Читать книгу Her Improper Affair - Shea McMaster - Страница 11

It was late morning the next day, after skipping the wedding brunch, when Oswald gathered his laptop case and exited the plane. At least Court insisted on first class seats. It had made the long flight bearable. He’d even managed some sleep, although his dreams had been filled with pictures of Courtney.

Once more he damned himself for what he’d done. Now he couldn’t rid his brain of images of her laid out on the bed, her lightly tanned skin perfectly covering the contours of her perfect body. The hills of her breasts, the flat planes of her stomach, the enticing valley of her cunny. A landscape he could spend his life exploring.

He’d be better off learning to draw or paint so he could capture his vision forever, because he certainly wasn’t going to get another chance to see her like that again.

Standing in line at Customs and Immigration, he wiped a hand over his face trying to clear the images from his mind. The taste and scent of her from his memory. Coffee and whisky on the plane hadn’t succeeded. How did he expect anything else to work?

Thank God for his job. He had that to look forward to. He had a day-long meeting tomorrow and then planned to spend Saturday in the office catching up from the week away. Sunday he’d have to see Courtney again, couldn’t help that, but he could keep a distance between them. Maybe twice the length of his reach would work. As his turn came, he handed over his passport and the required documents filled out on the plane, endured a search of his suitcase, then made his way out to the cab stand. No point in bucking the system.

Oh, and he knew the system. From the time he’d lost his parents and moved in with his Uncle Larry, he’d learned. Not that Larry was such a stickler, but his Uncle Wilton and his wife had made things clear. How the hierarchy worked. The servants also made sure he knew his place. He may have been an Attenborough, but he was clearly the poor relation. A label that had followed him all his life. Even at Eton he’d been clear about his place. The heirs to their family titles had let him know he’d never reach their level.

Their methods hadn’t been so simple as shunning. No, there’d been more brutal lessons. Eventually he’d learned to fight back, and had grown big enough, strong enough, to defend himself and others like him. Eventually they’d left him alone, although to this day the occasional taunt was tossed out when he happened upon one of those old school chums. They liked to remind him he had three cousins and an uncle before him in line to the title. And now his cousins had children, pushing him even further from inheriting the Barony, a small enough title as it was.

As such he’d had to make his own way. To his thinking it made him stronger. He’d built his own impeccable reputation, had his own investments that tallied up to a respectable fortune few beyond his financial advisor knew about. His was also a highly regarded name in the world of mixed martial arts. He had enough clout in that area he could open his own gym and challenge the top ranking ones in the country.

Not that it would have made much difference to the higher social circles. Oh, he was proper enough to even out a dinner party, handsome enough to escort a minor starlet or rising model, but not good enough to hang with them as their cachet rose. There was always someone with better connections, better looking, or more money to take over when the women who’d hung on his arm gained more and more attention.

Hostesses liked him because he was unfailingly polite. He knew the rules of etiquette and never overstepped his bounds or made an ugly scene. Like a well-trained background actor, he never tried to outshine those at the center of attention. Rather he made them look better. Same as properly behaved younger sons had been doing for generations.

Only he was one step beyond that. The only son of a disgraced younger son who’d had the misfortune to marry the daughter of a poor preacher because he’d gotten her pregnant. A girl who thought by catching James Attenborough, youngest brother of Wilton, it would up her station in life. In fact, it had done the opposite. James had been forced to leave university to work to support the new wife with a baby on the way. He hadn’t been good for much and jobs had come and gone, each one lesser than the one before until he’d been working as a laborer on the docks.

Oswald had only been three when his father was killed by a crate that fell as it was being lifted from a cargo ship. Only two years later his mother died in their tiny, dirty apartment at the hands of a lover who’d gotten her into drugs.

Larry had been the only family willing to take him in. Thank God for Larry, the bachelor uncle. Larry had coached him on how to act around his cousins and much older Uncle Wilton who’d barely acknowledged him unless Oswald had done something stupendously stunning at school or on the pitch, whether it be cricket or football. Fortunately Oswald had brains and he’d quickly learned to use them. It didn’t hurt that he had a fair athletic ability, but his brains far exceeded his physical prowess.

