Читать книгу Corporate Cowboy - Pamela Bauer - Страница 11

“Uh-oh. You weren’t able to convince them, were you?”

Austin Bennett breezed past his secretary, ignoring the stack of messages she held in her outstretched hand. “Six to one in favor of the dude ranch.”

“Oh, my,” Jean trailed after him, distress adding more lines to her already creased face. “I thought at least Henry…” she trailed off.

Austin groaned as he sank into his leather chair. No, not even his father had been on his side. Not that Austin had expected paternal support on this—or any other—issue. He had learned long ago that if he was going to make it in the family business it wouldn’t be because his father had made it easy for him. Quite the opposite. Even after ten years working for Bennett Industries, Austin had never lost the feeling that he needed to prove himself to his father.

And lately Austin felt like a lone salmon swimming upstream. Even employees he had handpicked had suddenly became his father’s advocates and his adversaries.

Austin shouldn’t have expected anything different. Getting along with others had never been easy for him. According to his mother, the very first time he had crawled into a group of toddlers at the day-care center he had created a fuss. The results of grabbing a squeaking rubber hammer from a ten-month-old pacifist were all it took for him for him to realize the world didn’t always look favorably upon those who went after what they wanted in life.

And Austin did go after what he wanted, often with a relentless determination he had learned from his father. It was why the two of them had always been at odds. They were two of a kind and because his father had started in an entry-level position in the furniture manufacturing firm, Austin too—even with an MBA in management—had to work his way up the ranks. With a man like Henry Bennett at the helm, it had been an uphill battle. But he’d made it. He may have stepped on a few toes along the way, but he had done what was necessary to be a success.

There was no shortage of profits for the company or its employees. What Austin lacked in people skills he made up for in acumen. And if his employees grumbled about the long hours and demanding work schedule, they never complained when he handed them their paychecks.

Even his father was the first to admit that Austin had a talent for making money. His diversifying the family firm had increased profits enormously, allowing them to expand. Now instead of one plant in suburban Chicago there were five, scattered about the Midwest. Employees of Bennett Industries not only received good wages and benefits, but profit sharing in a company that was rapidly becoming one of the most successful firms in the country. Yet despite the monetary rewards, the turnover rate was high—so high that the board of directors had come up with a solution to the problem. A management seminar designed to teach Bennett employees cutting-edge team-building techniques.

Austin had argued long and hard against the idea when it had been originally proposed and he still lobbied against it. At today’s board meeting when he had been overruled in his objections to the plan, he had announced that he wouldn’t be able to attend the seminar. His father had told him, in no uncertain terms, that it wasn’t optional.

Austin swiveled his chair until he was facing the plate glass windows, looking out across the Chicago skyline. It didn’t matter that he had the title of CEO. His father still ran Bennett Industries.

“It’s a foolish idea,” he mumbled.

“It might not be as bad you think,” Jean consoled him in her motherly way.

“I understand the psychology of sending employees on a trip to get away from the office, but why would anyone turn down a chance to sip cocktails in the Cayman Islands to play cowboy on the prairies of North Dakota?” he pondered as he stared at the city. “The prairie!” he repeated in disbelief. He twirled around so that he was once again facing her. “Have you ever been to North Dakota, Jean?”

“No, but I hear it’s quite lovely.”

He grunted. “If you like flat land and grass. When I was a kid my aunt and uncle took me to visit a cousin in Montana. Six of us in a station wagon loaded down with suitcases and games, seeing the USA in our Chevrolet.” He chuckled sardonically. “We drove for hours and saw nothing but a couple of grain elevators and a few clapboard buildings.”

“It probably just seemed that way because you were a kid. Besides, that was a long time ago. I’m sure it’s changed since then. I believe I read recently that very little of the tall grass prairie remains.”

“Well, maybe the tall grass isn’t there, but the land is still flat.”

“At least you’ll have peace and quiet. And according to the brochure the accommodations are quite plush,” she said in her usual optimistic way. “The Triple J has an excellent reputation. You saw the profile they did on that news program.”

