Читать книгу Her Tender Touch - Dara Girard - Страница 9
ОглавлениеHer hands were going where they didn’t belong, but they’d been doing that all evening. Jason Ward did his best to move away, but if he moved any farther, he’d fall out of his seat.
“I love a man who knows what he wants,” Stephanie Armstrong said, as she purred loudly. She reminded him of a hungry feline ready for mating season. She was an attractive older woman whose husband was a possible key investor. Jason’s partner, Dennis Collins, had put him in charge of keeping her entertained for the evening, but she only had one thing on her mind. And this wasn’t the first time. He didn’t know why the wives seemed to be drawn to him. Dennis laughed and said that, along with his good looks, he had a raw, hungry ambition their husbands lacked that sparked their interest. For a brief moment Jason thought of how he’d had to kiss up to many of them over the years, when he’d been younger and just starting out. He didn’t mind the perks that came with getting a lucrative business deal, but right now he wasn’t in the mood. He seized her wrist as it came too close to his manhood. His eyes met hers, and he saw them light up.
“I can make sure my husband gives you everything you want.” She bent forward, giving him a clear view of her ample cleavage.
He shoved her hand away. “I’m not that desperate. Excuse me.” Jason began to push his chair away. She extended her jeweled hand and placed it firmly on his forearm.
“You don’t want to make me unhappy,” she said in a low warning voice.
Jason took a napkin that was lying nearby and scribbled down a number, then handed it to her.
She grinned. “That’s more like it.”
He stood and left. Dennis saw him heading for the door and walked over to him. “Did I just see you give your phone number to that Armstrong woman?”
“No. I gave her a number, but it wasn’t mine. It’s for an escort service.”
“Does she know that?”
“She’ll find out when she calls them.”
Dennis swore. “Couldn’t you just flirt with her a little bit? I’m the brains and you’re the—”
“The what? The stud?”
“No, I’m just saying that you need to be a little more suave in your approach to people like that...”
“Who treat me like a boy toy or some kind of sex slave they’ve purchased for their private use?”
“She’s an attractive woman.”
“Just like all the others,” Jason said, bored. “You know my policy. I don’t sleep with wives.”
“No one is asking you to sleep with her.”
“You weren’t at the table—her hands were saying a lot.”
“We need this deal.”
Jason knew that. He and Dennis, his best friend, were partners in a software development firm they had created several years earlier. Due to major cost overruns they had incurred developing innovative cyber-security software they had recently launched, they had discovered that their chief financial officer had been embezzling some of the funds. He had hired his girlfriend as his bookkeeper—only at the time he didn’t let anyone know she was his girlfriend—who had fixed the books. Now the company was facing bankruptcy, but he and Dennis were the only ones who knew. To rectify what had happened, they had invited several key investors and speculators to a “wine-and-dine” weekend at a fancy golf retreat that cost them a fortune; but they were willing to spare no expense to get back on track. They had dismissed the CFO but desperately wanted to keep any knowledge of what had happened a secret, and had agreed not to file any criminal charges as long as he signed a nondisclosure agreement.
But somehow a rumor was spreading that the company was facing financial difficulty, and the two of them had decided they needed to make sure the investors were not nervous and felt secure with the direction the company was going. In order to avoid bankruptcy, Jason had recently forged a high-risk venture, which he hadn’t revealed to the board of directors yet, with hopes it would come through in time.
Jason looked around him and swore. What was he doing? He was tired of “entertaining” wives and significant others, just to get a couple of bucks. He never wanted to be like his investors. They wore their fine tailored suits along with their weak ethics and kissed up to him when it suited them, but he knew they’d drop him in an instant. It was all just business. He knew he was in a shark-infested ocean and needed to make sure to keep his teeth sharpened.
“You know, man, you make people nervous,” Dennis said.
“Are you still referring to Mrs. Armstrong?”
“No. I mean, people in general.”
Jason shrugged. “So what?”
“One day, someone may want to teach you a lesson.”
Jason tugged on the cuff of his jacket. “I’m already well schooled.”
“The company is in trouble. Bankruptcy is not something to toy around with.”
