Читать книгу This Tender Melody - Kianna Alexander - Страница 12

Chapter 3

Eve joined her parents in the sunroom, carrying the tray of Italian fare she’d ordered for dinner. Her mother had thrown open a few of the windows, letting the late-summer breeze blow through the room. Setting the tray down on the mosaic dining table, she began taking the lids off the containers. “I got some primavera for you, Daddy, chicken Parmesan for you, Mama, and a little baked ziti for me.”

While she considered herself a woman of many talents, cooking wasn’t one of them. Her parents were well aware of her lack of culinary skills, so they weren’t surprised when she’d brought over the food prepared by her favorite private chef, Alfonzo. Some of the wealthiest families in the area could be counted among his clients.

She sat down and reached for the pitcher of iced tea on the table—the one thing she had made herself—and filled her glass. She was about to take a sip when she stopped, holding the glass in midtip. Her mother and father were staring at her, both with odd looks on their faces. “What’s the problem? Why are you guys staring at me like that?”

No answer. Instead, her parents’ gazes shifted, until they were looking at each other.

“Mama?”

Louise sighed.

Her brow furrowing, she turned to her father. “Daddy? What in the world is going on?”

Joseph picked up his glass, took a long draw of tea. “Well, baby, we have some news.”

“Okay. What is it?” She rested her palms on the table, and waited.

“First, you’ll be glad to know I made a doctor’s appointment. I’m going in on Friday for a whole slew of tests.”

She nodded, offering a smile. “That is good news. But I feel like there’s something else.”

Louise spoke up. “There is. Your father is retiring, finally.”

Eve reached across the table to grasp his hand. When she did, she found it to be a bit cool and clammy. “I’m proud of you for putting your health first, Daddy. And I want you to know I’m going to make you proud. I’ll lead FTI as honorably as you have.”

He cleared his throat, his gaze drifting away from hers.

Something wasn’t right.

She felt the tension in the room begin to creep into her shoulders and neck. Still holding his hands, she stared at him. “Daddy, what is it you’re not saying?”

He looked at her, but only briefly. Then he cast his eyes down again, as if studying the carpet beneath his slipper-clad feet. “Lord. I didn’t think this would be so hard.”

Now she was worried. Her pulse sped up, her mouth went dry. What were they keeping from her? “Will somebody please tell me what is going on?”

“I’m sorry, baby. So sorry.” He had yet to look up,

This was getting pretty disconcerting. First they’d stared at her, now her father was taking evasive maneuvers to avoid looking at her, and apologizing on top of that? Something had to give.

The silence grew thick, palpable. Her brow creasing into a frown, she looked to her mother for an explanation.

“Your father and I discussed it, and we don’t feel you’re quite ready for the CEO position, at least not yet.” Her mother’s eyes were damp, and held what appeared to be sympathy.

The words hit her like a handful of crushed ice to the face. She jerked back in her seat, drew her hand away from her father’s. “What do you mean, I’m not ready? I’ve been with FTI my whole professional life—everything I’ve done was in preparation for this day.”

“I know, Eve,” her father said. “But you’re still in need of a bit more training in the operations of the company. When you’re ready, the job is yours.” He reached for his glass of tea.

This was the last thing she’d expected to hear. She’d been watching her father run FTI all her life. Some of her earliest memories were of toddling around the Franklin Technologies building and sitting in her father’s big chair, coloring on scrap paper. Aside from that, she held an MBA with honors and had been closely studying the inner workings of the company for the past several years. She worked hard every day at the top of the finance department, so how could they think she wasn’t ready? “Who’s going to take over now, until I’m ‘ready’?” She emphasized the last word, struggling to remain respectful to her parents despite the negative emotions swirling inside her.

“He’s an old friend, and a brilliant technologist. He’s coming out of retirement to help out, until you’re ready.” He finally made eye contact with her. “I still have every faith in your abilities, Eve. But for now, I feel this is the best way to proceed.”

That drew a bitter chuckle from her lips. So, an old man, and an outsider, was coming into their family business and denying her the chance to run the company? “Seriously, Daddy? You’d rather turn things over to a senior citizen than give me a chance to prove myself?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t say he was old, just that he was an old friend. You’ll meet him at tomorrow’s board meeting. We’ll make the official announcement then.”

