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He couldn’t stand by and let the business his father had built go down the drain, but he couldn’t just walk in and take the business away from Hope either. Not when he knew his father had wanted her to have it. Chase had no real interest in it, save keeping it afloat, but it was Hope’s life.
He had to find a way to turn things around, to ensure the livelihood for all of them continued. And he had to do it in a way that would’ve been okay with his father, which meant not getting rid of Hope. Realizing that, he swore roundly and grabbed for a towel. If this wasn’t an impossible task, he didn’t know what was.
“SO YOU GET TO SPEND weeks and weeks in the jungles, looking for cures for stuff like cancer and arthritis? And you don’t have to take a bath except when you want to and you get to sleep in a tent and cook on a camp fire every single night?” Joey asked Chase incredulously.
Chase chuckled. “That about sums it up, yeah, but it’s not nearly as glamorous as it sounds.”
The dry note in her stepson’s voice completely escaped her son, who was thrilled by Chase’s adventures. “Wow,” Joey continued, shaking his head admiringly. “I wish my mom would let me do stuff like that, but right now she won’t even let me go camping in New Mexico.”
Chase slanted Hope a measuring look. “You don’t approve of the great outdoors?”
It wasn’t that, although Chase was right to assume she wouldn’t want her son to ever have the kind of nomadic, no-ties life Chase reveled in. As far as she knew, Chase had never lacked in female companions, but he had never been serious about any woman except Lucy, and their brief engagement had ended almost as quickly and mysteriously as it had begun, years before. “Joey has asthma. He’s allergic to many of the tree and plant pollens. That’s why he can’t go camping.” A doctor himself, Chase should understand the risks.
Joey scowled. “If Dad were still here, he’d let me go.”
Unfortunately, Hope knew that was true. Edmond had been optimistic to a fault, in that regard. And because of that they’d had to continually deal with the consequences. “Joey—”
His pleasure in the meal with his half brother diminished, Joey said abruptly, “May I be excused, please?”
Realizing this was no time to get into a prolonged argument, Hope nodded her permission. “Be sure you finish your homework before you watch any television.”
“I will.” Joey put his napkin down next to his plate, then shoulders hunched in silent misery, marched off.
Embarrassed, Hope turned back to Chase. Suddenly the air between them was charged with electricity and none of it had to do with the emotional departure of her son. “Would you care for more coffee or dessert?” She was aware her voice and manners were stiff and mannequinlike, but was unable to do anything about it. She feared if she relaxed, even a tad, Chase would see through her flimsy defenses and realize how uneasy and self-conscious she felt, being there alone with him, especially now that she was single again.
He had eaten everything Carmelita put before him, as if he’d been starved for months. And she supposed where he had been, there had been a lack of elegant cuisine.
“I’ll pass on the seconds. Thanks. I do need to speak to you—privately.”
She had been expecting this. “Very well,” she said. She led the way to the heavy paneled library. Once inside, she shut the double oak doors firmly behind them and Chase got straight to the point.
“I’m concerned about Barrister’s.”
Hope felt her spine stiffen. As disinterested as Chase had always been in the store, she hadn’t expected this. Unable to keep the defensive note out of her voice, she retorted, “So am I.”
Chase smoothed his blond hair, then let his palm rest idly on the back of his neck.
Just shampooed, the sun-streaked strands gleamed like gold in the soft inside light, appearing very touchable and distracting in their sexy disarray. And he smelled just as fresh and male.
“Look, Hope,” he began rather gruffly, as he passed her in a wake of rich, woodsy after-shave, “I doubt I can say this without offending you—”
From the reluctant look on his face, she doubted it too. “Just get on with it,” she advised tensely, expecting the worst.
He dropped his hand and leaned against the marble fireplace. “All right.” More comfortable now, he met her gaze and continued flatly, “Popular opinion is you’re mismanaging Barrister’s.”
Hope hung on to her escalating temper with all her might. “Then popular opinion is wrong,” she corrected, just as bluntly.
His fair brow lifted slightly at her tone. “I wish I could believe that,” he said tersely. Then in a softer, more resigned tone, he added, “Try to understand. This isn’t personal, but I can’t let my father’s work end in Chapter Eleven.”
