Читать книгу Winning Charlotte Back - Kathy Douglass - Страница 9

Chapter One

As Charlotte Shields passed the secretaries’ lunch room on her way to her corner office, the off-key strains of the happy birthday song wafted through the open door. Her steps slowed. Stopped.

“Open my gift first,” a voice cried out.

“Wait until after the cake,” someone said and female laughter followed.

Charlotte yearned to join the celebration, but she knew she wouldn’t be welcome. Not now. Early in her career several of the other women had invited her to join them on a girls’ night out. She’d longed to say yes, but she’d known better. The morning of her first day, her father had called her into his office and given her a list of rules designed especially for her. Primary among them was that she was not to mingle with the employees. To his way of thinking, it would be hard to discipline or terminate a friend. She’d been eager to please and convinced that her father knew better than she how to run a business, so she’d complied.

After a while, the invitations slowed and finally stopped. The offers of friendship dried up. The other women came to regard her as conceited and unfriendly, a reputation she’d lived up to over the years. She regretted her behavior now, but years ago she’d been willing to do anything to avoid disappointing her father.

Charlotte’s need to please her father had always been her downfall.

She forced the longing and regrets away and continued through the maze of cubicles, pausing when she got to her secretary’s desk. “Did anyone call while I was out?”

“Yes, Ms. Shields.” Anita handed her a stack of pink paper. “Your father has scheduled a meeting in the conference room for three this afternoon.”

“Thank you.”

Although Anita was only a year younger than Charlotte’s own thirty-four, she never addressed Charlotte by her first name, something that hadn’t bothered Charlotte before. For some reason, the distance it created between them bugged her now.

Charlotte opened her mouth to ask how the other woman’s pregnancy was progressing, but she couldn’t find the words.

“Is there something else, Ms. Shields?” Anita asked when Charlotte continued to stand there. Anita’s voice was professional, lacking the warmth that was there when she interacted with the other secretaries, and Charlotte’s heart sank.

“No, nothing.”

Stepping through the door to her office, Charlotte riffled through the messages. Nothing urgent. Her mind returned to the meeting her father had scheduled for that afternoon. Charles was a creature of habit and had established a schedule that hadn’t changed in all the years she’d worked here. The fact that he’d called an impromptu meeting was unsettling. But there was no sense asking him about the agenda beforehand because he wouldn’t tell her. Although she was his daughter, he never treated her better than anyone else. If anything, he was harder on her.

She had master’s degrees in both business and marketing, but she’d still had to start at the bottom and work her way up to the position of executive vice president of marketing. There was not the slightest doubt in her mind that had she been a son, her path would have been easier. By now, she’d be president.

She got down to work, determined to have her desk cleared in case her father passed out new assignments.

At promptly 2:55 she stepped into the conference room. Several executives mingled, talking quietly among themselves. They nodded at her and she did the same. She was too jittery to engage in conversation, so she stared at the framed newspaper and magazine articles lining the walls. The articles chronicled the progression of Shields Manufacturing from a small company specializing in bookcases to one of the top furniture manufacturing companies in the world.

Five minutes later her father entered, followed by a man she’d never seen before.

“Have a seat,” Charles said. The man he’d brought with him took the chair at her father’s right—her chair—so she was forced to sit in the next chair. She glowered at the trespasser but he didn’t seem to notice.

Instead of immediately getting to the point of the meeting as was his habit, Charles’s eyes traveled the same path hers had only moments ago, a small smile on his face as he seemed to relive the history of the company. For the briefest moment, her father seemed reflective. Charles was many things, but introspective wasn’t one of them.

Was he ill? He’d lost weight since her mother’s death two years ago, but she’d attributed it to lack of appetite due to grief. She looked at him closely. She didn’t notice anything different.

“I know you’re all wondering why I called this meeting today.” Charles smiled. Smiled! He never smiled. Charlotte’s heart sped up as worry gnawed at her.

“Let me put you at ease,” Charles continued. “I’m not sick. And you all know the company is doing well.”

Relief whooshed through Charlotte. Although Charles wasn’t the warmest person, he was for all intents and purposes the only family she had, as she was currently estranged from her sisters.

