Читать книгу Wrong Groom, Right Bride - Patricia Kay - Страница 9

Simon was impressed by Chloe’s refusal to take the money he’d offered. He’d always suspected the Hopewell money had nothing to do with her engagement to Todd, even as his mother insisted the money had to be an influence.

“After all, the girl comes from nothing,” she’d said more than once. “She couldn’t help but be dazzled by our money.”

Well, she wasn’t dazzled. And it would give Simon a great deal of satisfaction to make sure his mother knew it. Not that knowing of Chloe’s integrity would change his mother’s mind about her. Simon actually understood where his mother was coming from, even as he abhorred her inability to rise above her own humble beginnings. Larissa would happily die rather than have her so-called friends know about the way she’d grown up. In her skewed way of thinking, she felt she had to avoid any contact with lesser mortals lest she be tarred by the same brush.

It was sad, Simon thought, that even after all these years, his mother was still so basically insecure. Yet for all his understanding of its origins, Larissa’s continued snobbery exasperated him, especially when it was directed at someone like Chloe, who had overcome tougher circumstances than Larissa ever had to face.

Simon had also been impressed by Chloe’s dignity. In her shoes, he’d be angry, maybe even vindictive. But if she felt either of those emotions, she had certainly hidden them well.

Christ, his brother was a fool. If the lovely, green-eyed Chloe had belonged to him, Simon would have made sure he hung on to her. And his family be damned! Not that there was anything wrong with Meredith. She was a nice enough person, smart even—she’d been doing a good job as Todd’s assistant—but in Simon’s opinion she couldn’t hold a candle to Chloe. Of course, Meredith’s parents belonged to the Riverton Country Club, and Paul Belson, her father, was the town’s most prominent lawyer.

As he drove to the office—Saturday or not, Simon had work to catch up on—he kept thinking about his brother’s former fiancée. The way she’d treated him so politely yet firmly, the way her determined eyes met his directly when she refused the money, the way she said the Hopewell family owed her nothing.

That’s the reason it bothered him when she said she was leaving Riverton, he decided. Maybe she was more affected by Todd’s desertion than she would have him believe.

Yet she didn’t seem the type to run away. She definitely had given him the impression she was a stand-and-fight young woman—not the kind who would turn tail and run. Even so, something was making her leave Riverton, and Simon wasn’t sure he bought her reasoning. So he would keep tabs on her for a while … just to make sure she really was okay.

He’d just arrived at this decision when he pulled into his parking slot at the company’s headquarters. Glancing over, he spotted Mark DelVecchio’s red Porsche. Mark was his CFO, and like Simon, he often worked on Saturdays. Other than Mark’s car, the security guard’s car and the cleaning crew’s van, the parking lot was empty. Well, Simon didn’t blame his staff for wanting to spend a balmy spring day on the golf course or puttering around their houses. This part of upstate New York could still be experiencing a wintry chill in May—in fact, he could remember a few years back when they’d gotten a late snowfall in early May—so a day in the seventies was one to savor.

“Hey, Russ, how’s it going?” he said to the security guard as he walked past his station by the front entrance.

“Good, Mr. Hopewell, good. How about you?”

“I’m great. How’s Erin?” The guard’s fourteen-year-old daughter had fallen earlier in the month and broken her arm.

“She’s doin’ okay. Hates rehab, though. Complains about it constantly.”

“Don’t blame her.” Simon remembered his own stint with rehab after a soccer injury in college. “Physical therapy can be tough.” He smiled. “Give your family my best.”

“I’ll do that.”

Pleasantries over, Simon headed for the stairs. Bypassing the elevator, he jogged up to the third floor. He was whistling as he walked down the hall toward his corner office.

“Hey, Simon!” Mark DelVecchio called out.

Stopping, Simon looked into Mark’s office. Dressed in khaki shorts, a brown golf shirt and deck shoes, Mark leaned back in his leather swivel chair with his feet propped on his desk. “You should be home with Deanna and the girls today,” Simon said.

“Yeah, I know, but I wanted to go over the budget forecast again.”

Simon didn’t like the somber note in Mark’s voice.

“Look, Simon, I know you won’t be happy about this, but I’ve looked at everything, and I’m afraid there’s no way we can pay bonuses this year.”

