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“Yeah, but sometimes good isn’t good enough.” The current operations cost a fortune. Her plans to expand would take her expenses over the edge. Chasing donations wasn’t her shtick. Tawny was a good organizer and cheerleader, but she hadn’t shown any prowess for prying dollars out of prospective donors, either. And that wasn’t why she had been hired. Dana had helped provide part-time volunteers for fund-raising, but it was time to have a full-time person on staff solely dedicated to fund-raising. An added expense to the profit and loss statement. She sighed.
Tawny held up her hand. “More news.”
“We’re still on the bad stuff, right?”
Her assistant nodded. “But not as bad. It’s a tweak and could work out to be better. I think—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, get on with it.” Belinda rubbed her forehead and waited for the next drop of the hammer.
“Ed Santiago, your contractor, called a few minutes ago. Actually, his wife. Ed is on bed rest. Angina.”
“Oh, no. Should he be home? He shouldn’t mess around with heart issues.”
“He’s got to follow up with his doctor. For now, he’s home and they’ve adjusted his pressure meds.”
“I’m glad that it wasn’t worse.” Belinda didn’t want to think of the dire possibilities.
“Not to worry, though. He’s sending his son Jesse to finish managing the renovations.”
Belinda waved off the additional news. “I’m going to send him flowers.”
Tawny nodded. “I pulled up a couple arrangements on my computer. Pick the one you like and I’ll have the order there by tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” Belinda hated to hear about the nosedive Ed’s health had taken. The man wasn’t exactly at the youthful end of the age spectrum, but he was active and a conscientious worker. She couldn’t help but feel uneasy with his unexpected absence. Well, she felt more guilt than unease because the clock on the project ticked loudly.
“Jesse will be arriving soon to meet you and go over the remainder of the schedule.”
“I don’t want this...Jesse. I’ve never met him. There’s no way that he can replace Ed’s expertise. There’s no time for someone new to come in and putz around.”
“This isn’t just a regular person. It’s Jesse Santiago.”
Belinda shrugged and shook her head. “And?”
“Football star.”
“I don’t need a quarterback here.”
“No. I mean soccer. He’s a soccer superstar, really.”
“Calm down with the giddy smile. We don’t need a sports jock.” Belinda’s fingers had managed to clear the red nail polish completely off two fingernails.
Tawny rolled her eyes. “That term is so ’80s. Because I’ve heard of Jesse and his mad skills, I did research.” She placed a one-page printout on the desk that had a small photo image in the right corner of the page. With her blue-painted nail, she slid a finger over the information.
“A résumé?” Belinda didn’t bother picking up the paper. She really wasn’t interested in whatever the internet had captured, unless he had a mug shot or arrest record. Tawny’s nail-tapping for her attention finally motivated her to act interested. She picked up the page and scanned the details.
Jesse Santiago was a former professional soccer player for Madrid’s El Sol team. All the teams he’d played for, wins, athletic accolades, modeling contracts and other endorsements took up most of the page. Being independently wealthy at twenty-nine years old, he had accomplished a lot in his short life. But though everything in his current and future life appeared to be looking rosy, he’d walked away from his career. Who does that? That tidbit of mystery was added to the list of why Jesse wouldn’t be a suitable substitute for his father.
“This doesn’t change my mind. Nothing on this page makes me believe he can finish the job.” Irritation tightened Belinda’s shoulders, heightening her tension. “This is too much of a big deal and an important part of the rollout to rely on the unknown, even if it’s Ed’s wish to send his soccer-playing son as a replacement. And did you really read this? Why is he home anyway?” Belinda pushed the paper back to Tawny. “He worked on a few charities. In addition to being a real pro with the soccer ball, he had set a few records with female groupies and celebrities. I’m surprised he had energy to play the game.” A man with the sexual stamina of a bull wasn’t in her list of requirements. Not even if he had the lean, angular pretty-boy face that could melt away her inhibitions. And what was up with the sensual cast of his lips? Was that a pout, or the natural plump and curve of his mouth? Who knew soccer players were so hot? “This is so not the right man for this job. I need a man with real skills, not a professional panty chaser.”