“Yes, and unfortunately so did George Harbison, which is why he brought the idea to the board. He says it’s just what we need. Team building.” The words were muttered with disgust. “I can’t believe that roughing it out on the prairie is going to foster anything but irritability.”

Jean hid her smile. “I wouldn’t call spending five nights in a private room with a hot tub roughing it. I’m sure it’s not going to be that bad.”

“It’s a ranch, Jean, not a hotel. And I don’t see how pretending to be cowboys is going to teach any skills useful in the corporate world.”

“I believe the brochure called it experiential learning. You learn to work with others in risk-tasking situations and ideally, learn about yourself.”

Again Austin shook his head. “We need management strategies, not this touchy-feely crap. If you ask me, it’s pouring money down the drain. Why can’t everyone else see it for what it is?”

“Oh, but it’s not wasted money. Didn’t you read the part about there being a money-back guarantee? They’re so certain of their results, they’ll refund your money if you’re not satisfied.”

“Time is not refundable. I’m going to lose a week of work and I don’t think it’s a good idea to allow fifteen of our managers to be away from the office at the same time.”

“You didn’t think it was a problem for all of them to be gone at the same time when they were all at the sales conference in Phoenix last winter,” she reminded him.

“That was different.” He loosened his tie and undid the top button on his shirt. “Thank goodness for laptops and fax machines. At least I will be able to stay abreast of things through the Internet.”

“Laptop? Isn’t that what this whole program is about—getting away from the phones and computers and fax machines? I thought I read that you aren’t supposed to bring any work with you?”

“Jean, you know I go nowhere without my laptop. Do you realize how bored I would be if I didn’t bring work?”

“I believe the Triple J has a full schedule for you.”

He grunted. “I’m not going to do this cowboy number. If I have to get on a horse and take a trail ride to show everyone I’m a team member, fine. But while they’re all out mending fences or rounding up cattle or whatever else it is they’re going to rope people into doing, I’ll be in my room with my laptop.”

Jean arched one eyebrow. “But the point of the getaway is to do just that—get away from the stress of your regular work.”

“Work isn’t a stress for me, Jean. It’s people who give me stress. And I’m taking them with me.”

“Well, hopefully you’ll come home with a better understanding of those people.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You think this corporate retreat center is a good idea, don’t you?”

“It’s not my place to advise you, Austin. But I do know that I’ve been with this firm for almost forty years and never have I seen a man who works as much as you do. Even if you get nothing else out of this, at least it will be time away from the office.”

“I’d rather be here.”

“Austin, you can’t work twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Everyone needs a break from the office,” she chastised him gently in a tone only she could use. “Working the hours you do leaves little time for recreation. You haven’t had a vacation in four years—and don’t tell me that trip to Hong Kong with that fashion model was a vacation. You would have never gone had you not been able to close the deal with the fabric suppliers.”

“I went to Jamaica last month.”

“Business.”

“London last April.”

“Business. Austin, you need to give your mind a rest. You know what you should do? Take a few extra days when this retreat is over and visit those cousins in Montana. Forget about work. Forget about people. Just be free.”

Austin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I know how not to work, Jean.”

“Then maybe it’s time you learned. Wouldn’t it be nice to retrace that car trip you took as a child—go visit those cousins, see how they’ve changed? I bet they’d love to hear from you.”

“I haven’t seen them in over twenty years,” he said wistfully. “I’m not sure they’re even in Montana anymore.”

“Want me to do some checking?”

“No, I shouldn’t even be gone for the week at the ranch.”

Then, as she had done so often since his mother had died, Jean sat down across from him and leaned her arms on his desk, her voice taking on a familiar maternal tone. “You’re working too hard the way it is, Austin. I’m afraid one of these days I’m going to get a call saying you’ve worked yourself to exhaustion. Why don’t I look up the names of those cousins? At least you’ll have it with you and after the visit to the ranch if you find you want to take some extra time, you can do it.”