“What if I never meet your standards? Will this person get to keep the job, then?”

He pursed his lips. “That’s pretty unlikely, Eve.”

Anger and hurt coursed through her veins. Based on what she was hearing, her opinion on the matter didn’t count, it had already been decided. She looked down at her untouched pasta. While the delicious aroma of garlic, tomato sauce and cheese filled her nostrils, she found she’d lost her appetite. Pushing back from the table, she stood.

“Don’t run off, Eve. Stay and enjoy dinner. We’ll talk this through.” Her mother’s eyes pleaded with her.

“Sorry, Mama. I’m not hungry anymore. Besides, it doesn’t look like there’s anything to talk about. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Tears stung the corners of her eyes. All she wanted to do was get out of there before they saw her cry. Snatching her cardigan from the back of the chair, she shrugged into it.

Joseph rose to his feet. “Eve, I expect you to be professional about all this. I haven’t lost faith in you, baby. Once you learn how to handle the shareholders, the public relations end and a few other things, you’ll be ready. You’ve got to understand...”

Her eyes locked with his, she ignored the tears streaming down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Daddy, but I don’t understand any of this.”

Before anyone could say another word, she bolted from the room. Tears blinded her path, but she swiped them away as she grabbed her purse and keys from the stone table near the front door.

With her mother calling her name, she flung open the door and ran out, slamming it behind her.

* * *

When Eve walked into the boardroom Tuesday morning, the space was alive with conversation. Most of the seats around the table were full, and as she pulled out her chair to the right of her father’s seat at the head of the table, she exchanged greetings with the other executives and board members present. In a way, this was just like any of the other board meetings she attended on a monthly basis. She knew there would be departmental reports, motions and a matter of dull details to hash out. But today’s meeting would be different, and she wasn’t sure how she’d react when the time came to make the announcement.

Last night, she’d cried herself to sleep. Today, however, she would do her best to honor her father’s request and be professional. The die had been cast, and there was no need of her making a fool of herself in front of everyone. No matter how hard it was, she was going to try to keep her emotions in check, at least until she was alone.

The room continued to fill with people as 10 a.m. approached. Louise came in, sat across from her in the chair to the left of her father’s seat and offered a small smile. Her mother reached across the table’s polished surface and grasped her hand. Eve said nothing, but offered a nod and a small smile of her own in return.

At two minutes till, her father finally strode in. Another man entered the room on his heels, and she felt a charge in the air. The atmosphere changed around her as a familiar scent filled her nostrils.

Her eyes traveled up the body of the man accompanying her father. His muscular frame was draped in a well-fitting gray suit, soft blue shirt and deep blue tie. Her gaze went higher, to meet the man’s face.

The dark eyes met hers, and recognition lit them almost immediately.

Shit!

Her mind registered who he was: the shirtless brother in the background of the picture Lina had texted her. Before she could stop herself, she said aloud, “Oh my God, it’s the elevator and volleyball guy...”

All eyes turned on her, including the sexy ones belonging to the brother in the gray suit.

He’d heard her.

She closed her eyes, and wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

* * *

What is she talking about?

Darius blinked, held his eyes closed for a moment, then opened them again.

But that didn’t change anything. The beautiful woman he’d seen on the elevator yesterday was still there, wide-eyed.

Today she wore a navy blue sheath dress that just grazed her knees. He found he much preferred it to yesterday’s pantsuit, as this getup allowed him an unobstructed view of her long, silky-looking brown legs.

Thinking he should respond to what she’d said, he dragged his eyes upward, toward her face. “I’m sorry, but I can’t say I’ve ever played volleyball in an elevator.” It was a nonsense response to match the nonsense statement, and he hoped it would break the tension hanging between them.

She appeared mortified, her cheeks filled with red. She dipped her head, lay a graceful hand over her brow, as if doing her best to disappear. “That didn’t come out right.”

Aware of the watching eyes of everyone present, he offered an easy chuckle. “Apparently.”

A few laughs sounded around the table.

Someone even made a comment about how the size of an elevator simply wasn’t conducive to a good volleyball game.

“Unless we’re talking about a handheld game,” someone else interjected.

To him, they were just disembodied voices in a crowded room. His eyes stayed on the pretty lady who’d captured his attention the previous day. The one who was now doing her best to avoid looking at him. “It’s all right to misspeak now and then, you know.”