“You are harsh.” Tawny laughed hard. Even Belinda’s dark, scolding gaze didn’t subdue her assistant’s amusement. “Based on that photo, he might have just cause to earn that label, though.” Tawny pretended to kiss the photo. “Should’ve seen the pics of him without his shirt. In one magazine spread, he only held a towel in place between his legs. Hello!”
“I didn’t pay attention to the picture.” Liar. “And I don’t plan to waste time drooling at a computer screen.” Maybe later. It still wouldn’t change her mind about what she thought of his skills. “He could have one eye in the middle of his forehead, for all I care. I need someone to make that happen on time.” She pointed at the wall, where various parts of the project still had to be completed. “I need a project manager on-site, someone who can get his team moving and roll up his sleeves, when and if necessary. This is all I care about.”
“Ed won’t have led you wrong. I’m not the only one who believes in you and what you’re doing. You will have a place that is special and a haven for a lot of kids and teenagers. I’m crazy confident that you will.”
Belinda heard Tawny’s loyalty in her voice. As the project passed each milestone, that enthusiasm and co-ownership of the dream were more than welcomed. She needed to stop calling it a dream. The goal was on the verge of reality. The final stage. She felt through every cell of her body duty-bound to protect her project. As the bad news tumbled out, one item after the other, not even Jesse Santiago’s unplanned substitution could put an exclamation point on the sucky morning. By September, Labor Day, the facility would be, should be, opening its full-service programs.
Belinda continued voicing her reservations. “You do realize this write-up of Mr. Sexpot doesn’t explain why he’s here in upstate New York and why he’s now working on his daddy’s business.”
Tawny shrugged. “He suffered a brutal injury while playing. Now it’s too late to do any further digging on the matter. He’ll be here soon.”
“Okay, Grim Reaper. You said good news. It better be darn good.”
“Now I’m feeling pressure to appease your grumpiness,” Tawny groused, before a wide grin spread across her face.
“Spill. I’m going to need a mimosa instead of this coffee in a hot second.” Reluctantly Belinda felt drawn to Tawny’s suddenly upbeat attitude.
“Miss Grace is coming over.”
“When?” Her smile fumbled and disappeared. Her grandmother didn’t do visits.
“This morning.”
“And you’re only telling me now.” Belinda fixed her clothes, leveling a glare at Tawny.
Tawny waved away her protests. “She needs to talk to you.”
“I don’t have time for my grandmother.”
“You never do. If you don’t call her by nine o’clock...” Tawny looked at her watch. “Yikes. It’s nine thirty. Anyway, if you don’t call, then you don’t get to find out what she wants before she visits.”
“Not today. Not in the mood for my grandmother and her commands. And you can stop acting as if you’re the president of her fan club.”
Tawny remained silent. Wisely.
“Any other news?” Belinda hated to ask.
“I bought a box of donuts.”
“That you didn’t bring with the coffee.” Belinda patted her belly. “Anyway, after that double helping of Chinese food last night, I’m on a diet, at least for the day. Let me get to work since my office will have folks in and out all morning. Only one of them, hopefully my new client, is someone I really want to talk to.”
As Tawny left her office and disappeared from view, Belinda yelled, “I’ll take one instead of two donuts, please.”
“More coffee, too?” Tawny shouted back.
“Yeah. Bring it on.” Belinda shifted her mind to pressing matters. She turned on her computer and waited for it to power up. After a series of keystrokes, she pulled up the list of remaining donors. One donor leaving did hurt. Two would cause her to make harsh cuts before the operation manager could start. Contracts with the therapists would be terminated. Training of the horses would be curtailed. And the loss of three donors would cripple her in a matter of months. Who was she kidding? The downfall would happen within weeks. The Dreamweaver Riding Program, her heart and soul, could not be an epic fail. It was the only way she knew how to say sorry.
Chapter 2
“Boss, I just saw Miss Grace park her car.” Tawny set down the coffee and donut in front of Belinda and made a quick backtrack to the entrance door.
Belinda slid the plate with the donut off to the side. The cup of coffee could remain. She might need something to keep her hands busy through her grandmother’s visit.