“I know why we’re here. Remember, I helped build this company with you, and I won’t see it fail.” He walked away.
* * *
Dennis watched him go and sighed. He was wrong. He wasn’t just the brains—Jason was, too, but no one would know it by the way he acted. He had the body of a wrestler and the brash manners of a street fighter. It wasn’t just his intimidating build that put people on edge; he had a certain disdain—especially for individuals he could tell were only after the bottom line, no matter the cost—which he didn’t mind showing. His eyes cut through them. What had once been an asset, his ability to fearlessly face whatever problem they had, was now a liability to the growth of the company. And Dennis knew the board was thinking of removing him.
“The man’s a damn gorilla,” one stockholder said. He could get away with saying such things in public since he was one of the biggest shareholders.
“He’s jeopardizing the image of the company.”
“He’s also made this company rich,” another said, one of the few who still believed in Jason. “He’s the reason SENTEL, Incorporated is in existence.”
“And he’ll be the reason it fails if we’re not careful.”
Dennis looked over and saw Jason arguing with Mr. Hansen, one of the key members of the board of directors. He gripped his hand into a fist and then released it. He wanted the company for himself. It was time. He no longer wanted to be overshadowed by Jason’s brilliance or crass behavior. They’d risen higher than they’d both imagined, but Dennis felt that Jason was now a risk to that dream. Dennis hadn’t grown up on the streets of Baltimore the way Jason had, but he’d tolerated Jason’s rough ways because he made him money.
Now his usefulness was coming to an end. With the release of the new software, and the profits that would follow, Dennis felt ready to rule on his own. But he wished Gwen Duggin were here. She was the one person who knew Jason. How he thought, and why he acted the way he did. After her death, Jason had buried himself in work and buried the man he used to be. Dennis had little interest in resurrecting that man. He just wanted to find a way to remove his old friend so that he could be free of him forever.
Stephanie approached him. “You said he was a sure thing.” Annoyance and hurt were clear in her voice.
“I was wrong,” Dennis said, guessing from her tone that she had called the number Jason had given her.
“I don’t like being made a fool of.” She moved in closer to him, and he could smell the wine on her breath.
“Neither do I.”
She arched a perfectly trimmed brow. “So we have a common enemy?”
“It looks that way.” Dennis took a sip of his wine. “I want him gone and you want him punished, but there’s not much we can do. I don’t want the company to suffer.”
“The company doesn’t have to. I think I know a way.”
“I’m listening.”
“It could be risky, and he might not fall for it.”
“He trusts me, and that’s all you need to know.”
“Good, then I know of a plan that will get him put out of the way for a long time.”
As he listened to Stephanie’s scheme, Dennis’s smile widened.
One year later
A cold March wind blew past like a desolate breath as Jason stared at a man he’d once considered a friend. The two stood in the parking lot outside their office after a long day. “What do you mean I’m out?”
“The board voted, and we’re replacing you.”
“But I built this company.”
“And we thank you for it. But you’re a liability now.”
“I can fight this. It will be a cold day in hell before I—”
“You’re lucky this is all that’s happening. Mrs. Armstrong accused you of assaulting her.”
“What? You know I didn’t touch her.”
“It’s her word against yours. Who do you think they’ll believe? That’s the problem with you, Jason. You think it’s all about honesty and integrity, but in business it’s about image and getting people to believe you. You know how to make money, but not everyone respects you.”
Before he could reply, Jason saw them. Several men, looking very serious, wearing what looked like identical dark suits, came up to him. “Mr. Jason Ward, you’re under arrest for fraud.”
“What?” He stared at them, unable to process what was happening.
“I’ll get you a good lawyer,” Dennis said as the officers led him away.
But no lawyer could help. Dennis had skillfully turned everything Jason had done over the past year to save the company into “questionable dealings,” including the high-risk venture he had discussed with Dennis and the company lawyers, to see if the idea, though risky, was viable. They had concurred that, although the approach appeared a little shady, he was on the right side of the law. Now he’d been charged with an obscure fraud violation he never knew even existed. In an instant, his image was shattered, and he knew that, although he couldn’t prove it, he was being prosecuted because of jealously and false accusation, and that Dennis and Mrs. Stephanie Armstrong were behind it.