Larry’s close friendship with Courtland Robinson had given Oswald a further boost in the world. Court didn’t have a family title, but he had a family business and estate, both going back several centuries. Not nobility, but certainly a force in the business community, and status with the peerage, his clients. Because Court always treated him fairly and with respect, when Drew had shown up at Eton, a little on the small side and a target for bullies, Oswald, four years his senior, had stepped in and quietly provided not only protection, but he’d taught Drew how to defend himself.

The fact Drew had brains even more powerful than Oswald, and an open, friendly personality, had rocketed him up the academic and social scales at school. So when Drew entered university at the start of Oswald’s second year, it made sense for them to share a flat, something both Larry and Court had encouraged.

So, it was only logical that Court had hired Oswald to work summers and breaks at the offices of Lynford. First he’d spent a summer in the warehouses out Tilbury way learning the flow of inventory, the shipping routes, and how to track it all. Then he’d moved to the offices, starting in the mailroom. Just as Courtney would next week. That made him smile to himself. Old Dennis had ruled the mailroom for going on twenty-five years now and wasn’t likely to retire until he lost the use of his hands to arthritis.

When it became clear Oswald had a head for finance, Court had directed his internship through the accounts department. Larry had even found a few thousand pounds to give him for his sixteenth birthday and shown him how to get started investing. He lost enough on his first try that it scared him into approaching one of the upper level boys at school. One who came from a very rich family that also lacked a title. Fortunately, Abraham had a good grasp of money and the markets, and was willing to share what he knew. Abraham still managed most of Oswald’s investments because he lacked the time to do so himself. For now. Soon he’d have the capital to form a partnership with Abraham.

Oswald only had to give Lynford another year, and gladly, but he knew with Drew now stepping into the company full time, and Courtney doing the same, chances of him ever taking control of Lynford were slim. He liked Lynford, and the Robinson family in particular, but he wanted more. He wanted to be the head of his own company. In his mind it was better than holding a hereditary title from the crown. It meant he’d made it on his own, and not on the shoulders of his ancestors. Sticking with Lynford awhile longer hadn’t been a problem. Not until Court had taken him aside the day before the wedding.

“I have a big favor to ask of you,” Court had opened the conversation just before going into the wedding rehearsal.

“Anything.” Because he owed this man his loyalty, respected him far more than a father figure, and loved him as much as Larry. The two men, close friends themselves, had mentored Oswald into the man he was today.

“I know you have plans for your future that involve leaving Lynford.” Court held up a hand. “I’m not asking, but it’s inevitable. You’ve a brilliant future in anything you choose to do. You think you’ve hit the top at Lynford, and maybe you have, maybe you haven’t, but I’m not here to discuss that. I don’t know your timeline, but I’m asking you, as a favor to me, to stay at least another year.”

Not ready to confess his plans, he merely nodded. “I can hold a year.” Besides, that fit into his timeline, more or less.

“I’m far from dead, but I’m old enough now I need to plan seriously for the unimaginable. Heart attack, stroke like Smithfield had last year, accident, or some other catastrophe. Drew isn’t ready. Even less so is Birdie.”

At the mention of Courtney by her nickname, caution stole over Oswald.

“Should anything happen to me, yes,” Court continued, “the board feels Randi could step in, but she doesn’t like to hear about it. On the other hand, we have Birdie who is ready to take on the London office. At least in her own mind.”

Oswald nodded. Each time Courtney had a break long enough to travel to London, she’d been in the office ghosting Court’s assistant, a sturdy older woman who didn’t put up with any nonsense, but still blushed like a school girl when either Court or he dropped a posy or treat off at her desk. She was also old enough to retire in a few years and was amused by Courtney’s not so subtle ambition to replace her.