As the threat of what he was saying became real, Hope’s shock abated. “I’m well aware of what happened to Frost Brothers,” she said icily. She got up and moved around the room restlessly. Then she whirled to face Chase, the awkward silence doing nothing to diffuse her anger. “You can rest assured I won’t let Barrister’s end in bankruptcy.” The business meant too much to her. Apart from Joey, it was her whole life.
He crossed his arms at his waist and looked at her frankly. He wasn’t about to give in to every whim. Unlike Edmond, he didn’t care if she was displeased or not. “Neither will I,” he said flatly.
Aware her hands were shaking, she shoved them into the pockets of her skirt. Although she knew him to be a formidable opponent, she had never expected this from Chase, and it threw her. “What do you mean?” With effort, she kept her voice harsh, exacting.
His hazel eyes darkened in a similar show of emotion. “I inherited thirty percent of the stock, Hope. My mother owns ten percent of it.”
Her pulse thudded faster. “Are you asking me to buy your shares?” She faced him in disbelief, disappointment stabbing at her like a knife.
“No.” He shook his head grimly. “I’m asking you to step down as president, effective immediately, and let the board of directors appoint someone else to run it.”
Hope stared at him, feeling both shocked and annoyed at his matter-of-fact tone. Once the conversation had turned to the store, she had braced herself for complaints from Chase about the lack of profits in the past two quarters, but she had never expected this. Knowing Chase and Rosemary Barrister, perhaps she should have expected it. Neither had ever liked her. Neither had been happy when Edmond left forty-eight percent of the stock to her and recommended she replace him as president. But until now, neither had fought her, either. Knowing how rich people liked to hold onto what they had, as well as what they didn’t, she supposed she should have seen this coming.
“Your father wanted me to run the store, Chase,” she pointed out reasonably. “He spent ten years grooming me to do just that.”
Again, Chase managed to look torn. “I know how hard you’ve worked,” he soothed. “I’m sorry it hasn’t worked out.”
Silence fell between them once more and she studied him relentlessly. As hard as it was for her to admit, Hope saw this wasn’t revenge on his part. He wasn’t trying to hurt her, just to salvage what was left of the business. What he didn’t know was that she was already one step ahead of him, and had been for several months.
“I don’t agree that it hasn’t worked out,” she countered practically. “But I do share your concern. That’s why I’ve called a meeting with the buyers tomorrow morning at nine sharp, to outline some immediate changes that will turn business around. You’re welcome to sit in if you like.”
His mouth twisted unhappily. “One meeting with the buyers isn’t going to change anything, Hope.”
He was underestimating her. In a crisp businesslike tone, she repeated firmly, “The meeting’s at nine sharp, Chase. I assume I’ll see you there?”
Realizing evidently he owed her at least that much, he held her gaze a long moment, looking into her eyes until she flushed and had to fight herself not to back away. Then he nodded his agreement circumspectly.
She hadn’t changed his mind, but what the hell, he thought, he’d give her one more day. For his dad’s sake and for Joey’s. But then he would have to lower the ax. Like it or not, he had no choice. “I’ll be there,” he promised inexorably, letting none of his emotions show. “You can count on it.”
Chapter Two
Knowing she had a battle in front of her, Hope walked into the conference room with her head held high. She took her place at the head of the table and motioned for everyone else in the room to sit. Among the buyers was Chase Barrister. In a dark blue suit and tie, he looked very somber and businesslike. He’d also had a haircut, and the dark ash-blond layers were arranged in a neat, preppy style. Used to seeing him more casually dressed, his blond hair rumpled, his posture defiantly casual and laid-back, Hope was disconcerted by his formal attire and exacting attitude. For the first time, he looked a lot like Edmond—powerful, observant, demanding. And though Chase had always possessed Edmond’s wit, intelligence and consummate people-sense, he had never shown the slightest inclination to indulge her the way Edmond had. Realizing that, Hope felt her nerves jangle. And she wasn’t the only one on edge.
