Media. She might not look like a true blue leader right now, but she wanted to be one because she knew this business and she loved the company, but, more importantly, she loved her grandmother.
“Dana, you’ve got a call from Sean—” Sasha had answered her phone.
“Hang up on him.”
“He’s downstairs.”
“Send him up.” Dana raised her hand. “No. Wait.”
Sasha froze and waited for her next directive. Her perceptive hazel eyes took in her boss’s distress.
“I’ll go down to meet him.”
“Do you want me to call you and say that you have a meeting?”
“Give me ten minutes. If I’m not up here, send in the cavalry.” Dana had no doubt that she’d take care of business before Sasha had to institute Plan B.
“Cool.”
Dana chuckled at Sasha’s exuberance. Now her assistant might have to bail her out of a personal jam. Between Grace, Leona, and Sasha, she appeared to be unable to handle both the professional and personal areas in her life.
Dana headed to the elevators and rode the cab while rehearsin
g how she could cut Sean loose. One thing she had to do was stop inviting him back into her life, even as escort to the shindigs she attended. Her only reason for being with him was boredom. Nothing about him held her interest. He used to be the life of the party, knew all the exclusive spots where being a socialite wasn’t enough to get her in. As time marched on, she had grown up and his appeal got more wilted around the edges
She emerged into the lobby, scanning the faces of incoming personnel and visitors. He couldn’t get through security without a pass or authorized instruction left at the front desk. She walked toward the holding area. There he was, looking disheveled and pale. Crashing on her couch after the party may have helped his drunken state, but he looked like he could have slept for another three hours. No doubt her housekeeper had done the sweep-out and included him in it.
“What do you want, Sean?” Dana motioned him over to the side and out of the way of nosy company employees.
“I...woke up...sorry for bringing all those people. Gosh, I want you.” Sean grinned, sheepish but hopeful.
“Got to give it to you. You’ve got a brass pair. You wanted to impress your friends and acted like the host all night long.”
“I acted like we’re a couple.” He blinked, his face taking on a dreamy appearance. “We were once.”
“Once. A year is enough time to get over it.” Dana moved closer to him. He perked up, trying to stand straighter.
“Baby, you are on your way up. You’ll need someone at your side who knows you. Who can be there for you.” He wiped his forehead, which prickled with sweat.
“Someone who can mooch off of me, right?” Dana had tolerated Sean and his weaknesses because he previously hadn’t pushed for anything more than friendship.
“A few mistakes. I’ll get back on my feet.”
The more he talked, the more sure she was. Sean was her past. She didn’t look back, as a general rule, and not for her men. He had all the attributes of a pretty boy. Memories of those glory days, when he was a stockbroker and she was just a socialite, were stuck in his current mind-set. Even then, when it was all laughter and champagne, he was cotton candy with no umph.
She slipped her arm through his. He relaxed. A grateful, bleached-white smile popped against his overly tanned skin. They exited the building to stand on the sidewalk, still busy with foot traffic.
“Sean, you need to move on.” She raised her hand and a cab swung toward the front of the building. Dana opened the back door and motioned for him to enter. “Where are you heading?”
“What?”
“Who are you shacking up with?”
“Um...ah...”
“Don’t worry. I’ll pay the cab fare. Your last freebie on my dime, by the way. This is goodbye.”
“2000 Silver Birch Terrace.”
Dana repeated the familiar address for the cab driver. “Tell your mom I said hello.”
She slammed the door closed and, for added effect, brushed her hands together, as if ridding herself of grime.
Dana walked back into the building, stopping by the security booth to instruct them that Sean Lassiter was never to be allowed in the building again. With that, she entered the elevator as her phone rang with Sasha’s name popping up to bail her out. No need. She’d managed to clear herself of baggage with no regrets.
Chapter 3
Dana scanned her schedule again, noticing the additional appointments courtesy of Grace. Apparently this was going to be the modus operandi for the foreseeable future. Or until she begged her grandmother to stop. Instead of the usual morning meeting with the department heads, she now had to meet Kent Fraser, an executive coach from England. Sasha had quickly searched for him on the internet and provided Dana with the results.
“Kent Fraser.” The name sounded like an uptight, British snob stuck in the days when airs and grace mattered. She snorted.
Was he going to whip her into shape like Audrey Hepburn’s classic character? Take her from rags to riches? Fool the masses with his skills? Good luck with those plans. She didn’t need that sort of help.
“He’s here.” Sasha rushed into her office. “I went down to meet him.” Sasha was known for her perky demeanor, an abundance of smiles, doelike, expressive eyes, a mop of spiral locks. Today she had been reduced to a giggling, blushing young woman, as if she was on her first date.
