try. Do you?”
Her manner was a cover, the surface amusement hiding her doubts about him. He reached across the table and laid a hand over hers for emphasis. “Always.”
When he settled back in his chair, he realized he wanted to touch her, to take her up to his room—
Damn, maybe it hadn’t been the most brilliant idea to bring her to the inn. This was where he spent his private hours, even if most of that time was dedicated to reading reports. Their lunch was business, part of his public persona. Those two things, the personal and the public, should never merge, in his opinion.
“Why am I now chief of operations as well as finance?” she asked, her mind obviously having no problem focusing on work and its problems.
The answer was easy. “You know the company.”
“So do all the other executives, six of whom have been there thirty years or more.”
The waitress placed tall glasses of raspberry iced tea on the table and told them the day’s specials.
“I’ll take the salmon. Mixed green salad, house dressing on the side,” he ordered, impatient with the interruption.
“The same,” Krista said in an identical tone.
The redhead rolled her eyes, jotted the info on her pad, took the unopened menus and left.
“Do you always order like that?” he asked.
“Like what?”
“With little thought.”
She studied him as if this might be a trick question, then she shrugged. “I enjoy good food, but it isn’t my reason for living.”
“But work is?”
“It’s a large part of most people’s lives. It helps keep body and soul together, you might say.”
The droll smile that touched her lips caused the slight dimples to appear. Her eyes were darker in the shade of the terrace’s white-glazed glass roof and mysterious, her true thoughts hidden as she observed him.
“So, do I get a raise along with the added responsibilities?” she questioned, a challenge in the amused tone.
“Yes.”
Her eyebrows went up at the flat statement.
“I believe in paying people what they’re worth,” he said. “I think you’re going to be worth a lot. To the company.” He wasn’t sure if the clarifying phrase was meant for her or himself.
The interest that had begun while studying her orderly financial statements and the many memos outlining her ideas for the company had blossomed into an attraction upon meeting her yesterday. Today her professional and personal sides had combined into one very interesting package.
He wondered if she kept those two parts as separate as he did…as he usually did. He mentally frowned and forced his thoughts to Heymyer Home Appliances, which was the reason they were here.
“If you could do anything you wanted at the company,” he began, “what would be the first change you would make?”
She was silent for a moment before she said, “There wouldn’t be one thing. Several changes would have to work together. New product lines. New equipment. New production processes.” She paused, her eyes on the tiny rosebuds in a vase on the table. The long, lovely sweep of lashes lifted as she looked at him. “New money.”
“Work up a proposal. I want the business turned around in six months.”
She stared at him, then a slow smile started at the corners of her mouth and ended with a sparkle in her eyes. “I can give it to you now verbatim.”
During the next two hours, they went over several of her ideas. As he listened, Lance found he liked her spunk, her enthusiasm, her wide-ranging intelligence.
If the owners of the company had listened to some of her “dingbat notions,” they might have saved the business from his takeover.
As far as Lance could determine, Heymyer’s wife, who held the title of secretary, was in Florida visiting her mother and sister. Their thirty-nine-year-old son operated out of their New York office. He’d been the vice president and in charge of marketing. Neither had done much good for the business that furnished their living, or so it appeared to him.
From going over the company’s records before making an offer, he’d concluded that only Heymyer and the CFO were avidly involved. The home appliance manufacturer needed modernizing, a fact that Krista understood well.
“New lines,” she now told him in her earnest manner. “I’m thinking of a hip name, like Uptown. Anyway, the shapes would be modern. And the colors, we should go wild with the colors—jewel tones, pastels, retro shades.”
Her graceful, expressive eyebrows rose as if she had her arguments down pat in case he disagreed. She drew outlines in the air as she described new items.
When she hesitated, he nodded and smiled encouragement. The new company would fit in nicely with the original one he’d acquired, with the help of a sizable inheritance from his grandmother, shortly after he’d graduated from college.
His grandfather had been furious, but Lance had made that business a success and therefore hadn’t had to accept any help from his only living relative. Only a sense of duty pushed him into visiting the old tyrant a few times a year.
For a second, he drifted back in time to those months when he’d thought his parents would come for him, when he’d believed in them with all his heart and soul. But his father had run off a bridge, his blood alcohol level twice that allowed by law, two months after the custody battle. And his mother…
The pain of the moment when he’d learned of her death swept over him. She’d died of pneumonia that winter, alone and forgotten by everyone but him.
From that day forward, he’d kept his feelings under wraps. He’d loved his grandmother, a gentle woman who’d tended her house and gardens with quiet joy, but he’d never let himself become dependent on anyone again—
God, he didn’t know why those old memories had returned to haunt him at this late date. At thirty-four, with nearly thirteen years’ experience behind him, he’d taken five failing companies under the CCS banner and made them into viable projects. He would do the same with this one.
None of the other five had been as interesting as this one promised to be, though. Perhaps because of the CFO and her brilliant mind and very feminine allure?
James had thought she should stick to balance sheets and leave the ideas to him. “She wants to put computers in toasters, for God’s sake,” the old man had said, shaking his head. He’d thought her ideas foolish because she’d wanted to make the appliances more versatile, to put computer chips in them to control the temperatures and cook times and make it possible to add features the old owner had never dreamed of.
Lance let his gaze drift over her as he listened, her lovely face filled with enthusiasm and energy. He liked her ideas and the way she challenged him, making him see the possibilities through her eyes.