Simon nodded unhappily. He’d arrived at the same conclusion. “Maybe if the contract with Petry comes through …”

“I don’t think it’s going to.”

Simon hated to admit it, but Mark was probably right. The contract that had once looked so promising now looked as if it might bite the dust. And that disappointment could be laid directly at Todd’s door. If he’d been here the way he was supposed to be to coddle the prospect along—after all, he was the one they knew— maybe the outcome would be different. “The department heads count on those bonuses,” he said, although Mark knew that as well as Simon did. “They’ll be really upset.”

“I know, but it’s either that or put off retooling indefinitely.”

Retooling of the plant was essential, Simon felt. His father had ignored the signs of change and refused to face facts. It wasn’t until after his death that Simon had been able to even talk to the board of directors about modernizing the plant. They weren’t happy about spending the kind of money necessary but had finally agreed the company wouldn’t be able to compete in the new global marketplace unless they did. “We can’t put off the retooling,” he finally said.

For the rest of the afternoon, he studied the company’s financial reports, his department heads’ budgets, the salary forecasts. He looked at the latest bills from the insurance underwriters—rates for both health and life insurance for the employees and their families and fire and hazard insurance for the buildings and equipment had increased again.

His reluctant conclusion was that although the company was in good shape, in order to meet their long-term goals, some sacrifices were unavoidable.

Simon put his head in his hands.

Sometimes he hated his job.

Chloe hadn’t been able to get Simon Hopewell’s visit out of her mind. For the next few days, she kept thinking about him. He and Todd were so different. Yes, they both had black hair and the square-jawed look of all the Hopewells, but the resemblance ended there. Todd’s eyes were a bright blue, and most of the time they betrayed exactly what he was thinking, whereas Simon’s eyes were an enigmatic, cool gray. Contemplative, serious eyes.

Todd smiled easily and often—was charming and friendly. Simon was just the opposite—almost stern in his quiet, businesslike demeanor. He rarely smiled and, according to Todd, had no sense of humor at all. Of course, Chloe thought wryly, Todd had made other pronouncements that had turned out not to be true.

Todd liked to spend money. All through their courtship, he was constantly buying gifts and taking her to expensive places. Simon, on the other hand—again, according to Todd—kept an iron fist on the purse strings.

Despite this, Simon had generously offered to take care of all the wedding expenses, and his eyes were kind when he made his offer. Certainly Chloe never felt as if he were condescending to her the way his mother had. It had almost seemed like a point of honor with him.

What would Simon Hopewell think if he knew about the baby she was carrying? Would he be upset? Would he think she had tried to trap Todd? Maybe so. She hated thinking that might be the case. She almost wished she could tell him.

But that was ridiculous. She could never tell him. Chloe wondered why, suddenly, she felt such a twinge of regret. She told herself it was only because Simon would make such a great uncle, someone her baby could definitely depend upon and look up to.

She did feel regret about the fact there would be a lack of male influence in her baby’s life. Her father’s death, her uncle Phil’s death in Iraq—there would be no Patterson men to count on. And now, because of Todd’s betrayal, there would be no Hopewell men, either.

Well, it couldn’t be helped. What was done was done and could not be undone. Nor did she want it to be. Now that Todd had revealed his true colors, she knew she was better off without him, for the one character trait Chloe valued above all others was honesty. A trait Todd obviously did not possess.

So … good riddance to bad rubbish, as Grandmother Patterson used to say. Chloe and her baby would be just fine on their own. Better than fine. They would be great. But even as she told herself all this, tears slid down her face, and all the doubts and fears she’d thought she’d successfully buried tried to resurface. Angrily, she brushed away the tears. I’m fine. I’m strong. I can do anything.

Her words were an affirmation, one she’d repeated often throughout her life. And just as they had before they made her feel better.

Composed now, she headed for the kitchen.

A nice bowl of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough wouldn’t hurt, either.

Simon put off going to see his mother until Wednesday. He knew it was cowardly, but he was tired of scenes and this one promised to be a doozy. But since there was a board meeting scheduled for Thursday afternoon, he knew he had to tell her the bad news before then. He called the house Wednesday morning and said he planned to drop by in the afternoon if she were going to be home.

“As it happens, my bridge club was changed to yesterday, so I’ll be here,” his mother said.