She could see that the seasoned staff was wondering at Chase’s presence, too. Although he had worked at the store, summers, while in college, he had not expressed any interest since. He never attended board meetings, never mind Hope’s weekly conferences with the staff. Deciding the only way to get through this was to plunge right in, she said, “You’re all aware of the lack of recent profits. To survive, Barrister’s is going to have to change. We can no longer cater strictly to the socialites. We’re going to have to try to capture some of the yuppie market, too.”
“You’re not serious, are you?” Steve Supack asked, his look both astonished and grim. Informal spokesperson for group, Steve was in his mid-forties. He had been with the the company for over twenty years, working his way up steadily from clerk to head buyer for menswear. Although he did not have a college degree, his sense of style and ability to please even the rudest, most discriminating customer had proved invaluable. Edmond had trusted him implicitly.
“I never kid about anything this important,” Hope said, meeting Steve’s level gaze. She knew they were all thinking that if the prices and quality of the merchandise went down, so would the size of their sales commissions. She had also known for some time that this had to be done and that it was going to be an uphill battle. Change was never easy, even when it was necessary. She would face criticism from every source—clients, rival businesspeople, and her own employees. But it was the only way she knew to save what had been her late husband’s life work, and preserve her young son’s inheritance. So persevere she must, no matter how formidable the odds or how disbelieving her employees.
“The changes will be effective immediately. We are going to cater to a broader range of clients, carry fewer high-ticket items, do away with all in-store displays of whimsical gifts, and become a more mainstream department store.”
She glanced at the sea of apprehensive faces, purposefully avoiding Chase’s steady, intent gaze. This was hard enough without worrying about what he thought of her ability to run the business, too. She would deal with him later, only when she absolutely had to. Right now, she was concerned about her employees.
She understood and shared the fear of the thirty buyers in front of her. If her plan didn’t work, they would doubtless join the stream of other elitist family-owned department stores that had filed for bankruptcy in recent years. But she also understood what they didn’t, and what she hoped Chase would soon, that this was the only chance they had to survive. “We’ll begin with the Houston Galleria store. If the changes test successfully here, we will change all the other Barrister’s around the country in the fall.”
“What do the Board of Directors have to say about this?” a feminine voice from the back challenged openly.
Hope looked up and her heart sank as she focused on the thin blond socialite. It was Rosemary Barrister, Edmond’s first wife! When had she walked in?
Chase turned at the sound of his mother’s voice. Hope noted, with something akin to satisfaction and surprise, that he didn’t look any happier to see his jet-setting mother than she felt. Holding her voice steady, despite the hatred and resentment she felt emanating from the other woman, Hope answered firmly, “The Board has already approved my plan.”
Rosemary shook her head. “You’re going to ruin the reputation of this store.”
Everyone whispered, apparently agreeing with Rosemary.
Hope struggled to control the meeting. “There won’t be a Barrister’s if we don’t make the changes necessary to survive in today’s more competitive marketplace.”
Apparently she succeeded in getting across just how desperate their situation was, for the staff fell silent. Feeling drained, and fearing another rude outburst from the volatile Rosemary, Hope dismissed the group of buyers, adding, “I’ll expect to see your revised stock orders on my desk one week from today.”
The mood somber, everyone filed out. Some, like Steve Supack, who had known the family for years, paused to say hello to Rosemary. Chase got up and walked to the window overlooking West-heimer.
Wishing to avoid a run-in with Rosemary, Hope began stuffing papers into her briefcase. To no avail. The minute the conference room had cleared out, a belligerent Rosemary shut the heavy oak doors and faced Hope and Chase. “I’ll see you in hell before I let you destroy Barrister’s!” she warned.
“Mother,” Chase said curtly, looking as aggrieved as Hope felt.
“I told you I’d handle this.”
“Look at her!” Rosemary said. “Barrister’s is being ruined. And she still looks like she has the world by the tail!”
Chase looked at Hope. His mother was right about that. Hope did look fantastic, even under fire. But then she always had. That had been part of the problem. Even at a very young, naive nineteen she had possessed a strikingly sensual beauty that had doubtless haunted every man who’d ever come in contact with her. She had wide, vulnerable blue eyes, a generous mouth, bee-stung lips, and pearly white teeth. Those features along with the silky thickness of her dark hair and fair skin never failed to command a second, and third look from men and women alike. And though Chase had tried to remain unaffected, he had noticed. He had always noticed, even to his considerable guilt, when his father was alive.