“These next twelve months, Randi and I are planning an around-the-world trip. Mostly an extended honeymoon, but we’ll stop in the satellite offices for two to four weeks at a time to get a real feel for things and see if we need to update our processes, find new sources, target new markets.”

Oswald nodded again, but began to have a sinking feeling. Court had mentioned these plans a year ago, but in a more abstract way. It sounded like they weren’t so abstract anymore, but rather on the eve of taking place.

“After the wedding, we’re headed back to England for about a month. During that time I want to shift the balance of power to you. This shouldn’t be a surprise; we’ve discussed it.” Court took a long look around as people were herded into place, and chuckled. “According to my mum, I’m at the rehearsal for show. How did she put it? ‘The only person more useless at a wedding than the groom is the groom’s father.’”

Oswald smiled at the last comment, but answered the first. “Yes, sir. I’m aware of your plans.”

“There’s more. Since Randi and I plan to be out of the country, someone needs to guide and mentor Birdie as she goes through the training period.”

Oswald’s stomach dropped. His eyes sought out Birdie across the vestibule where she stood with her mother ready to help assemble the bodies of the wedding party. She was smiling and chatting with the women around her, completely unaware she was being discussed.

“I see,” he said, merely to fill the silence as Court also gazed at his daughter.

“You know her by now. She’s eager. Perhaps a little too much so. I’m not sure she’s really ready to take on the London office, but she’s determined.”

Yes, Courtney was determined. And possibly a little naïve. She’d discover that when she came up against Dennis and his kingdom in the basement.

“I’m asking you to be her mentor. To keep an eye on her. Possibly head off any animosity that may come her way. I’m fully aware the employees are leery of her. They don’t fully understand her position in my life. As you know, I try to keep the personal side separate. Drew grew up coming to the office so they were used to him when he began working there. But with Courtney, well, from the rumbles I’ve heard, they’re not quite open to accepting her. Many feel she’s a gold digger, taking advantage of me. Nepotism in favor of the daughter isn’t as acceptable as it was for Drew. I’m afraid she might get hurt when she runs into the wall they have in place.”

“She’s a friendly girl, she’ll win them over.”

“Eventually, yes. But it’s the near future that has me concerned. That’s why Randi and I are putting off our travels for a month. I hope to ease her into the office culture, but as her father, it will be awkward. However, you, as my chosen replacement and as her friend, can help. You know the players on a level I don’t. Most of the ones I worked with on my way up the corporate ladder are retired now. The newer ones won’t like her making a fast climb. They’ll see it as her milking me, using our new-found relationship to make her rise faster.”

“True.” Even he, and particularly Drew, had to suffer their own levels of subtle hazing, but as males, they’d been accepted faster. The men respected them and the women had flirted with them. For Courtney, the men would be patronizing and the women catty or dismissive. As many a female executive had suffered, any rise in a male dominated corporate world was often interpreted as sleeping their way to the top. Hard work was discounted by a pretty face in front of sharp brains. Courtney not only had the pretty face and figure, but the shining new family connection. Had she been raised in the company, starting at a far younger age, her road might have been smoother, but there was no use lamenting it.

The girl was in for a shock. Truly, she would be better off staying in California and working with her grandfather in his business supplying items to the world of the west coast vineyards. The culture was far more accepting of a woman in a leadership role.

Oswald sighed and accepted his fate. “Yes. I’ll stay at least a year. Until you’re back in the office and Courtney is settled.”

Court landed a hand on his shoulder. His grin was as wide as any his children might flash. “Thank you. I knew I could count on you. And when you’re ready to make your break, I hope you’ll let me invest in your new venture, whatever it may be.”

Oswald gave him a half smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be presenting my business plan when the time comes.”

And now that he’d touched Courtney, Court’s request was going to be that much harder to honor, because Oswald had already taken advantage of Courtney’s innocence. Or one her father believed she still held. One Oswald desperately wanted to take wholly for himself. But knew better. Courtney was off limits. And for the next year she’d stay there.