“I’ll see you around four, then.”

Simon marshaled his arguments on the drive out to the family home. When he pulled into the circular drive in front of the stately three-story colonial, he knew he was as ready as he ever would be to face the coming storm.

“I’ve asked Martha to bring tea into the solarium,” his mother said as she ushered him in. Martha was their longtime housekeeper.

The solarium was Simon’s favorite room in the house. On the east side of the house, morning sun poured in its windows. His mother had filled the room with lots of greenery and dozens of her prized orchids, as well as a fountain and waterfall at one end of the room. Percy, his mother’s pet parrot, occupied a fancy gilded cage in the shaded northwest corner, and Max, her chocolate Lab, could usually be found lying in front of the windows overlooking the river that meandered along the back of their property. Although the rest of the house was furnished with expensive antiques and imported rugs, the solarium was casually and cheerfully filled with bamboo chairs and sofas covered with bright chintz cushions. Dotted around the room were glass-topped side tables and a matching tea wagon. Today, because the day was mild, some of the windows were open, and Simon could hear the snip of the gardener’s shears somewhere nearby.

“I’m glad you called,” Larissa said, settling into her favorite chair by the waterfall. Max slowly got to his feet, stretched and moved over to her side, where he noisily flopped down once more. “I wanted to talk to you about the board meeting, anyway.”

“What about it?”

His mother started to speak, then fell silent as Martha entered the room carrying a large silver tray. She set it down on the tea wagon, then wheeled the wagon close to where his mother was seated. The tray was loaded with a silver teapot, creamer, sugar bowl, cups and saucers, small plates and a platter filled with bite-size sandwiches and a matching cake dish upon which sat what looked like a lemon sponge cake—Simon’s favorite.

He smiled at Martha. “How’d you know I was coming today?”

Her answering smile was warm. “Don’t you know I’m a mind reader?”

“Among other things,” he said, laughing. Like a saint for putting up with our family all these years.

Once Martha left the room and Simon and his mother had helped themselves to the refreshments, his mother said, “I wanted to discuss the amount of the family allocations before we talked about them at the meeting.”

“That’s why I came today. To talk about them.”

His mother raised her eyebrows. “Oh?” She lifted her teacup and sipped, her blue eyes meeting his over the rim of the cup.

Simon knew there was no percentage in stalling. He drank some of his own tea, then put the cup down and leaned forward. “I wish I had better news for you, Mom. I know what I have to say will not be pleasant to hear, but the bottom line is, there will be no increases to any of the family allocations this year.”

Setting her own cup down a trifle harder than the fine china warranted, his mother’s gaze turned icy. “You’re not serious. You couldn’t possibly be. Of course we must have an increase. Perhaps you don’t need one, but I simply can’t continue on without one, and I know Todd will feel the same way. After all, he’s just been married. It’s outrageous to think he can continue to live on the same amount of money. First of all, he and Meredith cannot live indefinitely in that condo of his.” She said the word condo as if it caused a bad taste in her mouth. “It’s tacky, all that black and red and chrome, just not the kind of place a young woman like Meredith would ever want to live in. I mean, surely you can see that, if anything, Todd will need to have his allocation doubled!”

There were a few things Simon could say to that, like the fact that in addition to his share of profits, Todd also drew a substantial salary from the company, but he’d learned long ago how futile it was to criticize his youngest brother. “I wish the company could afford to give everyone an increase—whether a family member or an employee—but Mark and I have gone over the numbers, and the company is simply not in a position to do so this year.”

“That’s ridiculous. I absolutely must have more to live on. If you think it’s easy to run this big house on what you give me … you’re mistaken. I make sacrifices to do so, and I’m tired of going without. I need at least fifty thousand more this year. I’d like seventy thousand, but I suppose I can manage on fifty.” She sat back in her chair with a satisfied smile. The queen bestowing a favor on one of her subjects. “No, Max,” she added irritably, as the dog nudged her leg. “Cake is bad for you.”

Simon suppressed a sigh. “Mother, the money is not what I give you. As one of the principal owners of Hopewell Enterprises the money is your share of each year’s profits. This year, there is very little profit. What with the new equipment, increases in some other expenses and the coming cost of retooling the plant, we’re stretched to the limit. In fact, your allocation should be cut by more than half. I realize that would cause you enormous hardship, so I plan to ask the board to okay keeping the amount the same as last year’s with the provision that we’ll take another look in six months.”