She desperately tried to smooth back the loose hair that hung wildly around her face. After her morning ride on her horse in the June humidity, Belinda knew her ponytail holder couldn’t maintain control over her hair. Normally, her disheveled appearance didn’t bother her. She wasn’t one to fuss over wardrobe and makeup. After all, this wasn’t an office job. But the next few minutes of her life with her stiff and starched grandmother would cause enough anxiety that she’d wished she dragged out a skirt suit from the deep recess of her closet, dug through the underwear drawer for a pair of panty hose and found a tube of lipstick to quickly sweep over her mouth.
Instead, she groaned after quickly surveying her clothing. It was her standard uniform of black T-shirt and black jeans, kind of a night and day contrast to whatever Grace usually wore. The old lady had to have been off her game at one time in her life. At almost eighty years old and still getting front-page coverage on how fabulous she looked, her grandmother was a fashion icon. Deservedly so, but still.
Belinda wiggled her toes. As a rule, when she came to the office, she stepped out of her boots and left them at the entrance door. The treks back and forth, from the office-barn to the stables, the torn-up dirt around the renovated areas near the riding ring, and general outdoor work pushed the necessity for the rule. Not only did it save the brand-new Berber carpet, it cut down on the strong odors of horse urine, manure, and tack that combined with the hay that would be tracked into the office. Usually, her old pair of sneakers was in the office for her to slip on. Of course, today would be the day that she couldn’t find them.
Meanwhile, Tawny, who didn’t have many dealings with the stable, could balance herself while walking around the office in her skinny, skyscraper-high heels and flaunting the latest fashion trends. She belonged in New York City, not in the small city of Midway in upstate New York, working in a barn with horses as their closest neighbors.
“Belinda, are you here? It’s Grace.” Her grandmother’s distinctive elocution shot her musings to pieces.
“Good morning, grandma...er...Grace.” Belinda rose and headed around the desk, but her grandmother had already marched across the room. That was a good thing. She could keep her shoeless feet a secret for a little while longer.
Her grandmother got everyone in the family to call her “Grace” whenever the subject matter concerned Meadows Media. In the case of Dana, she not only called their grandmother Grace, but also boss. Their special bond had blossomed over several years as Dana worked her way up the ladder, culminating in her leading the company. A strategic move that had been met with resistance by business experts, not to mention a few family members, because of Dana’s young age. Belinda’s take on the issue remained in full protective support for her cousin, as long as Grace had Dana’s full buy-in.
“How are you?” Belinda resumed her seat in the safe zone, behind the desk.
“Good as can be. Still busy even though I’m out in the pastures.”
The image of her grandmother whiling away time in a field couldn’t have been further from the truth. Grace was still making business deals and her social calendar hadn’t shrunk. Grandpa Henry had spilled the latest at the last family dinner.
Belinda probed, “Are you still heading to the office every day? You should enjoy retirement. Take a trip. See the world from beyond corporate offices.” She’d consider talking her grandmother into a worldwide trip a major coup. Every chance she got, she pushed the idea.
“Is that what your cousin complains to you about?”
“No.” Now Dana was going to kill her for putting Grace on alert. It had taken a while for the former CEO of the family business to step down. Dana had shared how much she looked forward to flexing her leadership muscle without Grace’s shadow. Even the staff was coming around to relying on Dana without the constant presence of Grace. The cousins had joked that the complete separation might require Grandpa Henry to kidnap his wife and keep her off the grid for several months.
Grace looked around the office. Then her gaze hovered and settled on the wall behind Belinda. She remained silent. But her gaze shifted over the entire visual presentation of the riding program’s trajectory. Though Grace’s expression remained stoic, Belinda sensed her grandmother’s keen interest.
“Renovations are underway. We still have major work to be done. I’m sure that we’ll be ready on opening day.” Grace’s quiet regard unnerved Belinda.
“Really? That’s good news. Who are you using?” Her grandmother slowly slid her glance away from the wall to Belinda. “I did take note that you didn’t ask for my help after I sent Santiago to you.”
“I used Ed. I felt good with your referral since you’ve used him on several projects. That was enough of a recommendation.”
“He’s dependable. Not terribly creative, though, when it came to designing the trellis frames in the garden.” She sighed with such regal pretension that Belinda wanted to snort. “But his work is solid and above par. I wouldn’t want anyone else.”
