you’ll meet the right man and fall in love and that will be that. Nature will have her way with you. You mark my words.’
Leah suppressed a sigh. She’d been marking her father’s words all her life. She loved him to death, but over the past two years she’d come to realise he was an incredible bossy-boots who thought he knew what was best for everyone.
‘Can we move on, please?’ she said, picking up a piece of crispy bacon with her fingers, and munching into it. ‘You wanted to discuss something with me?’ she asked between swallows. ‘I presume it didn’t have anything to do with my remarrying. It sounded like it was about money. Which reminds me. Don’t start telling me what I can and cannot do with the income from my trust fund, either. It is my money to do with as I please. Mum made no conditions on her legacy in her will. If I want to give it all away, I can. Not that I am. Yet. At the moment, I have to keep some back each month to make ends meet.’
‘I don’t wonder,’ her father said. ‘From what I recall, you only earn a pittance.’
‘The women in the factory earn even less,’ Leah pointed out. ‘Yet some of them bring up a family on their salary. My aim is to support myself on my salary alone. It will do my character good to see how the other half lives. It’s just taking a while for my champagne taste to catch up with my beer income. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?’ she asked, and munched into the bacon again.
‘Eat your breakfast first. I see you’re enjoying it. We’ll talk over coffee afterwards.’
Leah’s curiosity was intense by the time she cleared her plate and picked up her coffee cup. ‘Well?’ she said after a couple of sips. ‘Out with it.’
‘What do you know about the takeover of Beville Holdings?’
‘What? You mean it’s a done deal?’ Leah asked with alarm in her voice. So far there had only been rumours at work of a possible takeover. But lots of Leah’s fellow employees were genuinely worried.
Leah had heard from more than one source that when companies were taken over, they were invariably subjected to ‘restructuring’. Leah had been chatting to one of their newest reps on Friday, a really nice man with a wife and young family. He told Leah that new management always pruned staff and usually adopted a policy of last-in-first-out, regardless of ability. Apparently, Peter had lost his previous job that way and was worried sick about the same thing happening again.
‘Yes, it’s a done deal,’ her father confirmed. ‘There’s an article about it in the business section of the Sunday paper here. Plus a photo of your new boss, Jason Pollack.’
‘Jason Pollack,’ Leah repeated, the name not ringing a bell. ‘Never heard of him.’ Leah might not have joined the workforce till late in her life, but she’d been brought up on dinner table discussions about the wheeler dealers of this world whose faces and names often graced the dailies.
‘Not all that many people have,’ her father informed her. ‘He keeps a very low media profile.’
‘Show me,’ she said, and her father passed across the relevant pages.
‘Goodness!’ Leah exclaimed, having expected to see a photo of a man who was at least middle-aged. And a good deal fatter.
Takeover tycoons were rarely this young. Or this slim.
Or this handsome.
Something inside Leah tightened when her eyes met those of Jason Pollack’s. Dark brown, they were. And deeply set, hooded by eyebrows that were as straight and uncompromising as his mouth. His hair was black. And wavy. Brushed neatly back from his high forehead with no part. His nose was straight, with widely flared nostrils, his jawline squared off, with a small dimple in its centre.
‘Is this an old photo?’ she asked brusquely.
‘Nope,’ her father said. ‘If you read the article, you’ll see he’s only thirty-six. He’s very good looking, isn’t he?’
‘I suppose so,’ Leah said. ‘If you like the type.’ Which she obviously did. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
Yet he was nothing like Carl, who’d been big and blond, a Nordic giant of a man with a raw-boned handsomeness.
Jason Pollack’s face had a model-like quality, probably because of the perfect symmetry of his finely sculptured features.
Yet no one would mistake him for a male model. There was an air about him that was unmistakably magnate material. A maturity in his eyes—and an intelligence—that Leah found both attractive and irritating.
Irritating because she didn’t want to find the new boss of Beville Holdings in any way attractive. She didn’t want to find any man attractive for a long, long time.
‘How on earth did he get to be so rich and successful so young?’ she queried sharply. ‘I know he’s not old money. I would have met him before, if he was.’
‘Nope. He was an immigrant from Poland, brought over here by his father after his mother died in childbirth. He grew up in the Western suburbs and never even went to university. Started in sales straight out of school.’
‘Must have been a very good salesman to acquire so much in such a short time,’ Leah said.
‘Seems so. But he also married into money when he was in his late twenties. His wife was his first employer’s widow. Her husband owned the WhizzBiz Electronics chain of shops. Jason Pollack sold himself to his new lady boss within a year of her husband’s demise. She herself died of cancer a couple of years later, leaving her adored young husband everything. Admittedly, by then, he had reversed WhizzBiz’s dwindling sales. After his wife’s death, he sold the whole chain for an enormous price. That’s become Pollack’s trademark. He buys ailing companies, fixes them up, then sells them.
‘But only if he thinks fixing is feasible,’ her father continued whilst Leah kept staring at Jason Pollack’s photo. ‘He reveals in that article that on one occasion, after he gained access to the company’s records and employees, he judged that a salvage operation simply wasn’t on. So he cut his losses and dismantled the company altogether, selling off whatever assets were involved.’
‘Regardless of the poor employees,’ she scorned.
‘I gather he gave each of them more than their entitlements.’
‘Which he could well afford,’ she snapped, dragging her eyes away from Jason Pollack to scan the rest of the article. The man had to be worth squillions, his current residence being the top floor of a skyscraper in the middle of Sydney’s city and business district.
‘Maybe, but he didn’t have to, Leah. The man has a good reputation for being more than fair. Look, Beville Holdings has not made a profit for two years now. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Whether Beville Holdings is salvageable, or not?’
Leah frowned. ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘I happen to own a nice little parcel of Beville Holdings shares. Bought them two years ago when they were rock bottom. Are they going to increase in value?’
‘According to this article they’ve already gone up a lot.’
‘Yes, but they’ll