Initially, he fought the charges long and hard, but soon discovered how difficult it was dealing with the federal government. The evidence presented was stacked up against him, and without the company’s wealth to back him, his lawyer told him that he wouldn’t be able to win and that he should make a deal. He did and was convicted, in spite of his willingness to work with the government and the fact that he had no prior record, and was sentenced to fourteen months in a federal penitentiary.
The fall of Caesar. The last person he’d trusted had betrayed him. But betrayal and disappointment were nothing new to him. He had gone through a lot growing up in the foster care system in Baltimore. His adoptive mom had given him a chance, once he’d aged out of the system. He had no memory of his real parents. As a child he just remembered going from one home to the next and having to take care of himself.
His adoptive mom, Beatrice Ward, had made a difference in his life. She saw what others didn’t. At eighteen, he’d given up on having a real family of his own; then she’d come along. He remembered now that she never liked his best friend, Dennis, when he’d introduced him to her. Dennis’s parents had briefly fostered Jason, and they’d struck up a lifetime friendship. At least that’s what he thought. After graduating from high school, he’d earned a degree in industrial engineering while Dennis got an MBA, and the two friends decided to build a company together. Work had been his saving grace after Gwen died.
He still couldn’t stand being alone or quiet with his thoughts, but prison had forced him to face himself. To face the harsh description of the man the prosecuting attorney had portrayed in court, saying he was a brute, ruthless, a reckless man. He would lay down his sword. There was nothing more to fight for. Everything that had mattered to him had been taken away. He couldn’t even face his mother and refused to see her when she came to visit. He wanted to disappear. That was until he heard she was ill, and he knew he had to be there for her. That’s when the old fire in him returned. He became a model prisoner, and with the help of a new attorney, he served only nine of the fourteen-month sentence.
Eventually the ruling was overturned, but the damage had been done. The nine months he spent being locked up had been like living in a nightmare, and he just wanted to get on with his life. While the TV cameras and news reporters had been there when he’d entered the prison, no one was there when he came out. Only a small news article was placed on the last page of the major local newspaper. He was still a wealthy man, at least on paper, but he had enormous legal fees, and his reputation was now in ruins.
Jason spent the next six months making sure his mother, who had been diagnosed with a slow-growing uterine cancer, got the care she needed. She was the most important person in his life, and although he hadn’t allowed her to see him while he was in prison, she had kept sending a steady stream of note cards, one a week, which he had saved and dutifully secured in his home safe, taking time to read them every now and then.
During some of those long hours alone in his cell, he’d remembered all of her sacrifices. How much she gave up, so that he could have the life he now led.
He spent hours taking her to and from her chemotherapy appointments and hired a private-duty nurse to stay with her when he couldn’t, to help her during her recovery period. After she finished the series of grueling treatments, they got the good news they both hoped for: her cancer was officially in remission. Jason then focused on rebuilding his life.
He decided to go into a business that was totally opposite of what he had done before, that wouldn’t care much about his past history. He purchased a chain of time-share resorts that was in foreclosure. He would rise again and prove that he was a man of integrity. To get the business off the ground, Jason needed a partner or at least one or two investors, but no one would partner with him. He tried to convince himself that he didn’t need them, he’d be fine on his own, but he knew that wasn’t true. He needed partners and millions of dollars if this new venture was to succeed.
* * *
Red velvet. Abby’s mouth watered, but it wasn’t the cake on her plate that made her drool, or the hot August sun—it was the man she saw stepping out of a silver Lexus. He was tall, and cool like a glass of ice-cold water, the sun seeking him with its rays. He pushed up his sunglasses. She hadn’t had such a visceral reaction to a man since her divorce. Maybe the reason why he’d claimed her interest was because this man seemed the complete opposite of her ex, who always worried about what others thought of him. She could tell by the way this man held himself that he didn’t care who looked at him, and plenty of people did. He had a cool, disinterested air, and was dressed casually in a form-fitted sweater and jeans. He looked like a man of finesse. Tempting, massive and beautiful. The kind of man who could inspire poetry. Abby sighed. He was probably taken and just a fantasy for her. For a brief moment, she imagined herself sitting at a fancy dining table opposite him, holding up a fork with succulent oysters to his full, beautiful lips, the steam from a cup of hot chocolate sitting between them pushing back a cold winter day.
