Beyond Business: Falling for the Boss / Her Best-Kept Secret / Mergers & Matrimony

Beyond Business

ELIZABETH HARBISON

BRENDA HARLEN

ALLISON LEIGH

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ELIZABETH HARBISON

My thanks to Andre Coutu and James Price,

who got me out of my old house. Thanks also

to Charles Clark of Waterworks Plumbing

in Snow Hill, MD — a true hero in times of need

(and leaky pipes and bathtubs) — who made my

new house so much nicer…and drier.

Prologue

The fact that he actually asked her if she was really sure she was ready to do it made her love him all the more.

What other eighteen-year-old guy with a normal libido would be that considerate? Meredith Waters knew—she absolutely knew—that if she’d told Evan she wasn’t ready, that she was chickening out even though they’d planned this romantic evening together for the past five weeks, he would have backed right off.

He might have needed a cold shower. A really long cold shower. But he would have let her off the hook without the usual guy nonsense about everything from promises broken to the supposedly serious medical consequences of unsatisfied desire.

Guys were, by and large, idiots.

But not Evan Hanson. Evan proved there really were Prince Charmings out there, though they were few and far between. Evan was Meredith’s soul mate. She was sure of it. Not that they were the same kind of people—far from it. He was wild and she was conservative. But they complemented each other. And they felt the same way about the most important things. They had the same standards and the same goals for their lives.

Most important, Evan was a guy she knew she could count on through thick and thin. The school and their parents might have thought he was sort of a wild kid, but Meredith knew he’d always be there for her.

Which made her all the more sure that she would never regret what they were about to do. She was a lucky, lucky girl to have her first time be with a guy like Evan.

“Are you sure?” he asked her again, running his hand down the length of her upper arm.

They were lying in her canopy bed, facing each other. Her parents were out of town for four more days, so not only was the guy perfect but the setting was, too.

She smiled at him, taking in his dark good looks like a tall glass of cold water on a hot day.

And it was definitely hot in here.

“I’m sure,” she said, then cocked her head playfully. “But I’m getting the impression you’re not so sure.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” He pulled her over to him and kissed her deeply, rolling onto his back so she was on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her so close she almost couldn’t tell where she stopped and he began.

She loved that feeling.

They kissed and kissed, just like they always did. They’d done it so much at this point that they practically had it down to a science. He moved his mouth this way, she moved her mouth that way, their tongues touched, and—poof! Magic.

“I love you, Mer,” Evan whispered, slowly rolling her over so she was on her back on the soft mattress and laced-edged sheets she’d bought last month with this moment in mind.

“I love you, too,” she said, her response automatic and completely without doubt. “More than you’ll ever realize.”

He gave that Cheshire-cat grin she adored and reached over to turn off the light on her bedside table.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did she noticed a slash of moonlight cutting through the curtains and spilling onto her bed.

Perfect.

And it was. It was just … right.

Afterward, as she lay in the bed looking out the window while the moon slowly floated higher and crossed the sky like a big silver balloon, she felt more joy than she’d ever felt in her entire life.

Meredith smiled in the dark as Evan talked to her in hushed tones about how beautiful she was and how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and how if he didn’t get over to the Silver Car Diner for some blueberry pancakes and vanilla cola fast he was going to die.

This, she realized, was perfect contentment.

What she didn’t realize, in these last few moments of blissful ignorance, was that within two months Evan would be thousands of miles away, without so much as a goodbye, and that he wouldn’t look back for more than a decade.

Chapter One

“And that concludes the reading of the will of George Arthur Hanson.”

Evan Hanson sat still in the stiff leather chair, feeling like a caricature of the prodigal son, drawn in invisible ink.

He’d returned, as prodigal sons always did, against his better judgment. Instinct had warned him that this would be nothing but trouble—and probably painful to boot—but he’d ignored instinct.

That was a mistake.

His uncle, David Hanson, had been unusually persuasive in convincing him to come back for the reading of the will. David knew Evan had suffered years of conflict with his father, and that George hadn’t spoken to his son since he’d left. Still, David had pointed out to Evan that, while it might be too late to mend fences with his father, he could at least come and hear the patriarch’s last message to him and perhaps gain some peace.

It had been peaceful, all right. In fact, his father’s message was a resounding silence.

George Hanson had neglected to so much as mention Evan’s name in his will, not even to say, “And to my second son, Evan, I leave absolutely nothing. Nada. Zip. Not even a stainless-steel spoon.”

It was as if Evan didn’t exist to his father.

No, it was worse than that. Evan knew his father well enough to know this lack of mention meant that, to George, Evan really hadn’t existed anymore once he’d left the country twelve years ago. Since George had effectively run him out of town twelve years ago, that was, by holding the worst kind of emotional blackmail over his head.

