return the earring to its owner.
Yes, when he’d first found the earring, he’d had Wendy, FMJ’s executive assistant, look Kitty up, just to see how hard it would be to hunt her down. But then Kitty Biedermann turned out to be a jewelry store heiress.
What was he going to do, fly to New York to return the earring? He was guessing she didn’t want to see him again any more than he wanted to see her. But now he was stuck with this stupid bird earring.
As much to distract himself as anything, he rocked back in his chair and said, “Okay, let’s buy a company. What do they do again?”
“What do you mean, what do they do?” Jonathon grumbled. “This is the company you researched.”
Ford nudged his foot against the edge of the desk and set his chair to bobbing. “What are you taking about? I didn’t research a company.”
“Sure you did.” Jonathon held out the portfolio. When Ford didn’t take it, Jonathon settled for tossing in on Ford’s desk. “The same day I sent out that first list of companies to consider, you e-mailed Wendy and told her to dig up anything she could find on Biedermann Jewelry. Since you seemed interested in them, Matt and I voted and …”
Listening to his partner talk, Ford let his chair rock forward and his feet drop to the floor. With a growing sense of dread, he flipped open the portfolio. And there was the proposal. To buy Biedermann Jewelry.
His stomach clenched like he’d been sucker punched.
Had Wendy misunderstood his casual, Hey, see what you can find out about Kitty Biedermann? But of course Wendy had. She was obsessively thorough and eager to please.
With forced nonchalance he asked, “Have you put a lot of work into this deal yet?”
“A couple hundred man hours,” Jonathon hedged. “Biedermann’s is circling the drain. We need to move fast.”
Matt normally wasn’t the most intuitive guy. But he must have heard something in Ford’s voice, because he asked, “What’s up, Ford? You having doubts?”
“It’s a pretty risky deal,” he said simply. Maybe he could gently redirect their attention.
But Jonathon shook his head. “It isn’t really. Biedermann’s has always been a strong company. They’ve been undervalued ever since Isaac Biedermann died last year. But I can turn them around.” Jonathon’s lips quirked in one of his rare grins. “Kind of looking forward to the challenge, actually.”
Ford had seen that look in Jonathon’s eyes before. Jonathon was ready to gobble up Biedermann’s. Any minute now he’d be picking his teeth with the bones of Biedermann’s carcass.
Unless Ford stopped him.
Which he could do. All he’d have to do is explain about Kitty. And the earring.
But what was he really supposed to say? Don’t buy the company because I slept with her? He usually preferred relationships to last a little longer than one night, but he wasn’t above the occasional fling when the chance presented itself. He’d never had a problem walking away the next day. He just wasn’t a long-term kind of guy. He wouldn’t even remember her name if it hadn’t been for that lost earring.
“So what do you say?” Jonathon asked. “We all in?”
“Sure.” And he sounded convincingly casual about it, too. He pushed his chair back and stood. “Hey, I’m going to the gym. That damn chair makes my back hurt.”
“Don’t be gone long. We’ve got work to do.”
“When do you leave for New York?” he asked.
“Not me, we,” Jonathon corrected. “As soon as I can get the board to agree to a meeting.”
“Great.” It looked like he was going to be able to return that earring after all.
Kitty sat at the head of the conference table, concentrating all of her considerable acting skill on looking relaxed. Today was the first of what would probably be many meetings to negotiate the deal with FMJ. She would never feel good about this, but what choice did she have? Everything she’d tried on her own had blown up in her face. Marty, Biedermann’s CFO, had assured her this was her only option. Her last, best hope to salvage anything from Biedermann’s.
Still, the thought of selling the company twisted her gut into achy knots. Beidermann’s had been in her family since her great-great-grandfather had moved to New York from Germany and opened the first store in 1868. For her, Biedermann’s wasn’t just a company, it was her history, her heritage. Her family.
But it was also her responsibility. And if she couldn’t save it herself, then she’d hand it over to someone who could, even if doing so made her stomach feel like it was about to flip itself inside out.
She should be more comfortable sitting at this table than most people were in their own bedrooms. And yet she found herself strumming her fingers against the gleaming wood as she fought nausea.
Beside her, Marty rested his hand over hers. He seemed to be aiming for reassuring, but his touch sent a shiver of disgust through her.
He stroked the backs of her fingers. “Everything will be all right.”
She stiffened, jerking her hand out from under his. “I beg your pardon?”
“You seemed nervous.”
“Nonsense.” Still, she buried her hand in her lap. She didn’t handle sympathy well under normal circumstances. Now it made her feel like she was going to shatter. He looked pointedly at the spot on the table she’d been drumming on, to which she replied, “I’m impatient. They’re seven minutes late and I have a reservation for lunch at Bruno’s.”
Marty’s lips twitched. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
Something like panic clutched her heart. So, he thought he saw right through her. Well, others had thought that before. “Don’t be ridiculous, Marty. I’ve been pretending to be interested in your conversations for years. I’m certainly not going to stop now.”
For an instant, a stricken expression crossed his face and regret bit through her nerves. Dang it. Why did she say things like that? Why was it that whenever she was backed into a corner, she came out fighting?
She was still contemplating apologizing when the door opened and Casey stuck her head through. “Mr. Ford Langley and Mr. Jonathon Bagdon are here.”
Awash in confusion, she nearly leaped to her feet. “Ford Langley? Is here?”
Then she felt Marty’s steady hand on hers again. “Mr. Langley’s the CEO of FMJ. He’s come in person for the negotiations.”
She stared blankly at Marty, her mind running circles around one thought. Ford Langley.
He was here? He was the CEO of FMJ? Impossible. Ford Langley was an ignorant cowboy. She’d left him in Texas and would never see him again.
She must have misheard. Or misunderstood her assistant just now. Or misremembered the name of the stranger she’d slept with.
