up a little more and enjoy some independence before settling down.”
“She seems ready enough,” he countered. But the statement had been made with more bravado than confidence.
“Yes, she thinks so,” Sumner agreed. He sighed wearily. “Her heart’s been set on being a June bride. This June. It looks like she got her wish.”
“That’s right. She’s my wife now.” Ethan crossed his arms, braced his legs. The last stand of a doomed man.
“I know.” Sumner nodded. “But for how long, son? Do you really think she plans to stay married to you? Your backgrounds, your lifestyles, they’re simply incompatible.”
Ethan’s arms dropped to his sides, although his hands remained fisted.
“Claire can be surprisingly impulsive,” Sumner continued. “She’s regretting this hasty marriage already, believe me. She wanted to make Ashton see reason. She never intended for things to get this far.”
Ethan said nothing. Instead, he fingered the simple and inexpensive band of gold on his left hand. Claire was wearing its twin.
“I know my daughter.” Sumner’s tone and his expression were appallingly sympathetic as he stepped for-ward to rest one hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “That’s why I’m here.”
While Ethan stood there—stupefied and numb—Sumner wrote out a check.
“For your trouble,” he said, tucking it into Ethan’s hand.
When he turned, Claire was standing in the bedroom doorway. Her hair was loose, partially obscuring her face. Still, he saw the truth clearly enough in the flush of color that stained her cheeks.
Words were exchanged, although exactly what had been said, he could no longer remember. Only that he had ached after he’d watched her follow her father out the door.
They hadn’t spoken again, although when he’d returned to Chicago he’d had a visit from her family’s attorney. Ethan’s employment with the company that provided security for Mayfield was terminated—dereliction of duty cited as the reason. He could have protested it, but why bother? Just as he could have objected when he’d been asked to sign divorce papers. He hadn’t. In short order Claire Seaver had become Claire Mayfield once again. Ethan had moved to Detroit, where he’d worked like a dog to start his own business.
He’d been trying his damnedest to forget the woman ever since, and he’d been doing a fair job of it…until today.
CHAPTER TWO
SUMNER MAYFIELD WAS average height and a little on the heavy side. He carried his weight well, though, thanks to broad shoulders and cleverly tailored clothes that helped hide his widening girth. To Claire, her father had always been larger than life, someone she had feared as much as she had revered. Today, as she sat across from him in his office in the Mayfield headquarters building, she noted the deep lines that fanned from his eyes and the thinning hair. He’d grown older, she realized. And she’d finally grown up.
“Your mother was wondering if you’d be by for dinner this evening,” he said.
“I have plans.” She didn’t, but neither did she intend to subject herself to an evening of badgering and emotional blackmail. “Sorry.”
“You disappoint me, Claire. Aren’t you even going to ask how she is?”
“Has she recovered from her migraine?”
“Thankfully, yes. She’s been in bed for days, you know. Even the prescription the doctor gave her failed to take the edge off for more than a day.” His tone held accusation.
“Why is that my fault, Dad?” He always did this, both of her parents did. They tried to make her feel guilty and responsible, as if her mother’s very survival depended on Claire toeing the line.
“Well, your current behavior certainly isn’t helping matters. You know how delicate her health is.”
Claire sucked in a breath, held it a moment before exhaling slowly through her teeth.
“I’m not here to talk about Mother. I’m here to discuss business. I want you to reconsider my application for vice president of new product development for our North American market.”
“Kitten, we’ve been over this,” he said condescendingly. “Before you left for the Himalayas I explained why I passed you over. You’re just not ready.”
“Clive thinks I am,” she said, invoking the name of the department’s executive head. He was set to retire by the end of the year, at which time the current vice president would take his place, creating the opening Claire sought. Clive said she reminded him a lot of her father.
“You have great instincts,” he’d told her a couple of months back when he’d encouraged her to approach her father.
Sumner didn’t share his opinion.
“I think you need more time,” he said, steepling his fingers. “Besides, Roger Fleming has been in the department longer.”
“So longevity trumps ingenuity? For goodness’ sake, Dad, Roger Fleming wouldn’t recognize innovation if it bit him in the butt,” she countered. Claire had ideas. She saw potential for greater opportunities for Mayfield to move into so-called green products that were more environmentally friendly. It was a largely untapped market for the company. “Mayfield is on the cusp. We can embrace change or we can watch our customer base continue to erode.”
“Some of our products face stiff competition,” Sumner conceded. “But overall we’re solid.”
“Dinosaurs were solid too. Look what happened to them.”
He snorted. “Mayfield is never going to become extinct.”
“Maybe not extinct, but we’re following where we used to be leading. You’ve told me often enough that Granddad was a pioneer. That spirit has been lost. We’re reacting to our competitors, rather than being proactive and forcing them to react to us. I can be a great asset to this company if given half a chance.”
After that impassioned monologue, Sumner merely shook his head. “I’m sorry, Claire. My mind is made up. Maybe in another couple of years you’ll be ready for a position like that. For now, I think you need more…seasoning.”
“Another couple of years?” She thought about the bike trip, the hours she’d cycled, the distance she’d traveled in more ways than could be measured in miles or kilometers. She couldn’t tolerate the status quo any longer. “I’m sorry too, Dad, because you leave me no choice but to look for work elsewhere.”
Sumner looked amused by her bold declaration. “And where would you go, kitten?”
She gritted her teeth at the childish nickname. Even now he didn’t see her as an adult. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think I’ll have a problem getting a job.”
“Oh, really?”
“As you’ve always told me, Dad, the Mayfield name opens doors.”
Sumner glowered