He reached across the desk to gently squeeze her arm. “All right. Get me their phone numbers.” He gave her a smile, then flipped open his daily planner. “About my plane reservation…”

“Jan in travel said everyone’s leaving at one-thirty on Sunday afternoon.”

“I don’t want to go that early in the day.”

“You’re supposed to arrive as a group.” There was admonition in her voice.

“A few hours shouldn’t make a difference.”

“But the idea is to begin this training as a team. That’s the key to success.”

“And when has anything I touched not been a success?” he retorted with a devilish grin. “Book me on the last available flight that day.”

Before Jean could protest, the door flew open. Austin knew there was only one person who would be brave enough to enter without knocking. He glanced up to see Daphne Delattre sweep into the room in her usual dramatic way. She moved with the grace expected of a runway model, not a hair out of place, not a smudge in her perfectly made-up face. She ignored Jean and went straight to Austin, brushing her lips across his cheek.

Austin didn’t miss the way his secretary cringed at the action. After a polite greeting, Jean exited, leaving Austin alone with the high fashion model, but not before casting him a disapproving look. Ever since the day his father had introduced him to Daphne, Jean had felt it was her duty to warn Austin of the dangers of a woman like Daphne Delattre.

Austin had told his secretary on several different occasions that the model was his father’s choice of companions for him, not his. Judging by her attitude, she didn’t believe him.

Daphne perched herself on the corner of his desk, deliberately exposing the slender thigh of one leg. “Why are you scowling? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“I’m not scowling,” Austin answered. “I always look like this when I’m working.”

“Then you should stop working and take me to lunch.”

Austin ignored the flirtatious pose and glanced at his daily planner. “Can’t do that. Schedule’s full.”

“You must be able to get free for at least an hour?”

“As long as I’m in the building I’m never free,” he answered, grimacing as he ran a hand around the back of his neck in an attempt to work free a kink that was cramping a muscle.

She immediately hopped down off the desk and pushed away his hand, replacing it with hers. “Here. Let me.”

Austin didn’t protest. If there was one quality he appreciated in Daphne it was her therapeutic touch. “You know you went into the wrong profession. You should have been a masseuse.”

She harrumphed in disagreement. “So are you going to tell me what has these muscles as hard as a rock?”

“No.”

She made a sound of disgust. “What you need is some time away from this place.”

“You sound just like Jean today.”

“Well, for once I agree with her. You need a break.”

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that’s exactly what I’m going to get.”

Her fingers stopped massaging and she turned to face him. “You’re taking a vacation?” Hope danced in her eyes.

He chuckled. “No, a business trip.”

“When is it? I have some time coming up. Maybe I could arrange my schedule and come with you.”

Austin never mixed business and pleasure. “No, that won’t work.”

She stopped her kneading. “You don’t want me there?”

There was a little catch in her voice, a ploy that was becoming very familiar to Austin. Daphne was not above using every feminine wile she possessed to get her way. At first Austin had found it amusing, but lately it had begun to annoy him. She played games, which was the kiss of death for any relationship with a woman as far as Austin was concerned.

About the only good thing he could say about a trip to this ranch in North Dakota was that it would put a little distance between him and Daphne. Lately she had started assuming their relationship was more serious than it was. It didn’t help that his father encouraged her.

Neither one of them wanted to accept the fact that Austin wasn’t ready to settle down with any woman. His father and Daphne had become a tag team whose goal was to get him to the altar.

Austin sighed. Maybe getting out of Chicago for a week wasn’t such a bad idea.

KATHLEEN CHARLOTTE JUDD was not a stubborn person, although she had every right to be. It was in the Judd genes. Her grandfather, her father and both of her brothers had stubborn streaks that could try the patience of a saint. Fortunately, Kacy took after her mother’s side of the family and although she could be a bit headstrong at times, the folks around Cavalier, ND, knew she had a sweet disposition which was difficult to undermine. She was also good under pressure and enjoyed working with people, which is why the Judds had put her in charge of public relations for the Triple J.