Larissa’s face paled. “And what does that mean?”

“It means if the changes we’ve made don’t help us improve our bottom line the way we think they will, we might have to decrease the amount you’re getting now.” Simon delivered this news as gently as he could.

“Decrease my share? Decrease it?” She jumped up. “How dare you!” She glared at him. “My own son! I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Why, your father would turn over in his grave if he knew how you were treating me. Weren’t you listening to me? I can’t run this house on what I’m getting now, let alone on less. What’s wrong with you, Simon? I’m beginning to think you’ve lost your mind. Either that or the power of running the company has gone to your head. The board will never go along with this. Never! In fact, I’m going to call Elias as soon as you leave here.”

Elias Whitney was president of the board and, along with Larissa, one of the largest shareholders in the company. He had, also along with Larissa, been against many of the changes Simon had recommended, although, in the end, he’d gone along with them.

Her threat didn’t scare Simon. Elias Whitney might be a longtime family friend, but he was also a shrewd businessman. Ultimately, he would continue to vote for the financial health of the company.

“Hopefully, this situation is only temporary. Just until we pay for all the upgrades.”

“Simon, are you hard of hearing? Have you not heard a word I said? I don’t have enough money to live on unless I get an increase. What do you propose I do? Do you want me to sell this house? Is that it?”

“I know you don’t want to sell the house.” Although why she needed an eight-bedroom home was beyond him. It wasn’t as if any of them still lived with her. Simon had bought his own home ten years ago, and both Todd and Noah had moved out years earlier. “But you could sell some of your stock to tide you over.”

“My stock!” She looked as shocked as if he’d suggested she sell her body. She gave him a hard look. “You have lost your mind. I will never sell my stock. That’s my insurance for the future.”

Simon knew that his father had carried a five-million dollar policy on his life and that most of that money should still be intact. Plus her company stock was worth upward of twenty million dollars, so her future was completely secure. But his mother was angry enough; he didn’t want to make things worse by pointing out the obvious.

For a few moments, he considered offering his mother the money she wanted—not as a loan but as a gift. Simon could afford it. He lived simply and saved more than he spent, and the value of his company stock was equal to hers. But he was reluctant for some reason. If she really did have money problems, he would have gladly helped her out. But she didn’t. She was just spoiled … and had a sense of entitlement. In her mind, since throughout her life as a Hopewell she’d always had whatever she wanted, she always should have whatever she wanted.

Maybe it was past time for her to learn what most people were forced to learn: that there was a difference between want and need.

An hour later, they were still going round and round with the same arguments. Finally, Simon rose. “Look, we’re not getting anywhere like this. I’m sorry you’re so upset, but I can’t change things just because you want them changed. And I think tomorrow’s board meeting will bear me out.” Max had gotten up when Simon did, and Simon rubbed his head.

“You haven’t heard the last of this, Simon. I’m not giving up. I intend to call Elias and then I’ll call all the other board members, as well.”

“That’s your right, Mother.”

“And then we’ll just see who’s boss.”

“Yes, I guess we will.”

She didn’t kiss him goodbye when he left. In fact, she barely said goodbye. He knew she was furious, and he had a feeling she’d be even more furious tomorrow, because he would bet his entire stock portfolio on the fact that the board members would vote with him and Mark. They couldn’t afford not to. Hopewell’s entire future depended on them making sensible financial decisions, and investing now for the future of the company was the most sensible financial decision they could possibly make.

But Simon wasn’t rejoicing in his anticipated victory.

How could he?

His mother might be spoiled. She might have a misguided sense of entitlement. And she might sometimes be unreasonable and petty. But he remembered how she’d always read him a bedtime story, even when she and his father were going out for the evening, how when he was miserable with chicken pox she’d played card games with him for days on end, how she’d beamed with pride when he’d given the valedictory address upon his graduation from college.

No matter what, she was his mother, and he loved her.

As he drove home, he remembered that he’d meant to tell her about his visit to Chloe and how she’d turned down his offer to pay the wedding expenses. But under the circumstances, maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t mentioned Todd’s ex-fiancée. His mother was upset enough.

No sense adding fuel to the fire.