Since then, his job presumably done, George had written Evan off, forgotten about him completely.

Everyone knows it’s more of an insult to ignore someone than to tell them off. And George had ignored Evan like a champ. They hadn’t spoken in twelve years. Sure, Evan could shoulder half the blame for that, but when he’d left he was only eighteen, and his father knew damn well he’d created a situation that made Evan feel as if he couldn’t come back.

Surely George should have seen the crisis he’d sent his teenage son into and done something to fix it, or at least make it better. It wasn’t in George’s nature to extend an olive branch, but even pelting Evan with olives would have been better than the eerie silence.

George hadn’t bothered to do anything. He probably hadn’t even thought about his middle son more than once or twice in the time between Then and Now.

If only Evan had the same sort of control over his thoughts. He’d have liked to forget his father … and the difficulty of losing his mother when he was seventeen.

And one or two other heartaches—well, one in particular—that had shaped him into the man he was today. A man who wanted nothing to do with his family or with intimate relationships of any sort.

The lawyer closed his books, and Evan’s relatives began to discuss the reading amongst themselves, expressing anger at what they had or had not received and at the fact that George had left his young wife full control of Hanson Media Group.

Evan didn’t care. It wasn’t his problem. None of this was his problem. So with full intentions of leaving it behind forever, he took a deep breath, got up out of his chair and walked purposefully out of the room, planning to keep going until he got to the airport and left American soil for good.

He must have actually convinced himself that no one was aware of his presence because when he heard someone calling his name behind him, at first it didn’t register.

“Evan!” It was a woman’s voice. One he didn’t recognize, though there was nothing surprising about that. It had been more than a decade since he’d heard the voice of anyone in that boardroom.

“Please stop, Evan,” she said again. “I’d like to talk to you for a moment.”

He stopped and turned to see his father’s wife coming toward him in the hallway, a worried expression knitting her flawless features. Her golden hair framed her face as if it had been painted by Vermeer, and her green eyes were bright and alive.

Helen Hanson couldn’t have been more obviously a trophy wife if she had been gilded and nailed to a slab of marble.

He’d never met her before—his father had married shortly after he’d left—but, given the circumstances of their meeting now, it wasn’t easy to feel any warmth toward her.

“I know you’re probably angry about what just happened in there,” she began.

“I’m not angry.” His tone was cold like his father’s, he realized with disgust. “What happened in there—” he gestured toward the room “—is no surprise. In fact, it’s absolutely typical of your husband.”

She gave a pained nod. “I see why you feel that way, but he was your father, Evan. Don’t forget that. Though I know you must feel he rejected you.”

He’d thought he’d reached his fill of pain but Helen’s words managed to slice deeper still. “I don’t feel he rejected me, I know he rejected me. But don’t worry about it, it’s not the first time. And knowing how spiteful the old son of a bitch could be, it’s probably not the last time, either.”

“Evan—”

“He could always find a way to express his displeasure with his family.” Evan gave a dry laugh. “You might want to watch your own back. Not that you really have anything to worry about. I mean, you did get the company.”

Helen winced slightly and hesitated before speaking. “Evan, the company belongs to the Hanson family. All of you, not me. It always will.”

He gave a dry laugh and looked toward the conference room of the Hanson Media offices, where everyone was still arguing about the outcome of the will. “Try telling that to them.”

“They’ll find out in time,” she answered. Her tone was dismissive of them, but she was looking at Evan intently. “But you—well, it looks like you’re not going to stay in Chicago long enough to find out unless someone stops you.”

He looked Helen Hanson up and down. She was beautiful—no surprise there—but she also had some nerve. “Is that what you think you’re doing? Stopping me?”

She drew herself up and looked him in the eye. “That’s what I’m hoping to do.”

He shook his head. “Don’t waste your effort. I’ve got no interest whatsoever in what happens to this damned company now.”

“But you should,” Helen urged. “Don’t forget there’s a stipulation that twenty percent of the company or company revenues will go to the grandchildren in twenty years.”

Evan spread his arms and shrugged. “I realize my father probably didn’t tell you much about me, so maybe it’s news to you, but I don’t have any kids.”

Helen’s expression softened. “I do know that. But you’re only thirty, Evan. You don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. You might well change your mind.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to contradict her, but he’d seen many foolish men make the mistake of banking on their single and childless status, only to be surprised by some turn of events later in life.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll grant you that—I don’t know what’s going to happen. But if I should have kids in the future, they don’t need the tainted fortunes of George Hanson, anyway.”

She shook her head. “Don’t let the sins of your father be visited upon your son.” She smiled. Even though it was a small, sad smile, it was dazzling. “Or your daughter, as the case may eventually be.”