Abby saw him enter the restaurant and sit down at a table. She cupped her chin in her hand, watching his every move. Then he pulled out and answered his cell phone, and she saw his face change. It wasn’t a pretty expression. It was scary. His voice was low—a rumbling murmur, but she heard every word. He used a string of swear words. Her fantasy of him quickly disappeared. She’d never heard a man be so foul. He’d be better to never open his mouth again, she thought. Abby quickly finished her dessert, paid the bill, then left. So much for her fantasy man.
* * *
Jason Ward was in a rage. He’d just received a phone call from a builder at one of the resort sites where renovations were being done. He’d called to let Jason know that a worker had been seriously injured because of a foolish oversight. Jason hated incompetence, and the fact that a man’s family would have to suffer as a consequence of a stupid supervisor made his blood boil. If he could do everything himself, he would, but he needed to work with others. He would have the supervisor removed.
He was finishing his rant when his mother entered the restaurant, walked up to his table, snatched the phone out of his hand and closed it. She was in town visiting, enjoying one of her favorite pastimes, shopping, and spending time with a close gentleman friend of hers who lived nearby. Whenever she came into town, she stayed in an exclusive one-bedroom condo Jason had bought for her several years ago. It was conveniently located close to everything, including the hospital when she needed it, and she could easily use the underground metro rail to go places. This morning, the two of them had planned to meet for lunch.
Jason stared up at her, surprised. “I wasn’t done yet.”
“You’ve got to stop doing that.” Beatrice pulled out a chair and sat down.
“My business?”
“Cursing. People are looking at you.”
“I don’t care. Do you know—”
“I don’t care. This is why no one will work with you.”
“I don’t need anyone. See what happened last time?”
“You can’t do this new venture on your own, and you know it. And bullying people won’t help you either. You need to develop a new reputation if you want to rebuild your business. How can you hire the best when they don’t want to work with you?”
Jason sighed. “What do you expect me to do?”
“I’m glad you asked. A friend of mine told me about this.” She pushed a colorful brochure in his direction. While Jason looked the brochure over, Beatrice Ward placed her usual order, soup and salad. It was a tradition of theirs to have a mother-son luncheon when his schedule allowed. She always enjoyed the time they were able to spend together.
“What is it?” Jason asked, frowning.
“It’s a flyer for an image consultant. If you want to remake your business, you need to remake your image.”
“I don’t have the time.”
“It won’t take long, and do you really want to get more phone calls like the one you just had? If you want your business to grow in the direction you want, you need to learn some business etiquette. Your temper, especially your swearing, and your lack of tact will—”
“What do you expect me to do? Handle an incompetent supervisor with kid gloves?”
“No, but first you’ll learn not to interrupt someone when they’re speaking.”
“Okay,” he agreed.
“And what if you make an employee so angry he tries to do something to your property?”
“You mean like set it on fire?” Jason laughed. He loved his mother, but sometimes she worried too much.
“Yes. You never know what someone will do when they get angry.”
Yes, he did. He’d never shared with his mother his suspicion that Dennis and Mrs. Armstrong were the ones behind him getting kicked out of his company and behind his imprisonment.
And he didn’t plan to. He decided to just shrug, brushing the thought away.
* * *
Two weeks later, Jason was more concerned about his mom’s scheduled doctor’s visit. He sat in the waiting room while she got some blood work done. To keep his mind off things, Jason went to one of the vending machines and made a selection, ready for a nice sugar rush. When the candy dropped, he picked up the packet of chocolate raisins and turned, ready to head back down the hall. He stopped when he saw a little boy, about four years old, standing near the wall, crying. No one else seemed to notice him as they rushed past. Jason waited a few moments to see if someone would stop, but no one did. He silently swore. He had to be careful—he wasn’t always good with kids—but he had to find out what was wrong. He walked over to the child and knelt down to his level. “Are you lost?”
The little boy put two fingers in his mouth and stared at him.