It didn’t help matters to notice that in the years since Joey’s birth, her slim figure had filled out. Now, her curves were more lush and womanly beneath her white wool dress and red blazer.
If they’d met under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have bothered to hide how he felt, but would have pursued her with everything he had, not stopping until she was his. But that hadn’t happened. He’d met her as his father’s wife and he still had to try to think of her that way, out of respect. To do otherwise would be wrong.
Oblivious to his traitorous thoughts, Hope turned to his mother and said in a soothing tone, “I’m sorry you’re upset, Rosemary. Believe me, this pains me as much as it does you.”
“I doubt that,” Rosemary said, making no effort to hide the malevolence in her voice.
Chase saw a flash of hurt, then anger, in Hope’s eyes. Knowing his mother’s formidable temper, and fearing this would turn into an out and out brawl if left unchecked, Chase touched his mother’s arm in a calming gesture. He may not have wanted her here, but now that she was, he would have to deal with her, too. “Mother, I’d like to speak to Hope alone.”
Rosemary hesitated, then nodded stiffly. “Shall I wait for you outside?”
“Please.”
He waited until his mother had departed, then aware they hadn’t much time, turned to Hope and got straight to the point. “I agree with Steve Supack and my mother. Changing the image of the store may do more harm than good, at this point.”
Striding back to her briefcase, Hope clicked it open, pulled out a sheaf of papers and handed it to him. “Those are the demographics on our latest sales figures and the market projections for the rest of the year, as well as the next decade. I think, Chase, if you study them you’ll see I am well-advised to make the changes I’ve outlined.”
Surprised by her professionalism and her calm in the light of so much tension, Chase hooked a booted foot beneath the lower rung of a wheeled conference chair and pulled it out. He sank into it. He was aware of her standing behind him, so closely he could hear her soft, steady breaths and inhale the sophisticated sexy scent of her perfume. He tried to glance through the papers.
Unfortunately, with Hope so close, it was all but impossible for him to concentrate. Briefly he considered asking her to wait outside while he read, then promptly discarded that idea. If he did so, Rosemary would wonder why, and he didn’t need his mother’s prurient curiosity. Finally, with a great deal of effort, he managed to scan the reports, he saw she’d done a thorough, accurate job. Market projections were just that, however, projections. His mind on business once again, he frowned. “It’s still a risk.” And more to the point, he wasn’t sure hers was a course his father would ever have condoned.
“A risk I’m willing to take,” she pointed out calmly.
“Suppose I’m not?”
“It isn’t up to you,” she pointed out levelly. As much as he searched he could find no bitterness or resentment in her eyes, just a quiet practicality that was almost as unnerving as her beauty.
Realizing he was thinking of her as a desirable woman again, one he had no right to yearn for or to know more intimately, Chase pushed the thoughts away. He had to think about business, nothing more. If he didn’t, his feelings of guilt and disloyalty would eat him alive.
Chase turned his gaze back to the papers with a grimace of concentration. He knew that Hope held the upper hand in terms of stock; for the moment anyway. She had the controlling interest. If the Board of Directors was behind her, she had the power to do anything she wanted.
Besides, maybe Hope was right. She had been here, working diligently for the past ten years. Her commitment to Barrister’s granted her this chance to try to save it her way. “All right,” he conceded finally, feeling in his gut he was doing the only decent thing. “I’ll make no move to stop you from executing your plans.”
Hope didn’t so much as blink. She faced him quietly. “What about Rosemary?”
Hope was clearly worried about his mother, and she had every right to be. “I’ll see she gives you a clear path, too. For a short time,” he specified firmly.
Hope frowned and her blue eyes grew troubled. “How short a time?”
Chase did some rapid calculations. “Three months ought to be enough to turn it around.” If your plan is going to work, he added mentally.
She heaved a sigh of unmasked exasperation. “I’ll need at least six months, Chase, with no interference from either of you.”