Belinda nodded. Now wasn’t the time to mention the switch from Ed to Jesse. She had her own misgivings. There was no need to hear her grandmother pile on with her criticisms. No matter what Grace would say, all Belinda would hear was that she wasn’t good enough. Out of the three cousins, she was the “rock,” per Grace’s compliment and with her mother’s implicit agreement. Belinda was the solid base to provide support, but lacked Dana’s nimble, razor-sharp leadership skills. She’d accepted the evaluation, partially relieved that she didn’t have what it took to lead anything, including Meadows Media. As a result, she had remained uninspired to prove her grandmother or mother wrong. Early discussions about starting this business hadn’t been met with enthusiastic cheers outside of her cousins, Dana and Fiona.
“Let’s go for a walk.” Her grandmother stood, smoothing her dress and waiting for her to move.
“Where are we going?” Belinda made a mental promise to kill Tawny if she conveniently had forgotten to tell her about this part of Grace’s plan.
“Show me the work that’s been done.” Grace’s attention shifted back to the wall in her office where the full layout and status of the project were mapped out. “I want to see what you’ve been up to.”
Tawny slid into view. Her attempt to nab Grace’s focus was as loud as her blue dress with white polka dots.
“Tawny, my dear, hope all is well with you. You’re looking quite...modern.”
Belinda considered Tawny’s mission accomplished. Her assistant looked beyond giddy over Grace’s remark. If she wasn’t mistaken, Belinda thought that she saw the young woman dip into a quick curtsy. As expected, Grace, her nose in the air, soaked in the adulation as she passed Tawny.
Bowing down to Grace had never been Belinda’s style. That was not to say that her grandmother didn’t intimidate the heck out of her. Grace and Grandpa Henry were her substitute parents when hers were too busy pursuing careers and she’d been like a satellite office they’d occasionally visit. That’s why, despite Grace’s hard-nosed demeanor, Belinda had a soft spot for her grandmother.
Today, however, she’d rather spend the morning tweaking her business plan and schmoozing with potential clients, not escorting Grace on a random tour of the area with the uneasy feeling that there was more to her visit than she’d let on so far. Her grandmother’s stern profile provided no hints, even after she stared at Belinda’s mismatched socks before she could stuff her feet into the boots.
Belinda led Grace to the golf cart that she drove to get around the property quickly. “Hold on,” she said. It was an unnecessary warning, since her grandmother had death grips on her arm and the side of the golf cart. She drove slowly down the road that led from the barn to the larger area dedicated to the riding rings and stable.
“Have you ever considered selling off some of the property?”
“No!” Belinda uttered a shaky, apologetic laugh and repeated the negative in a softened tone.
“It’s not an outrageous question.”
They’d stopped at the stable. Belinda rounded the cart to assist Grace.
“I’m asking because you have ambitions that don’t match your pocket.” Grace stopped short at the large wooden doors that led into the stables. Her nose twitched as the signature ammonia smell of horse and hay hit them.
Through these doors was magic, the place that brought Belinda peace and joy. She headed over to the stall that was home to her American quarter horse. From the start, Lucky Ducky, her own personal mount, had held a special place in her heart. When she was first looking for horses for the program, her network of business owners with similar equine-therapy services advised her that the retired show horse was up for sale. While she’d need therapy horses for now, she wanted her own horse. It was this gelding’s gentle nature and agility that convinced her that she was on the right path with her decision to acquire a member of this breed.
Grace joined her at Lucky Ducky’s stall. “Are you a bit over your head with this monster-size project?”
“I can manage. I’ve been managing.” Belinda hoped that she’d retained a knack for reading her grandmother’s trains of thought. Although, sometimes, she wasn’t sure that she ever had the ability and only had mastered feeling defensive.
From her pocket, Grace withdrew sugar cubes, which she fed to the grateful horse. Despite her grandmother’s reaction to the stable, she was a wet noodle around the chestnut gelding. Belinda wished she could take a secret photo of her grandmother making kissing noises. Lucky Ducky certainly loved Grace’s attention. His head bumped against her hand to make her continue scratching his muzzle.
