consider producing a Mrs. Tanner ASAP.”
Swiveling around in his chair, Tanner turned to face the floor-to-ceiling windows. From his offices on the thirty-first floor, he stared out across the city of Los Angeles and beyond to the ocean. It was a crystal-clear Wednesday in October—no smog, perfect sunshine—but he barely saw it. His mind raced to find another solution to the problems plaguing what should have been an easy purchase. He wanted that candy company. Hell, he wanted every company that posed a challenge to him. Acquisitions seemed to fill a hole in him, even if the feeling was only temporary.
Jeff was right, though. Acquiring Swanson Sweets was going to take more than quick thinking, clever strategies and Tanner’s trademark never-say-die negotiating style.
Friday morning he was flying to Minneapolis. He was the last of the competitors to stay with the Swansons for the weekend. It was a chance for each man to see how the company was run, tour the plant, and get to know the family behind the chocolate.
“I spoke with Harrison this morning,” Jeff said, breaking off Tanner’s thoughts.
Tanner inhaled sharply. Mitchell Harrison was as ruthless a businessman as they came. He also wanted to own Swanson Sweets—and would be willing to pay top dollar for the honor. Harrison’s own candy company was a longtime rival to Swanson Sweets, and he was looking to eliminate the competition. But the man was three times divorced and a notorious womanizer. Tanner had heard through the acquisition grapevine that Swanson wouldn’t even review a bid from Harrison—no matter how high he went. And Tanner couldn’t help but assume that the reason was rooted in Harrison’s spotty reputation.
Jeff cleared his throat. “He’s willing to pay a hefty premium to buy Swanson Sweets from you once you get it from Swanson.”
“I’m still considering it,” Tanner answered tightly.
Tanner ground his teeth. What the hell was he considering anyway? Buying and selling. It was his standard M.O. But in this case, taking a man’s life’s work and selling it to the highest bidder—to someone who only wanted to dissolve the company—well, for some reason this time that wasn’t sitting very well with him.
For forty-two years, Frank Swanson had poured everything he had into his candy company, built it from the ground up, with his family by his side. He was ready to retire and had two married daughters who weren’t interested in taking over. He was willing to sell, but his actions seemed to verify Jeff’s assumption that Swanson would only sell to someone with values similar to his own.
Tanner rubbed his jaw. Why any man would choose to settle down, get married and have children was beyond him. All investment and no return. Perhaps if you could see into someone’s heart, know their motivations, predict their actions, it might work. But you couldn’t. Family was trouble with a capital T.
He had little room for opinions in this matter. If a wife was what it was going to take to win, Tanner would sure as hell do it.
He leaned back in his chair. “So the question now becomes who.”
“How about Olivia?” Jeff prompted.
“I don’t think so.”
“Karen?”
“Too aggressive.”
“What about that actress you were seeing?”
Tanner chuckled and stood up. “And have every conversation reduced to liposuction and fat grams?” He walked over to the bar and poured himself a glass of water. “This woman can’t be anyone I see socially, Jeff. I don’t want my female friends thinking marriage is ever an option with me. I need a simple woman, sweet, elegantly dressed. Educated, but not snobbish. No party girls.”
Jeff muttered an oath. “This is L.A. Where are you going to look? The library?”
Tanner drained his glass. “Why not? I can turn a sparrow into a swan if I have to.”
Jeff laughed. “Hell, if you’re looking for a sparrow, why not try your mail room?”
Tanner’s head came up with a snap. “What’s in the mail room?”
“My secretary informs me that the hardworking ladies down there run a sort of daily Tanner Watch. Most of them have quite a crush, apparently.” With a snort, he added, “Well, all except for one, she says.”
Tanner sat down on the edge of his desk, fascinated by Jeff’s knowledge of the downstairs machinations of Tanner Enterprises. “Oh, really? And who does your secretary say that one is?”
“Abby something-or-other.” Jeff chuckled.
A redhead with killer green eyes and a soft mouth snaked through Tanner’s mind. Polite and shy, the pretty lady who brought him his mail never tried to catch his eye like most of the women in the office. She wore frumpy, conservative clothes to hide whatever she felt she had to hide, but Tanner had always had a sneaking suspicion that what she was hiding was worth a look.
But he’d never know. The woman had a demeanor—a look he could spot with accuracy—that had “home and hearth” written all over it. And he stayed a million miles away from women like that.
“You know,” Jeff began, a light glowing in his eyes that made Tanner nervous. “She’d be perfect, boss.”
“Perfect for what?”
“To play the role of your wife. I hear she’s sweet and simple and smart. And she’s definitely not someone you see socially.” Jeff’s grin widened. “There’s also no chance of her wanting more from you because, hey, according to the office scuttle, she doesn’t like you at all.” He chuckled. “Hot damn, I never thought I’d see the day when a woman could resist the great C. K. Tanner. I think I might be in love with this girl myself!”
A scowl found its way to Tanner’s face. “I’ll tell you what, Jeff. How about if I give you two minutes to get back to work before I fire you?”
Jeff laughed, stood up and headed for the door. “All right, all right. It was just a thought. I guess you don’t need my help if you’re going on a wife hunt, anyway. You’ve always done just fine with the ladies on your own.”
“Damn right I have,” Tanner muttered as the door closed. But still, the idea lingered.
He leaned back in his chair. How about enlisting a woman who didn’t like him? No strings, no calls afterward. Strictly business. That would make things pretty neat and tidy when it was time for a “divorce,” wouldn’t it?
His gaze flickered to the Swanson file that lay open on his desk. Challenges made a great life even better. If his first challenge was to persuade the head of Swanson Sweets to sell him his company, why not enlist the help of the second challenge to do it?
With a satisfied, confident smile, Tanner flipped through the file as he awaited the arrival of his daily mail with grossly uncharacteristic anticipation.
Funky Latin music reverberated off the cold, white walls in the mail room of Tanner Enterprises. Abby McGrady salsa’d her cart, piled high with packages and letters, toward the elevator, grazing the edges of a few desks on her way, mumbling a “sorry” to the chipped paint.
“Say hi to my boyfriend,” Dixie Watts called