“Why? He could have found his way up here.”
“Grace suggested that...”
Dana raised her hand. “Never mind.” Who on earth was this man that had her staffers stumbling over themselves for him? “Where is he now?” She looked behind Sasha, wondering if her doors would be flung open wide and the great one would walk through to the sound of trumpeters.
“He made a pit stop.”
“So he’s human after all.”
Sasha looked at her with a frown as if she had blasphemed.
Dana decided to try to play nice. “Show his lordship in when he returns to your desk.”
“Hi, there. Thought that I’d save Sasha the trouble and show myself in. Hope you don’t mind.”
Dana’s pen dropped from her fingertips. Her admiration for him—and it was most certainly such a feeling—started at the top of that slim, trim and damn fine figure of a man. He approached her desk and she swore she heard a voice-over at a fashion show describing the intricacies of his sleek, fitted business suit. Not only did he have drop-dead good looks like a model, he had a vibe that enticed, lassoed and hooked its victim. Kent’s easy, casual confidence gave the impression that he was comfortable in his luscious brown skin.
Didn’t mean that she didn’t appreciate what stood before her. What she’d expected and what stood before her were miles apart. Maybe she should have done her homework and checked up on more than his credentials. But she’d been so sure that her grandmother had dug out a fossil to work with her that she hadn’t bothered with the finer details.
Dana smoothed the front of her dress, feeling that she didn’t measure up to his polished persona. Her assessment took it all in, but lingered on his face. She couldn’t help it. He returned her gaze equally without any shyness.
“Kent Fraser, at your service.”
“Dana Meadows.” She’d keep to herself what and how she wanted to be served by this posh British brother.
“I’ll leave you two.” Sasha backed out of the office, as if turning her gaze away from him would rob her of something vital.
“Mr. Fraser, would you like coffee...or tea?” Did all British hunks drink tea?
“Coffee. Black, no sugar, please.”
Dana nodded to Sasha, who lingered in the doorway. She knew her assistant would get Dana her usual smoothie choice. She returned her attention to her new coach. Yes, she had accepted her fate, with a new verve.
“Since we’ll be working together, please call me Kent. And I’ll call you Dana.”
Looked as if his confidence matched his good looks.
“Will Grace be joining us?”
“No. Have you known my grandmother for a long time?”
“I first met her several years ago when I worked for another firm that was a client. Things didn’t go well between the firm and your grandmother, who ended her relationship with my client. Then our paths recently crossed again when I was attached to another firm and we reconnected at a business dinner.”
Dana nodded. Terminating a contract sounded like her grandmother. Her reputation as a demanding boss was equal to her notoriety for being a sharklike businesswoman. No one dared cross her and survived to tell the tale. Dana didn’t know if she had it in her personal arsenal to approach situations with that keen edge.
“Almost immediately, she approached me to work with her on a consultative basis. Then, upon her recommendation, I got more clients. What I have today is in large part due to her influenc
e and support.”
Alarm bells rang on hyper-alert. This man who was hired to “help” her was not just a random person plucked out of the network. His loyalty clearly was aligned with Grace. What Dana did, what she said, how she reacted would all be transmitted in his reports.
Dana re-erected the walls that had crumbled a bit when Kent entered her office. She’d been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, looking forward to an objective ally of sorts.
“What’s next, Kent? Or will you tell me on a need-to-know basis?”
* * *
Kent read people. It was his job. From the no-nonsense security at the reception area downstairs to Sasha, the assistant, to Dana Meadows, he read them all. He didn’t jump to judgment, but simply filed the details away as he continued to assess. Fixing problems didn’t happen overnight. Most times, working with executives required observation, proposals and remedies that he’d constantly tweak to accommodate the client’s personal style.
From the instant that he saw Dana, he recognized wariness in her. She visibly withdrew as he explained his connection with Grace, and he couldn’t determine the cause yet. The problem didn’t influence his approach, except to make him a little more careful with getting Dana to open up about herself and her vision.
He looked forward to the immediate task. How could he not, when his client was a sensible beauty? His mother had coined that term for women with brains and looks.
Not too often did he have an attractive client to distract him. In those cases, the woman was all window dressing with no substance. A buzzkill for his tastes. Sitting primly in front of him was that substance in style and grace. He tried not to be affected by her beauty, which turned Dana into a triple threat against his defenses.
Grace hadn’t given him a deadline, but he suspected that there was a short window. It was not a secret that Grace wanted to remove herself completely from the administrative functions of the company that she had created. It was also no secret that the heir apparent who sat in front of him had the momentum to become the next CEO and president.
One of a Kind Page 3