She looked up at him, her face tight, the brown eyes narrowed. “Forget what I said. What I mean is, I’ve seen you before.”

“How could I forget?” He smiled at her, coming a little closer to her seat, and taking her hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Miss...”

Her hand trembled, and as she tilted her face to look at him, a silken lock of her upswept hair fell into her face. He found the sight captivating.

Someone cleared their throat. “I see you’ve met my daughter, Eve.”

He jerked his head around, and saw Franklin there, looking on. Releasing her hand, he studied his mentor, whose face was unreadable. “This is your daughter?”

Franklin nodded in response.

Turning back to her, he met her curious eyes. “Pleased to meet you, again, Miss Franklin. I’m Darius Winstead—an old friend of your father’s.”

In a moment, her expression changed from curiosity to anger. Her lovely brows furrowed, her sweet little painted mouth twisted into a scowl. In an outraged whisper, she said, “You! You’re the old friend?”

Not wanting to rile her any further, he stepped back. “Yes, I guess I am.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, as if becoming aware of the other people in the room. Blowing out a loud sigh, she folded her arms over her chest and turned toward the center of the table. She was obviously angry about something. But rather than say anything else, and risk a shouting match with her in front of the people he would soon lead, he rounded the table and took a seat in an empty leather chair across from her. She cut her eyes at him, a brief gesture that communicated her desire to either slap him, or let the air out of his tires, or both. He couldn’t tell and he didn’t want to find out.

So, the gorgeous woman from the elevator was the old man’s daughter. He never would have guessed it, having only seen pictures of her as a child scattered around Franklin’s office. What really upset him, though, was the way she reacted when he’d introduced himself. Why was she so annoyed that he called her father a friend?

Franklin stood behind the chair at the head of the table, and called the meeting to order. Soon the old man had called on the board secretary to read aloud the minutes of the last meeting. Darius knew he should probably pay attention to what was being said, but this was the part of business that bored him into a coma-like state. When he looked across the table at a tight-faced Eve, he saw her drumming the eraser end of a sharpened pencil on the tabletop. At least he wasn’t the only person struggling to stay awake.

To keep his eyelids from growing any heavier, he took a moment to look around the room. It was a very modern space, with soft gray walls and matching carpet. One wall was similar to the one in Franklin’s office, all glass, and looked out onto Trade Street. The other three walls were hung with framed magazine and newspaper articles about FTI, as well as a few pieces of colorful abstract art. The table they were sitting around was long and rectangular, made of glossy polished mahogany or some other dark wood. The twenty or so people present were all sitting in chairs the same shade of dark brown leather, with padded armrests. He shifted in his seat. It wasn’t as comfy as the memory foam one upstairs, but the slight discomfort might be just enough to keep him awake.

He heard Franklin call his daughter’s name and ask her to summarize the past month’s financial reports. She stood, tugging at the hem of the sheath dress. An aide walked over and turned on the projector set up in front of the room’s only blank wall. As the aide operated a laptop slide show, Eve pushed the wayward lock of hair away from her face and began to speak. Angling herself away from him and facing more toward her father, she spoke about profits and losses, overhead and the other particulars of the company budget with confidence. Watching her, it was pretty obvious she knew what she was talking about, and was likely damn good at her job. Why was Franklin so sure she wasn’t ready for the position of CEO? From where he sat, she seemed altogether capable and intelligent.

Once the slide show and her presentation came to an end, she sat down again. Impressed with both her body itself and her body of knowledge, Darius kept his eyes on her for the rest of the meeting.

Finally, mercifully, the meeting came to an end. Most of the people in the room filtered out, but Darius remained, along with Franklin and his daughter. The old man, who’d stood as the board members exited, sat down again. Eve remained in her seat, and they both looked in his direction. Taking the hint, he got up and moved down to the seat Mrs. Franklin had been occupying, with the old man between them.

Franklin started. “Eve, I...”

She cut him off. “Please excuse me, Daddy, but I would really like to know what qualifies your so-called ‘old friend’ to run this company. What kind of experience does he have that I don’t?” She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table.

Darius heard the challenge in her voice. “Straight to the point, I see. I like that.”

She pursed her lips. “Then why don’t you answer my question, Mr. Winstead?”