She realized her father was still speaking and forced herself to listen. Charles gestured to the wall. “We’ve come a long way from where we started to where we are now. I want to ensure that the next thirty-five years are just as successful as the past thirty-five. To that end, I’m stepping aside as president to make room for someone new. I’ll stay on as CEO to make sure the company continues to go in the right direction.”

Everyone in the room began to talk, but Charlotte couldn’t find her voice. Her heart drummed in anticipation. Her father was finally going to reward her with the job she’d worked and sacrificed for. All her hard work, her long days and lonely nights were finally going to pay off.

Charles cleared his throat and the room grew silent. He smiled at the man beside him and unease began to churn in Charlotte’s stomach. “This is Gabriel Jenkins. As of noon today, he’s the new president.”

Her father continued to talk, but Charlotte couldn’t make out any of the words over the buzzing in her head. He couldn’t do this to her. She’d dedicated her life to him. To this company. And he was bringing in a stranger to run it! Someone who hadn’t shed one tear or sweated one ounce of blood to make Shields Manufacturing the success that it was. He’d betrayed her. And he expected her to join in the applause and well wishes?

She fought against the dizziness and the black hole that threatened to swallow her. She ignored the pain that resulted from her heart being ripped out of her chest and focused her attention on her father. He wasn’t even looking at her, but rather was paying rapt attention to the interloper who was now rambling about his Harvard education.

She looked around the room at the rest of the executives. Most seemed embarrassed or hurt for her and looked away. Only Toby Baker met her eyes, and he was smirking. He’d asked her out a couple of times, but even with her limited experience with men, she’d known he was only looking to get ahead by dating the boss’s daughter. Get ahead. That was a laugh.

She’d sacrificed everything for her father and this stupid company. And what had that blind loyalty gotten her? No friends. No family of her own. No relationship with her sisters. Nothing.

Anger burned her stomach and grew into a raging inferno. She stood, pushing her chair so hard that, despite the thick carpet, it slammed against the wall. Every eye turned in her direction and the new president stopped babbling. Her father raised an imperial eyebrow that in the past would have had her cowering and slinking back into her seat. Not this time. She’d lost everything that mattered. There was nothing more for her to lose.

“Charlotte.” Her father’s tone was severe. Cold. No different from the look in his eyes or the ice encasing his heart.

“I quit.” She glanced at her watch. “Effective three thirteen p.m.”

Her father didn’t blink or acknowledge her words in the slightest. Milton Hayes, an old-timer and the closest thing she had to a friend in the company, nodded once as if agreeing with her move. The new president looked startled and opened his mouth as if to speak, but she no longer had to listen to anyone. Brushing past him, she walked to her office. She had very few personal items there, only a throw on the back of her chair that she used on damp or chilly days to keep her feet warm and an old snapshot of her with her mother and sisters. She dropped the picture into her purse, grabbed the throw and turned off the light.

“Mr. Adams from the First Bank of America is holding on line four,” Anita said when Charlotte approached.

“He is no longer my problem,” Charlotte said, not slowing as she passed the woman who could have been a friend if Charlotte had taken her up on one of her many overtures. Another foolish move she’d made in the futile effort to gain her father’s approval. Charlotte stalked to the elevator then pressed the button several times, anxious to get out of this place.

Finally the elevator door slid open. Blinking back hot tears, she stepped inside. She refused to let even one teardrop fall. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed deeply until she’d smothered the urge to cry. Crying didn’t change anything; it only gave someone else power over you.

After dumping her belongings onto the passenger seat of her car, she sped out of the garage. Shields Manufacturing was in her past and she wasn’t looking back.

By the time she was sitting on the sofa in her duplex, the anger and numbness had worn off and the magnitude of what she’d done hit her, making her sick to her stomach.

She’d quit her job.

She wasn’t worried about money. She’d invested wisely and lived well within her means. But she’d severed the link to the only family member she had a relationship with. The relationship she’d done everything to hang on to. And it had cost her everything. She’d all but given up her life to earn her father’s love and now knew it had been for nothing. He didn’t care a thing about her and nothing she did would ever change that.

She forced the nausea away. She’d survived worse things and come out a wiser, stronger person. She’d survive this, too.

“Almost there,” Rick Tyler said, infusing his voice with enthusiasm. He stole a look at his brooding ten-year-old stepson then focused back on the road, steering the U-Haul around a curve.