Only today she was not feeling very sweet. It had rained six of the last seven days. If the sun didn’t shine soon, she would get downright cranky and not just because she needed its rays to boost her endorphins. The creeks were swollen, the ground was muddy and fifteen people were expecting to spend the next four days in the outdoors, riding, roping and rounding up cattle. It was enough to make any cowgirl edgy.

Kacy, born and raised on the ranch, was accustomed to working through not only rain, but snow, sleet and ice. The guests at the Triple J, however, didn’t have her years of experience with the elements. They were urban cowboys who wanted to experience life on the ranch, which was why unless the rain stopped, the upcoming week would be one big muddy challenge.

Because it was wet, the opening dinner was served in the dining room instead of outside around a campfire. All of the staff at the Triple J wore western wear, including Kacy and her sister, Suzy, who had on long denim skirts and fringed leather vests.

Halfway through dinner, her brother Dusty said, “Someone has to go back to Grand Forks to pick up the last guest.”

“What last guest?” Kacy asked warily.

He didn’t so much as blink. “The one that’s coming in at nine-thirty.”

“This isn’t the entire group?” she asked, surveying the crowd in the dining room.

“Nope. There’s one more coming and someone has to go get him at the airport.”

She set her fork down and fixed him with an inquisitive glare. “Since when do we make special trips for one?”

“Since it’s the CEO—Mr. Austin Bennett himself.”

Kacy groaned. “You should have told him to rent a car and drive out here if he couldn’t come with the others.”

Dusty clicked his tongue. “That’s what Dad said.”

“Well, for once I agree with Dad.”

He rested his arm along the back of her chair and said, “Aw, come on, Kacy. You know you don’t mean that. If you did you wouldn’t be in charge of PR around here. You’re the one who’s always telling me how important it is to be accommodating.”

Normally, Kacy wouldn’t have argued with her brother, but today she was feeling in no mood to cater to anyone, especially not a man in a suit. “I’m sorry, Dusty, you’ll have to forgive me, but I just don’t feel very accommodating today.”

“Aw, Kace, I know it’s been a bad day, what with you getting that letter and all,” he sympathized. “But you can’t blame all the suits for what one man did.”

She didn’t. But getting a Dear John—or a “Dear Joan” letter, as her sister Suzy had called it—made her feel as if she were entitled to be just a bit irrational today. “Gran always said that on any given day you’d find at least one Judd holding a grudge against someone or something. I guess today’s my day.”

Dusty groaned. “Dad should never have encouraged you to go to New York.”

But her father had urged her to go. Since childhood she had dreamed of living anywhere but on the ranch. She had been consumed with a need to explore the world outside of North Dakota, to soak up all the excitement she knew had to be happening in the big city. As soon as she had graduated college with her degree in art history, she went in search of that dream.

She took a job in an art gallery where she discovered that the life she had fantasized was not all she expected it to be. As she gradually became less enchanted with the bright lights of the city, she began to realize that although she loved art, what she really wanted was to be with her horses in the wide open spaces of North Dakota. After three years she had packed up her things and moved home. Her only regret about leaving the city was that she had to leave the man she loved.

At least she thought she had been in love with Steven Delancey. Now she knew that she should have ended their relationship when she had told him she was quitting her job and moving back to North Dakota.

He hadn’t tried to convince her to change her mind. Instead he had acted relieved that she had made the decision to leave New York, telling her he would be able to get more work done if she wasn’t around to distract him. Kacy knew now that that’s all she had been—a distraction. An up-and-coming lawyer wanting to make partner in his law firm, Steven was focused—too focused. For him, work was more than a way to earn a living. It was an obsession.

No woman would ever be number one in Steven’s life. Work would always come first, because his whole life centered around his profession. A wife and children would always take a back seat.

It was not the kind of life Kacy wanted—to be second fiddle to a job. And she did want marriage and a family—something she wasn’t sure would ever be on Steven’s agenda.

Six months ago she hadn’t wanted to admit that it was over. Now she could hardly believe it had taken her this long to let it go. The only reason their relationship had lasted as long as it did was because she had made it work, not because of any effort on his part. That’s why when his Dear Joan letter came she felt so angry. He was the one calling it quits when she was the one who had done all the work.