“Why are we here...in the barn?” Belinda walked over to a new horse that she’d bought two weeks ago. She’d rather have waited on buying another horse, but, by acquiring him, she had rescued a pet that the owner could no longer afford to keep. She grabbed a brush and stroked Black Pearl’s powerful side with it. His head bobbed as he pranced in place.
“We needed to talk. And since you don’t have a proper office...” Grace pointedly looked over at her. “We must stand out here for privacy.”
No matter how much Grace worked Belinda’s nerves, being disrespectful was never an option. “No, we don’t have to, Grandma. Let’s go up to the house. I have tea.”
“Okay, for the house. No, on the tea.”
“It’s not the regular supermarket tea.” Belinda offered Grace a hint of a smile. “Herbal. Rooibos from South Africa.”
Grace clapped her hands. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.” She bid farewell to Lucky Ducky with an extra sugar cube and accompanied Belinda out of the stable.
Her grandmother resumed her death grip as they rode the golf cart eastward across the property.
On a small hill, the farmhouse stood out, its exterior painted in sunshine yellow accented with winter-white shutters. The morning sunrise was an amazing sight that climbed above the mountains in the distance.
Belinda gazed on her little home with pride. Well, it wasn’t so little, with five bedrooms ranging from a closet-size one to the master suite. Though many of the rooms were unused, here was the house for her future. One day, she wanted it full of children and a loving husband.
Given her lack of a social life, however, said loving husband would have to magically fall from the sky in front of her like an airdrop package.
“Have a seat. I’ll bring it to you.” Belinda motioned toward the living area before walking into the kitchen.
“No need to wait on me. I’ll follow you to your kitchen.”
Belinda hoped that the kitchen wasn’t a mess. The bad part about living alone was that any messiness could only be blamed on her. She cringed as she watched her grandmother swing her survey around the room before she took a seat at the four-seater table.
“You haven’t been to visit, much less sit in my kitchen, in a while. I’m nervous.” Belinda couldn’t deal with waiting for Grace to reveal the reason for her impromptu visit. There was no way that this was a casual visit.
“I’ve been remiss with keeping up with my grandchildren. Turning over Meadows Media to Dana was a bigger deal than I thought. It made me think about all of you. Our legacy as a family.”
“Dana’s doing fine, right?”
“Oh, yes. Dana was born for that job.”
“Proud of her.” Belinda always knew that her cousin was the only one to step into Grace’s shoes. Her mother and aunts, Grace’s daughters, grumbled a bit, but no one could deny that Dana had the brains and passion to take up the heavy responsibility.
“We all are. Meadows Media should always remain in the family.”
Belinda carefully set down the steaming cup of tea. “I’m not coming to work for Meadows Media.” For once, she wasn’t backing down. Not even to look away from Grace’s deep-set eyes.
“Not even for Dana?”
“Did she ask for me?” Belinda wasn’t biting, though the mention of her cousin needing her gave her pause.
“You know your cousin. She’d never ask for help. She’s too afraid that it would reflect on her. However, since stepping back from it all, I have a good view from the sidelines. What I see, in my overall vision, is for all of you cousins stepping up and taking your rightful places in the company. Making it bigger and better. Besides, you get along with each other. That’s half the battle.”
“What if the cousins aren’t interested?”
“Why wouldn’t you be? I built this company to hand down, not to sell out. Not that my three daughters ever stepped up to the plate.” Grace sniffed. The woman was a born queen and didn’t need a title to go with her mostly formidable demeanor. The one subject that could tighten that mouth and send the lines in her forehead into deeper grooves was her daughters—their mothers.
Away from the Meadows family home estate, away from the Meadows Media headquarters, Belinda had never heard Grace open up with such a sad, longing commentary. Took a visit, while sitting at her dining table, for the intimate disclosure. Anytime Grace’s tale was told in front of an audience, the rags to riches story had all the polish and shiny glint of a spin doctor’s touch. Not that her accomplishments were make-believe. However, Grace believed that imperfections of any sort belonged behind the family wall of privacy and loyalty. It was the one trait that was supported by every family member as a united front.
“Look, Belinda, the time is right. Dana is on the verge of taking the company to new heights. Kent is on board. Hopefully, they’ll be married soon. You’re turning thirty-one this year. I couldn’t be happier with all that you’ve done.”