she could only pray she didn’t have raccoon eyes.
“Ms. Chase,” Chadwick said by way of greeting, his gaze flicking over her face. He looked back at his monitor, then paused. Serena barely had time to hold her breath before she had Chadwick Beaumont’s undivided attention. “Are you okay?”
No. She’d never been less okay in her adult life. The only thing that was keeping her together was the realization that she’d been less okay as a kid and survived. She’d survive this.
She hoped.
So she squared her shoulders and tried to pull off her most pleasant smile. “I’m fine. Monday mornings, you know.”
Chadwick’s brow creased as he weighed this statement. “Are you sure?”
She didn’t like to lie to him. She didn’t like to lie to anyone. She had recently had her fill of lying, thanks to Neil. “It’ll be fine.”
She had to believe that. She’d pulled herself out of sheer poverty by dint of hard work. A bump in the road—a baby bump—wouldn’t ruin everything. She hoped.
His hazel eyes refused to let her go for a long moment. But then he silently agreed to let it pass. “Very well, then. What’s on tap this week, beyond the regular meetings?”
As always, she smiled at his joke. What was on tap was beer—literally and figuratively. As far as she knew, it was the only joke he ever told.
Chadwick had set appointments with his vice presidents, usually lunch meetings and the like. He was deeply involved in his company—a truly hands-on boss. Serena’s job was making sure his irregular appointments didn’t mess up his standing ones. “You have an appointment at ten with your lawyers on Tuesday to try and reach a settlement. I’ve moved your meeting with Matthew to later in the afternoon.”
She carefully left out the facts that the lawyers were divorce attorneys and that the settlement was with his soon-to-be-ex-wife, Helen. The divorce had been dragging on for months now—over thirteen, by her count. She did not know the details. Who was to say what went on behind closed doors in any family? All she knew was that the whole process was wearing Chadwick down like waves eroding a beach—slowly but surely.
Chadwick’s shoulders slumped a little and he exhaled with more force. “As if this meeting will go any differently than the last five did.” But then he added, “What else?” in a forcefully bright tone.
Serena cleared her throat. That was, in a nutshell, the extent of the personal information they shared. “Wednesday at one is the meeting with the Board of Directors at the Hotel Monaco downtown.” She cleared her throat. “To discuss the offer from AllBev. Your afternoon meeting with the production managers was cancelled. They’re all going to send status reports instead.”
Then she realized—she wasn’t so much terrified about having a baby. It was the fact that because she was suddenly going to have a baby, there was a very good chance she could lose her job.
AllBev was an international conglomerate that specialized in beer manufacturers. They’d bought companies in England, South Africa and Australia, and now they had their sights set on Beaumont. They were well-known for dismantling the leadership, installing their own skeleton crew of managers, and wringing every last cent of profit out of the remaining workers.
Chadwick groaned and slumped back in his chair. “That’s this week?”
“Yes, sir.” He shot her a wounded look at the sir, so she corrected herself. “Yes, Mr. Beaumont. It got moved up to accommodate Mr. Harper’s schedule.” In addition to owning one of the largest banks in Colorado, Leon Harper was also one of the board members pushing to accept AllBev’s offer.
What if Chadwick agreed or the board overrode his wishes? What if Beaumont Brewery was sold? She’d be out of a job. There was no way AllBev’s management would want to keep the former CEO’s personal assistant. She’d be shown the door with nothing more than a salvaged copier-paper box of her belongings to symbolize her nine years there.
Maybe that wouldn’t be the end of the world—she’d lived as frugally as she could, tucking almost half of each paycheck away in ultra-safe savings accounts and CDs. She couldn’t go back on welfare. She wouldn’t.
If she weren’t pregnant, getting another job would be relatively easy. Chadwick would write her a glowing letter of recommendation. She was highly skilled. Even a temp job would be a job until she found another place like Beaumont Brewery.
Except...except for the benefits. She was pregnant. She needed affordable health insurance, and the brewery had some of the most generous health insurance around. She hadn’t paid more than ten dollars to see a doctor in eight years.
But it was more than just keeping her costs low. She couldn’t go back to the way things had been before she’d started working at the Beaumont Brewery. Feeling like her life was out of control again? Having people treat her like she was a lazy, ignorant leech on society again?
Raising a child the way she’d been raised, living on food pantry handouts and whatever Mom could scavenge from her shift at the diner? Of having social workers threaten to take her away from her parents unless they could do better—be better? Of knowing she was always somehow less than the other kids at school but not knowing why—until the day when Missy Gurgin walked up to her in fourth grade and announced to the whole class that Serena was wearing the exact shirt, complete with stain, she’d thrown away because it was ruined?
Serena’s lungs tried to clamp shut. No, she thought, forcing herself to breathe. It wasn’t going to happen like that. She had enough to live on for a couple of years—longer if she moved into a smaller apartment and traded down to a cheaper car. Chadwick wouldn’t allow the family business to be sold. He would protect the company. He would protect her.
“Harper. That old goat,” Chadwick muttered, snapping Serena back to the present. “He’s still grinding that ax about my father. The man never heard of letting bygones be bygones, I swear.”
This was the first that Serena had heard about this. “Mr. Harper’s out to get you?”
Chadwick waved his hand, dismissing the thought. “He’s still trying to get even with Hardwick for sleeping with his wife, as the story goes, two days after Harper and his bride got back from their honeymoon.” He looked at her again. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look pale.”
Pale was probably the best she could hope for today. “I....” She grasped at straws and came up with one. “I hadn’t heard that story.”
“Hardwick Beaumont was a cheating, lying, philandering, sexist bigot on his best day.” Chadwick repeated all of this by rote, as if he’d had it beaten into his skull with a dull spoon. “I have no doubt that he did exactly that—or something very close to it. But it was forty years ago. Hardwick’s been dead for almost ten years. Harper....” He sighed, looking out the windows. In the distance, the Rocky Mountains gleamed in the spring sunlight. Snow capped off the mountains, but it hadn’t made it down as far as Denver. “I just wish Harper would realize that I’m not Hardwick.”
“I know you’re not like that.”
His eyes met hers. There was something different in them, something she didn’t recognize. “Do you? Do you, really?”
This...this felt like dangerous territory.
She