Kacy had not been happy in New York, not just because of what had happened with Steven. She knew now that it had been foolish of her to think that working in a concrete and glass world would make her happy. She needed open spaces and fresh air. For that’s what was in her blood—the smell of leather and dust, the sight of cattle bunched in the corner of a pasture, waves of buffalo grass and sage, and sunsets that seemed to go on forever making one realize just how small a speck anyone is on this earth. Give her a man in jeans and boots any day over any of the suits pressing the city pavement. She preferred to live in a world of Levi’s and leather rather than wool and silk.

“Didn’t anybody tell this suit that the reason the program works is because it’s a team effort? I say let him rent a car and drive out here himself,” she grumbled.

“Kacy, be reasonable.”

“Reasonable as in get in the van and go get him?” she asked dryly.

“Doesn’t it beat reciting poetry around the campfire?”

“It’s too wet for a campfire,” she reminded him.

“Then we’ll have to have poetry around the fireplace.” He grinned. “Come on. Be a sport. Other than the orientation meeting, you won’t be missed this evening.”

Kacy knew what he said was true. She was the public relations person at the Triple J which meant she usually saw to it that guests were comfortable at all times. Her other job was to give riding lessons and lead trail rides.

“Please say you’ll do it,” he begged.

She tried to give him the stubborn look the Judds were noted for, but failed. “All right. But I’m not taking that big old honkin’ van. I’ll drive my pickup.”

“You can’t pick up a CEO in that beat-up old pickup!”

Kacy didn’t appreciate anyone referring to Bertha as either “old” or “beat-up.” “Do you want me to do it or not?”

Dusty handed her a white placard with “The Triple J” written across the front in large black letters. “You probably won’t need this, but better take it anyway.”

“You’re lucky I have such a strong sense of family duty,” she mumbled as she took the placard from him.

On her way out she grabbed a slicker from the coat room. It was a good thing because before she had reached the airport, rain fell in a steady downpour. She pulled up in front of the terminal in the loading zone, looking for signs of a suit. No one waited near the entrance.

She felt her muscles tense. For three years she had made airports a regular stop on her agenda. Her clothes had spent more time in her suitcase than her closet. Buying art for the gallery, arranging for showings, traveling cross country had all sounded glamorous to her at one point in her life.

Now she knew better. She was grateful she was no longer earning frequent flyer miles. There were no more long hours spent trying to convince a temperamental artist to agree to a showing, no more frustrating conversations with fussy patrons with outrageous demands, no more dates with men whose only goal in life is to get ahead in the business world.

Instead of worsted wool and linen, she could wear denim and leather. She was done trying to be a sophisticated city woman. In her heart she was a cowgirl and there was no point in pretending to be anything else.

Not that it mattered. Her days of doing what she was supposed to do were over…except of course when it came to the ranch. To keep the Triple J in the family, she would do anything, including cater to stuffy businessmen who didn’t have a clue what it really meant to be a rancher.

Knowing she couldn’t stay in the loading zone indefinitely, she drove into the parking lot. Before getting out, she buttoned up the slicker, cursing the fact that she had to get out in the pouring down rain to go find this guy. She grabbed the square Triple J placard and made a dash to the door.

It was nearly deserted inside the airport except for a couple of airline personnel. Kacy’s eyes scanned the small waiting room and saw a man leaning up against the wall, his back to her as he spoke on the telephone. He wore a suit and carried a briefcase. Kacy figured it had to be Austin Bennett, the CEO of Bennett Industries.

As she walked toward him she could hear the heels of her boots clack against the floor. She expected the sound would cause him to turn around and look to see who was walking toward him. It didn’t. He just kept on talking, loudly enough so that anyone in the area could have heard his end of the conversation. It didn’t take Dr. Ruth to figure out that he was having a lovers’ quarrel.

When she heard him say, “Of course I care about you, Daphne.” Kacy’s boots came to a halt.