Jason repeated his question in Spanish.
The little boy continued to stare at him, but his tears dried up.
Jason repeated the question in French.
The little boy blinked and started to suck his thumb.
Jason sighed and shrugged. “Sorry, that’s all I know,” he said in English. “Mama? Do you know where she is? Or papa?”
He nodded.
“Oh, so you’re not lost?”
He shook his head.
If he wasn’t lost, where was his guardian? He was too young to be on his own. “My name is Mr. Ward. Who did you come here with?” Jason said, softening his voice even more.
“Mama.”
“Okay, and where is she?”
The little boy pointed vaguely down the hall.
“Well, you should be with her. She must be worried about you. Do you want me to take you to her?”
The child shook his head.
“Why are you crying?” He almost regretted asking. It was a hospital after all; perhaps someone he cared about was sick, or worse, had died.
The child looked at the chocolate-covered raisins in Jason’s hand.
“Do you want some candy?”
The child stopped crying and nodded.
“You know, you shouldn’t be talking to strangers.”
He nodded but kept staring at the candy.
Jason sighed. “Okay, I’ll give you one, then I’m taking you back to your mom.”
He poured some candy out and started to hand it to him when he felt something hard strike the side of his face. It hit him with such force he fell over, candy scattering on the ground.
“You pervert!” a woman screamed. “Get away from my son.”
Jason sat up and glared at her. “I thought he was lost.”
“And you thought it was a good idea to give him candy?”
Jason surged to his feet. “You shouldn’t have left him alone in the first place. What’s wrong with you? You think I’d sit here giving him candy if I had something else in mind? I could have snatched him in seconds.”
Her eyes widened, and she picked up her son and backed away from him.
“You’re completely irresponsible leaving a young child like him alone for so long.”
Tears appeared in the woman’s eyes. “You have no right to talk to me like that. You don’t know the stress I’ve been under and—”
“I don’t care.”
A guard approached them. “Ma’am, is this man bothering you?”
“Yes, he was trying to take my son.”
The guard touched Jason’s arm. “Sir—”
“I wasn’t doing any such thing,” he said in a low growl. “The little boy was lost, and I was just giving him some candy. I was about to take him to find his mother when this crazy woman hit me over the head with her purse and accused me of trying to steal her child!”
The woman swallowed hard, having the grace to look embarrassed. “He’s right. Excuse me.” She hurried away with her child.
Jason sighed, then touched the side of his face where she’d struck him. His hand came back with blood. What the hell was she carrying in her purse? Damn, he should have left the kid alone. He had just been trying to help, and she thought he had other ideas. Why did people always think the worst of him?
“What happened to you?” his mother asked when she saw him in the waiting room.
“Oh, nothing. I wasn’t looking where I was going and walked into a wall,” Jason lied.
“It’s because you’re working too much, not looking where you’re going. If Gwen—” She stopped.
Were here, he said silently, finishing the sentence she couldn’t.
He still missed her, even though it had been over a decade, especially at times like this when he worried about his mother. Gwen had made him feel less alone. Connected to the world in some way. He thought of the dreams they’d made for the future. Dreams that wouldn’t come true. He thought of her when he’d come up with the idea for the resort—he could picture her smiling and telling him how smart he was.
“She would want you to be happy,” his mother said.
He wondered if that was even possible anymore. He’d stopped being happy after her death. Partly out of guilt, but mostly despair. His business had been his life, and that had been taken from him just as she had.
Beatrice handed him the brochure again. “You need this. You have to change. You can’t use fear as a factor to get respect.”
He didn’t want anyone to think he was easy. He demanded respect. He’d worked hard for it. As a kid, he’d been the small one who’d gotten bullied in school. He was the kid whose best friend got shot during a robbery at a gas station. He was the kid who used to be terrified he’d never escape the violence around him. But he wasn’t a kid anymore, and he remembered the initial look in the young mother’s eyes—it wasn’t respect, it was fear. He didn’t want to be feared anymore.
Jason reluctantly looked over the brochure and sighed. His mother was right. He was in a totally new field, and without partners like Dennis to be his good manners, he needed to re-create himself.