Evan couldn’t see that happening, and it made him uncomfortable to hear Helen say it, but he didn’t argue the case. There was no point. “I’ll take my chances,” he said, then added halfheartedly, “So will my unborn children.”

“Evan, please. Reconsider. Take just a little time. This isn’t just about the business. It’s about your family. Not your father, but your brothers. The whole family is fractured, and they can’t heal without you. You’re part of them.”

He knew he should just walk away, but the woman’s desperation intrigued him. Why should she care so much whether a man she’d never met before stayed or went? Surely her husband had told her what a good-for-nothing his middle son was.

“What are you asking me to do?” he asked her.

“I’d like you to stay,” Helen said, her voice ringing with sincerity. “I know it probably sounds strange to you, since we don’t know each other, but I’ve got a good feeling about you. I’d like to have your help—actually, Evan, I need your help—in returning Hanson Media Group to its former glory.”

He hadn’t seen that one coming. If she hadn’t looked so completely earnest, he would have laughed. Instead, he just asked the logical question. “Why me? You’ve got the whole team on your side.” He gestured toward the conference room. “Every one of them has more experience with the company than I do.”

Helen glanced behind her and took a step closer to Evan. Her light perfume surrounded her like a protective barrier of … flowers. “But I’m not sure they’re going to stay onboard in light of your father’s directives. George had a way of manipulating things, you know.”

Oh, he knew.

“Anyway,” she went on quickly, as if realizing she shouldn’t have said that, “I don’t know why, but, Evan, I have the feeling I can trust you.”

He followed her gaze behind her. No one was there. He almost wished there was someone, though, because he wasn’t at all sure he wanted Helen Hanson’s confidence. “Look,” he said uneasily. “I don’t know what you’ve got in mind, but I can’t promise I can do anything to help you.”

She sized him up for a moment before saying, “I care about you and your brothers. I truly care about your entire family. Do you believe that?”

He shrugged. “I don’t have any reason not to, I suppose.” After all, Helen held all the cards. With controlling interest in the company, she didn’t have to deal with any of the Hansons now. If she was doing so, it was by choice.

Her smile was genuine. “Good. Then trust me when I say that the company needs you.”

“The company has been doing just fine without me for a lot of years.”

“Not really,” Helen said. “In fact, the bottom line these past few years has been decidedly bleak.”

Evan frowned. “How bleak?”

“Bleak enough that the porn scandal on the Web site was enough to push us firmly into the red.”

Jack had e-mailed him—when was it? A month ago? Two?—indicating that the family should get more involved in the business, but Evan had assumed it was just a ploy to get him back into the fold. He’d never imagined that his father had actually dropped the ball and sent the business hurtling toward bankruptcy.

Still, what could Evan do? The only job he’d ever had was running a little beachfront bar in Majorca. And even that could hardly be considered work.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, honestly.” Evan shrugged. “But if you’re looking to bring the business back to life, you’re looking at the wrong guy. I’m not much of a corporate type. It’s not just that I don’t want to help, it’s that I honestly don’t have anything to offer.”

“Maybe not, but you’re a risk taker, from what your father told me. And I can tell you’re an honest man. He told me that, too. Hanson Media needs that right now.”

That stopped Evan. “My father told you that?” He gave a wry smile. “You do know my father was George Hanson, right?”

“He was more fond of you than you know,” Helen said, and she sounded as though she really believed it. “He talked about you quite a lot. Said you’d left when you were young and that you’d been living overseas all this time.”

“He told you that.”

She nodded. “You know, he thought you’d be back. For years he thought you’d come crawling back asking for money, and when you didn’t he was secretly impressed.”

Evan was embarrassed at the small lump that formed in his throat. He wanted to believe this, even while he still loathed the man and what he’d done to Evan. He wanted, if only for his own peace of mind, to believe that his father hadn’t been so detached that he’d just completely forgotten him. “Not so impressed that he ever tried to contact me.”

“No.” A distant look came into her eyes, and she shook her head. “But you know as well as I do that the fact that he didn’t contact you had nothing to do with the amount of pride or lack of pride he felt in you. It was all about his own pride. Everything was about his pride,” she added softly.

Evan looked at his father’s wife with new eyes. Most women in her position would have been content to let the whole family dissolve so they could regain the money and power for themselves, but Helen was actually reaching out to them.

Now he was left with a choice. He’d already stood here for five minutes talking to her. Five minutes were chipped away from his intended release from the Hanson family. Now he was actually considering Helen’s plea for him to stay, and he wasn’t sure that was a good idea.

“Look, Helen, what’s the upshot here? Give me the bottom line. What exactly are you asking me to do?”