Before she could take a step backward, she heard, “It’s not a question of my feelings for you…Please don’t cry. Daphne, stop. Do you think I want to spend a week with people who say yee-haw more than they do hello? Daphne?”

He pulled the receiver away from his ear and stared into the earpiece. “Damn,” he muttered, then hung the phone up.

Without even seeing the man’s face or speaking to him Kacy knew she wasn’t going to like him. In a few phrases he seemed to have confirmed her worst feelings about men in suits. She couldn’t help but wonder if Daphne was his girlfriend or his mistress.

She glanced at his hands. No rings on any of his fingers. A flash of gold showed beneath a crisp white cuff whenever he moved those hands. Probably a Rolex watch. It would go along with the Italian leather shoes and the Armani suit. And then there was his fragrance. Kacy had walked past the men’s counter in Macy’s department store enough times to know that it was not a cheap bottle of splash-on from the drugstore.

No, this man had money. And as much as she hated to admit it, he did smell good. Damn good. A man to avoid, Kacy thought pragmatically, although she didn’t think she needed to worry about Mr. Bennett tossing his charm her way. She didn’t exactly attract the corporate type nowadays.

Suddenly aware of her presence he turned and gave her an intense stare that told her he wasn’t the least embarrassed that she had overheard his conversation. If anything, that gaze accused her of invading his privacy. Some women might have blushed or looked away. Kacy might have, had she been in New York City or Chicago or some other corporate metropolis, but not here. Not on her own turf.

“Yee-haw.” She held up the placard with the Triple J logo on it.

His eyes—deep blue and penetrating—narrowed, making a very thorough appraisal of her figure, from her head covered by her felt cowboy hat down to her booted toes. As they traveled down the rain soaked slicker, she was grateful that he couldn’t see the open slit in her skirt, for she was certain those eyes would have lingered a moment on the expanse of leg it revealed. She hadn’t reached the age of twenty-six without learning how to recognize what was in a man’s eyes. As much as she’d like to give him an icy glare, she stepped toward him, hand outstretched.

“You must be Mr. Bennett. I’m Kacy Judd. Welcome to North Dakota.”

He took her hand, his blue eyes continuing to pierce hers with an intensity that made every red curl beneath her hat want to straighten. Just as quickly as he had clasped her hand, he dropped it, causing Kacy to wonder if he had experienced the same jolt as she had when their skin had touched.

“Where’s your luggage?” she asked.

He made a sound of derision. “It’s lost. Apparently it didn’t make the connecting flight in Minneapolis.”

“Oh.” Inwardly, Kacy smiled. It served him right. “No need to worry. I’m sure someone from the airlines will bring it to the ranch when it gets here. Until then, you can pick up a few things in the Triple J’s western wear shop.”

From the look on his face she doubted that he wanted to wear anything that had the word “western” connected to it. He didn’t look happy and as they passed the baggage claim area Kacy gave the clerk a sympathetic glance. No doubt Mr. Austin Bennett had made sure she understood his predicament.

Judging by the look on the CEO’s face, Kacy thought it would be wise for anyone to avoid talking to the man if possible. Not a friendly word had dropped from his lips yet. She could only imagine what the long ride back to the ranch was going to be like. Everything about his body language told her he didn’t want to be here.

When her father and brothers had announced they wanted to convert the ranch to a conference center for professionals, Kacy had laughed out loud. Despite the fact that one of her brothers had a business degree and the other had one in psychology, neither one excelled in the public relations department.

Which was why they needed her to be a part of the family business. When it came to smoothing ruffled feathers, Kacy was a pro. After three years in New York and encountering what she thought had to be the crankiest people on the face of the earth, working with professionals hoping to find better methods of communicating was a piece of cake.

Only this piece of cake looked as if someone could break a tooth if they tried to do anything but stay out of his way. He was going to be a challenge and although it would be easy to avoid Austin Bennett, Kacy was not one to run away from a job she was supposed to do. One way or another, she’d get this city slicker saying “yee-haw” before the week was over.