So it’s like that. She was going to get formal with him, condescendingly. That was fine. He liked a little spark of excitement in his life. If she wanted to play the game that way, he had no qualms about laying it all out on the table. He sat back in his chair, laced his fingers in front of him. “Please, call me Darius. As for my qualifications, I hold a bachelor of science in computer science, and an MBA as well as a master’s in information technologies. I interned here at FTI in the nineties, owned my own software company, Winstead Development, in the early two-thousands. I invented the first smartphone operating system, sold it and for the past six years I’ve been enjoying a pretty sweet retirement.” He cocked his head to one side. “Does that answer your question?”

Silence.

Her dark lashes fluttered in time with her rapid blinking, the surprise evident on her face. Her cherry-red lips hung just slightly open.

Franklin looked on without a word, although the slight upturn of his mouth gave away his amusement.

The room grew so quiet, he could hear her breathing. For a moment, he watched the rise and fall of her chest as she leaned close over the tabletop.

“Ms. Franklin? Have I sufficiently satisfied your curiosity?” He flexed his fingers.

Closing her mouth, she swallowed. Making direct eye contact with him, she nodded. “Yes, Mr. Winstead. I’d say you have.” She sat up, and pressed her back against the chair’s tall backrest.

Franklin pulled a handkerchief from an inner pocket of his sport jacket, dabbed at the moisture gathering on his brow. “Good. Now I feel I can leave you two alone to get acquainted.” He stood, retrieved his briefcase from the floor and made his way toward the open door. “You two play nice.” With that, he exited.

Darius looked across the table at his new colleague. She’d let her head fall back against the top of the backrest, her eyes focused on the ceiling tiles above them. She used her feet to swivel the chair a few degrees left, then a few degrees right.

He watched her for a few moments. Something was obviously on her mind, but with the bit of tension still hanging in the air, he didn’t know if he should ask.

But finally curiosity got the better of him. “Do you think we can get along, Ms. Franklin? Can we keep this professional?” Before the last word left his lips, he knew it was going to be mighty hard to keep things that way with her. She was a beauty, full of fire and grace, like a Miles Davis recording.

She straightened, looked at him with a slight frown. “Don’t worry. Professionalism is my area of expertise. You are standing between me and my destiny, but I’m not petty.”

He circled the table until he was standing next to her chair. “I don’t doubt it, but that’s not what I meant.”

Her expression changed, and she looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, then.”

“Sure you do. From the moment I stepped into that elevator with you yesterday, you’ve been on my mind.” He knew he was taking a risk, but he couldn’t resist. With his fingertips, he touched the edge of her hairline, brushing back the hair that had fallen over her forehead once again. It was just as soft to his touch as he’d imagined it would be. “There’s something between us. Something incredible.”

The smallest of sighs slipped from her lips, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Shifting in her seat to draw away from his touch, she shook her head. “Let’s not even go down that road.”

He wasn’t about to let Ms. Sassy Mouth squirm her way out of this one. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t feel it?” He touched her again, this time brushing his fingertips against her cheek.

The brief contact was enough to get her to shift again, then stand. When she did, her body was mere centimeters from his. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t date people I work with, Mr. Winstead.”

He smiled. Her mouth was telling him what she didn’t do, but what she hadn’t said resonated with him even more. She hadn’t denied her attraction to him, she’d only dismissed it as irrelevant. He eased nearer to her, closing the gap between them until his chest grazed hers. “I can’t just ignore how you make me feel. But call me Darius, and we can agree to disagree on this.”

“We both know that if I called you by your first name, I’d be encouraging you.” She raised her eyes to meet his, and for a moment, he saw the passion there. Her lips parted, as if she had more to say.

Of their own accord, his fingertips found the softness of her cheek once more. Whatever she was going to say next was muffled as he pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was short, fleeting, but unbearably sweet. Her mouth was softer and more intoxicating than anything he’d ever encountered. When she pulled away, he could feel the buttery remnants clinging to his lips—traces of her cherry lipstick left behind.

In the aftermath, she took a step back but didn’t break eye contact with him. To his mind, she looked conflicted, as if she couldn’t decide what to do or say next.

“Have a good day, Darius.”

The soft-spoken words still hanging in the air, she gathered her purse and slipped from the room.