“Big whoop.”

Rick bit back a sigh. To say Bobby had resisted moving from Milwaukee would be an understatement. But then, he’d expected resistance. Bobby had fought Rick tooth and nail about everything since his mother walked out on them a year and a half ago. They hadn’t heard a word from her since and they didn’t have a way of contacting her.

“Sweet Briar is a great place. Even though I grew up in New Jersey, I spent a lot of time here when I was in college. I actually worked at a furniture manufacturing company for a couple of summers.”

“You know how to make furniture?” Bobby asked, his eyes sparking with a hint of interest.

“No. Actually, I worked in the main office.”

The gleam left Bobby’s eyes. Rick couldn’t blame him. Shuffling papers didn’t hold nearly the excitement of using big tools. And his experiences had convinced him that corporate America wasn’t for him. Though Rick had hated the work, he’d enjoyed his time with the boss’s daughter.

Charlotte had been sweet and funny, if a little too eager to please her father, something he’d suffered from as well. They’d gotten close and their fathers had pressured them to get engaged.

Rick knew he shouldn’t have gone along with the plan as long as he had, but things had spun out of control so quickly. It had gone from simple talk to a fait accompli in a matter of weeks. And he had loved Charlotte, even though he hadn’t been in love with her.

As the wedding date drew closer, Rick’s doubts had increased. Their parents were calling all the shots and he had felt trapped.

His father had wanted Rick to join the family business. After all, he would soon have a wife to support. Rick’s dream of going to medical school had been going up in flames in front of his eyes. He’d needed to stop things. He’d tried and tried to get Charlotte to call off the wedding.

When she wouldn’t agree, he hadn’t shown up at the church.

He’d hated hurting her, but he’d been desperate. He’d cared enough about her not to marry her when he’d known he’d only grow to resent her if he couldn’t follow his dreams. In the long run, it had been best for both of them. At least that was what he told himself when the guilt kept him awake at night.

“If it was so great then why didn’t you stay?”

“I’d been accepted to University of Michigan medical school.” His life had moved forward and the town had become a part of his past. But he hadn’t forgotten the time he’d spent with Charlotte. The summer they’d spent in the quaint town had been one of the best of his life. Sweet Briar seemed like the perfect place to start over and raise a family.

Of course, even as he believed it would be good for Bobby, he knew he had some bridges to repair, starting with Charlotte. He’d tried to apologize to her for leaving her at the altar, but he hadn’t succeeded. If he was going to move here, he was going to have to make amends to her. Additionally, he had to prove to the people of the town that he was worthy of being their doctor.

Jake Patterson, his mentor from medical school, had relatives in the area. He’d been the one to mention the town’s needs. The longtime doctor had died three years ago, leaving the people of Sweet Briar to travel to Willow Creek for medical care. Two other doctors had come and gone after him. When Dr. Patterson put Rick’s name forward, he reported back that several members of the town council and a few older residents in town expressed reservations about Rick. They remembered him as the runaway groom who’d thoughtlessly left one of their own standing at the church. They weren’t sure they could count on him to live up to a commitment.

Even though Rick didn’t need anyone’s approval to open a practice, he’d reached out to the mayor and the council. Rick had promised the mayor that he’d stay at least two years. Still, he knew he had a lot of hard work to do if he intended to show the people of Sweet Briar that he was reliable.

Of course, winning over the town was only part of his problem. He also needed to find a way to make amends to Charlotte. That was a key factor in deciding to return to Sweet Briar. He didn’t like the way he’d ended things between them. After what happened with Sherry, it became imperative to him that he make things right with Charlotte. He needed to do it in person.

Twelve years ago he’d known he’d hurt her, but hadn’t realized just how much. Then his ex-wife left him and he’d gotten a taste of the pain Charlotte must have experienced. The humiliation. Now Rick knew he’d blown a hole in Charlotte’s heart when he didn’t show up at the church. No matter how desperate he’d felt, he should have shown up. He didn’t imagine seeing her again would be pleasant, but he didn’t deserve it to be. What he’d done had been reprehensible. He knew that now. He only wished he’d known it then. He’d telephoned her the day after to apologize, but she hadn’t accepted his call. He’d written two letters, but they’d been returned unopened. He hadn’t contacted her again.