He shook his head. “Three is all I’m offering, Hope. Take it or leave it.”
Silence fell between them. “I’ll take it,” she retorted glumly. He started to return the papers, but she shook her head and waved her hand, indicating she didn’t want them. “Your mother might want to see those. Perhaps they’ll reassure her.”
Chase doubted that. Rosemary’s resentment of Hope was deep and unrelenting; he suspected it always would be. But he said nothing as Hope snapped the locks on either side of her briefcase handle.
“Now that this is settled, I presume you’ll be leaving for Costa Rica?”
He only wished it were that easy. “Not exactly. I’m short of funds. The lack of profits caught us unaware. I loaned money to my mother to pay the rent on her villa in Monte Carlo. So, until I can scrounge up more money for my research, I’ll be staying in Houston, keeping tabs on what’s going on here personally.”
Staying on, she thought. If he did that, they’d be seeing each other almost twenty-four hours a day, both at work and at home. They’d take meals together. Where she may have wanted to be closer to Chase for Edmond’s sake and for the reunification of the Barrister family, she had never wanted this. Especially not when she knew how attracted she was to him, that she had only to look at him or be near to him to feel a resurgence of desire. And yet, because he was Edmond’s son and had once lived there, too, she could hardly tell him to go.
Feeling like she’d sustained a strong blow to the chest, Hope struggled to catch her breath and keep her voice noncommittal and even. “How long?”
Looking totally unaffected by her reluctance to have him underfoot, Chase shrugged. “Until I get enough to underwrite another expedition.”
That could take weeks, even months, Hope knew. Weeks of unbearable tension, of dealing with him, and of seeing him at all hours of the day and night, maybe even in his pajamas! If he wore pajamas. Something told her he didn’t. What was she going to do? Simultaneously desperate to get him out from underfoot, and feeling she owed him whatever financial help she could spare, because of Edmond, she offered to help speed him on his way. “Look, I don’t have a lot of ready cash available to me either right now, but if your returning to Costa Rica is a matter of a simple plane fare and a few months provisions, a guide, I could—”
“Why would you want to do that for me?” he cut in abruptly, regarding her suspiciously. He knew, she felt, that she very much wanted to get rid of him A.S.A.P.
“Because you’re Edmond’s son.” Because I find you distracting and attractive and it’s killing me inside because even though I’m single now it makes me feel disloyal to Edmond. Because I know you think the worst of me, that I married Edmond for his money when in reality money never had anything to do with my feelings for your father. But knowing she’d never convince anyone of that, never mind Chase, she decided to concentrate on the aspects of their relationship they could discuss.
“So?” he challenged mildly. “I’m Edmond’s son? I’m not yours.”
How well she knew that. Struggling for equilibrium, Hope said, “You’re family, Chase.” Neither of us might have chosen it, but there it is. I have to do what Edmond would have wanted. And beyond that, for reasons she couldn’t really define, she wanted to help Chase achieve his goals and be happy. After all, their family difficulties aside, he was a kind, selfless person, in ways that she truly admired. It felt right somehow that she help him. “You’re family,” she repeated.
He shook his head in mute disagreement, denying it with all he was worth. “That bond ended when my father died.”
What bond? Hope wanted to say. He had never so much as given her the time of day. And that had hurt, knowing that he wouldn’t give her a chance.
He wished she didn’t look so hurt, dejected and crushed. Brushing her off wasn’t something he wanted to do; it was a familial decency that was required of him.
To his chagrin, Hope’s expression remained desolate, as if she were taking his rejection personally. He sighed regretfully. He felt a lot of things for Hope; he didn’t want to add guilt for hurting her feelings to the list. And he didn’t think his Dad would’ve wanted it, either. “But you’re right,” Chase said, picking up the thread of the conversation uncomfortably. “I am anxious to be out of here.” Away from the temptation of you. “But as much as I want to get back to work I can’t take your money, Hope.” Not knowing that despite all their best efforts, the store might fold anyway. She would still have Joey to raise, and thus would need every cent she had.
Hope was silent, remembering, he expected, that he had never taken money from his father for his expeditions, either. Chase noticed with relief that her hurt expression was beginning to fade.