She took a short, bracing breath. “Okay, direct and to the point. I can do that.” She met his eyes. “The company is down but it’s not out yet. For many reasons I want to fix that. My reasons don’t matter that much to you, because you must surely have your own reasons for wanting to stay. It’s your legacy. If you have children someday, it’s their legacy. The time to fix it is now, and I’ve got a plan. If it doesn’t work—” she shrugged “—at least you can’t say you didn’t try.”

“And what do you propose a guy like me, a guy with no business experience whatsoever, should do within this corporation in order to up the revenues?”

“That’s easy,” Helen replied quickly. “You’re smart. A guy with a social conscience and definitely a world view. And, not least, you are a Hanson.”

He listened, unable to agree with her for fear of what he’d find himself committing to.

“So what I propose is that you take over the radio division of Hanson Media Group.”

He gave a shout of laughter before he realized she was serious.

“The radio division,” he repeated, visions of Rush Limbaugh and Howard Stern dancing in his head. “Me.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded, her green gaze steady on him. “I think you’d be perfect.”

“You do know I have no experience in that area whatsoever.” He gave another laugh. He couldn’t help it. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Given the recent scandal, I think your lack of experience might, in fact, be a plus.” She smiled, but there was pleading in her eyes. “I’m only asking you to stay on for three months or so. Just to give it a try. What do you say, Evan? Will you do it? Please.”

He thought about it. Majorca would still be there in three months. So would St. Bart’s, Fiji or anywhere else he wanted to go. When he’d sold the beachfront bar, he’d made quite a tidy profit. His father would have been surprised to learn that his “beach bum” son was smart enough to invest his earnings.

In any event, he could afford—at least in the monetary sense—to stick around for a little while and see what happened.

The question was, could he afford the mental toll it would undoubtedly take on him to stay?

Suddenly the words of his uncle, David Hanson, came back to him. David had been trying to convince Evan to come back and mend fences with his father several months ago, before it was too late.

Think about it, Evan, David had said. You don’t need to do this for George. You need to do it for yourself.

Those were the words that had brought Evan back, even though he’d arrived too late. They were the words that had rung in his mind when he’d contemplated seeing his siblings again. Who knew where life would take them eventually? Right now they were all here, working together toward a common goal, and he had the opportunity to help with that.

Granted, failure was possible. All he could do was his own personal best. If someone couldn’t accept him or forgive him, he didn’t have to carry it.

“Okay,” he heard himself saying to Helen, despite the fact that it went against every instinct he felt in his gut. Instinct that told him to run like hell and never look back. “I’ll do it.”

Chapter Two

“What I’m looking for is someone to work in advertising and public relations under my brother-in-law,” Helen Hanson was saying to the young brunette woman before her.

Meredith Waters sat uncomfortably in the plush chair opposite Helen’s sleek, modern desk, wondering if it was appropriate or wildly inappropriate to mention her history with the Hanson family before this job interview with Hanson Media went any further.

She never thought she’d set foot in the company George Hanson had built. Not after what he’d done to her family.

“I think you’ll agree, the benefits are generous,” Helen went on, handing a folder across the desk to Meredith. Her hand was delicate and smooth, her manicure perfect. Helen Hanson was perfectly turned out.

Meredith glanced at the folder, so it at least looked as if she was interested. Medical, dental, two weeks’ vacation time, two weeks’ personal time … yes, the terms were extremely generous. A person would have to be a fool to turn this down.

Of course, Meredith would have taken the job no matter what, even if it had paid minimum wage and offered the single benefit of a half hour’s lunch once a week. Pretending to hesitate was just that—pretending.

It was all a game.

She just hoped she could play it without anyone finding out.

“I’d like to think about it,” Meredith lied. She didn’t need to think about it. She was ready to start now. “Could I take a day or two and get back to you?”

Helen looked uncertain. “I’d really like to fill the position as soon as possible. As you’re undoubtedly aware, I’ve only just come back myself.” She gestured at some of the packed boxes that were piled in the corner. “Plus, we have a major scandal we’re still trying to clean up, and there’s a lot of work to do. If you’re unsure of your interest, that’s fine, but please understand I’ll have to keep interviewing.”

Clearly, Helen was a master at this game.

Meredith tipped her head slightly. “You sure know how to make an offer a person can’t refuse.”

“Does that mean you accept my offer?”

“Yes.” Meredith smiled and held her hand out. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Mrs. Hanson.”

“Helen, please.” Helen shook her hand, looking delighted. “I’m so glad to have you on board, Meredith. Now, you’ll be working under my brother-in-law, David Hanson, in the PR department, but I’d like you to focus special attention on the radio division that’s now being run by my late husband’s son, Evan Hanson.”

Whoa! This was not the plan.

“I’m sorry, did you say Evan Hanson?” Meredith asked, feeling as though Helen had just punched her in the stomach.

Helen nodded absently, taking a narrow silver pen out of her drawer. “Mmm-hmm. My middle stepson, Evan.”