He and Bobby rode in silence for a while. When Bobby spoke his voice was tiny. Scared. “Mom won’t know how to find me. She’ll come back and someone else will be living in our house.”

Rick doubted she’d ever return. Sherry was too busy enjoying the single life. Not that he would ever say that to his son. “I left our information with the Browns next door. If she stops by they’ll tell her where we are. And I have the same cell phone number. If your mom tries to reach us, she’ll be able to. Okay?”

“Sure, Rick.” Sarcasm barely disguised the worry in his voice.

Rick sighed and counted to ten. The counselor Rick had taken Bobby to see had insisted his son was testing him because he was afraid Rick would abandon him, too. Rick had known that without being told. What he didn’t know was how to help Bobby.

“You’ve called me Dad for years. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me Rick now.”

“Or what? You’ll write a stupid letter and sneak out in the middle of the night, leaving me all alone?” Bobby’s voice quivered and tears flooded his eyes.

Rick clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “That’s not going to happen. You’re my son and I love you. Where I go, you go. Got it?”

Blinking furiously, Bobby nodded and turned to stare out his window. Rick once more cursed his ex-wife. Okay, so she didn’t want to be married to him anymore—he got that. But he couldn’t believe she no longer wanted her son. How was Rick supposed to help Bobby deal with that kind of rejection?

Hopefully Sweet Briar would provide the answers Rick was searching for. Bobby had gone from being sad, refusing to leave home in case his mother returned, to angry. He’d also begun hanging around the wrong kids and getting into trouble. He’d stopped doing his homework and become disruptive in class. His teacher had been sympathetic, but she’d had other students to consider. When the principal suggested enrolling Bobby in an alternative school, Rick had known he needed to act.

Rick didn’t delude himself into believing that Bobby’s problems would magically disappear in Sweet Briar. But Rick would be running a small practice here, so he’d have more time to spend with his son than he’d had in Milwaukee. That had to help. If not, Rick didn’t know what he would do. He just knew he wouldn’t stop until he found the solution.

He slowed, checking the numbers on the houses, searching for the address the rental agent had given him. Rick had been lucky to find the duplex. Sweet Briar didn’t have much of a rental market and the other two available options weren’t as nice as the three-bedroom unit with a backyard that the agent had found. The agent said the place wouldn’t be on the market for long, so Rick had taken the property sight unseen, renting it for a year.

He spotted the address and slowed, parking the truck on the street. “We’re here. Home at last.”

Bobby hopped out of the truck, reached behind the seat and grabbed his basketball, then began dribbling it on the driveway.

“Let’s get everything unloaded before you play. I want to get the beds set up. Then we can grab something to eat.”

Bobby huffed out a breath but he dropped the ball on the grass and walked toward the back of the truck. His movements were turtle-slow but at least he was cooperating.

Rick took care of releasing his Mustang from the tow and pulled into his half of the shared driveway, next to a midnight blue BMW sedan. Then he unlocked the truck and raised the door.

“Looks like our neighbor is home,” Rick said as he moved a couple of boxes, trying to find one that wasn’t too heavy for Bobby. He’d packed carefully, so the load hadn’t shifted too much during the drive.

Bobby took the box and grunted as he pressed it against his chest. He frowned. “That’s an old person’s car. It’s probably some grumpy old man who’s going to yell at me to keep off his grass.”

“Look at those flowers. They don’t look like something a grumpy old man would plant. Maybe a nice old lady who likes to bake cookies lives there.”

“And she’ll yell at me to keep out of her garden.”

Rick didn’t get a chance to reply because the front door opened and a woman stepped outside. He only got a brief glance at her before she turned away from him, but it was enough to reveal that she wasn’t an old lady. He guessed she was about thirty. She wasn’t much taller than average, but what she lacked in height she made up for in curves. No doubt she was married or involved. Not that it mattered. Bobby had to be his main concern. He didn’t have room in his life for a relationship. Still, since they were going to be sharing a wall, it wouldn’t hurt to be friendly.

“Come on, Bobby. Let’s introduce ourselves.”

Bobby rolled his eyes but he followed Rick across the yard to the short flight of stairs, juggling the box as he went. As they grew closer, the woman turned around. Rick got a good look at her face and his heart skipped a beat.

Charlotte.