His fair brow lifted slightly at her tone. “I wish I could believe that,” he said tersely. Then in a softer, more resigned tone, he added, “Try to understand. This isn’t personal, but I can’t let my father’s work end in Chapter Eleven.”
As the threat of what he was saying became real, Hope’s shock abated. “I’m well aware of what happened to Frost Brothers,” she said icily. She got up and moved around the room restlessly. Then she whirled to face Chase, the awkward silence doing nothing to diffuse her anger. “You can rest assured I won’t let Barrister’s end in bankruptcy.” The business meant too much to her. Apart from Joey, it was her whole life.
He crossed his arms at his waist and looked at her frankly. He wasn’t about to give in to every whim. Unlike Edmond, he didn’t care if she was displeased or not. “Neither will I,” he said flatly.
Aware her hands were shaking, she shoved them into the pockets of her skirt. Although she knew him to be a formidable opponent, she had never expected this from Chase, and it threw her. “What do you mean?” With effort, she kept her voice harsh, exacting.
His hazel eyes darkened in a similar show of emotion. “I inherited thirty percent of the stock, Hope. My mother owns ten percent of it.”
Her pulse thudded faster. “Are you asking me to buy your shares?” She faced him in disbelief, disappointment stabbing at her like a knife.
“No.” He shook his head grimly. “I’m asking you to step down as president, effective immediately, and let the board of directors appoint someone else to run it.”
Hope stared at him, feeling both shocked and annoyed at his matter-of-fact tone. Once the conversation had turned to the store, she had braced herself for complaints from Chase about the lack of profits in the past two quarters, but she had never expected this. Knowing Chase and Rosemary Barrister, perhaps she should have expected it. Neither had ever liked her. Neither had been happy when Edmond left forty-eight percent of the stock to her and recommended she replace him as president. But until now, neither had fought her, either. Knowing how rich people liked to hold onto what they had, as well as what they didn’t, she supposed she should have seen this coming.
“Your father wanted me to run the store, Chase,” she pointed out reasonably. “He spent ten years grooming me to do just that.”
Again, Chase managed to look torn. “I know how hard you’ve worked,” he soothed. “I’m sorry it hasn’t worked out.”
Silence fell between them once more and she studied him relentlessly. As hard as it was for her to admit, Hope saw this wasn’t revenge on his part. He wasn’t trying to hurt her, just to salvage what was left of the business. What he didn’t know was that she was already one step ahead of him, and had been for several months.
“I don’t agree that it hasn’t worked out,” she countered practically. “But I do share your concern. That’s why I’ve called a meeting with the buyers tomorrow morning at nine sharp, to outline some immediate changes that will turn business around. You’re welcome to sit in if you like.”
His mouth twisted unhappily. “One meeting with the buyers isn’t going to change anything, Hope.”
He was underestimating her. In a crisp businesslike tone, she repeated firmly, “The meeting’s at nine sharp, Chase. I assume I’ll see you there?”
Realizing evidently he owed her at least that much, he held her gaze a long moment, looking into her eyes until she flushed and had to fight herself not to back away. Then he nodded his agreement circumspectly.
She hadn’t changed his mind, but what the hell, he thought, he’d give her one more day. For his dad’s sake and for Joey’s. But then he would have to lower the ax. Like it or not, he had no choice. “I’ll be there,” he promised inexorably, letting none of his emotions show. “You can count on it.”
Chapter Two
Knowing she had a battle in front of her, Hope walked into the conference room with her head held high. She took her place at the head of the table and motioned for everyone else in the room to sit. Among the buyers was Chase Barrister. In a dark blue suit and tie, he looked very somber and businesslike. He’d also had a haircut, and the dark ash-blond layers were arranged in a neat, preppy style. Used to seeing him more casually dressed, his blond hair rumpled, his posture defiantly casual and laid-back, Hope was disconcerted by his formal attire and exacting attitude. For the first time, he looked a lot like Edmond—powerful, observant, demanding. And though Chase had always possessed Edmond’s wit, intelligence and consummate people-sense, he had never shown the slightest inclination to indulge her the way Edmond had. Realizing that, Hope felt her nerves jangle. And she wasn’t the only one on edge.
She could see that the seasoned staff was wondering at Chase’s presence, too. Although he had worked at the store, summers, while in college, he had not expressed any interest since. He never attended board meetings, never mind Hope’s weekly conferences with the staff. Deciding the only way to get through this was to plunge right in, she said, “You’re all aware of the lack of recent profits. To survive, Barrister’s is going to have to change. We can no longer cater strictly to the socialites. We’re going to have to try to capture some of the yuppie market, too.”
“You’re not serious, are you?” Steve Supack asked, his look both astonished and grim. Informal spokesperson for group, Steve was in his mid-forties. He had been with the the company for over twenty years, working his way up steadily from clerk to head buyer for menswear. Although he did not have a college degree, his sense of style and ability to please even the rudest, most discriminating customer had proved invaluable. Edmond had trusted him implicitly.
“I never kid about anything this important,” Hope said, meeting Steve’s level gaze. She knew they were all thinking that if the prices and quality of the merchandise went down, so would the size of their sales commissions. She had also known for some time that this had to be done and that it was going to be an uphill battle. Change was never easy, even when it was necessary. She would face criticism from every source—clients, rival businesspeople, and her own employees. But it was the only way she knew to save what had been her late husband’s life work, and preserve her young son’s inheritance. So persevere she must, no matter how formidable the odds or how disbelieving her employees.
“The changes will be effective immediately. We are going to cater to a broader range of clients, carry fewer high-ticket items, do away with all in-store displays of whimsical gifts, and become a more mainstream department store.”
She glanced at the sea of apprehensive faces, purposefully avoiding Chase’s steady, intent gaze. This was hard enough without worrying about what he thought of her ability to run the business, too. She would deal with him later, only when she absolutely had to. Right now, she was concerned about her employees.
She understood and shared the fear of the thirty buyers in front of her. If her plan didn’t work, they would doubtless join the stream of other elitist family-owned department stores that had filed for bankruptcy in recent years. But she also understood what they didn’t, and what she hoped Chase would soon, that this was the only chance they had to survive. “We’ll begin with the Houston Galleria store. If the changes test successfully here, we will change all the other Barrister’s around the country in the fall.”
“What do the Board of Directors have to say about this?” a feminine voice from the back challenged openly.
Hope looked up and her heart sank as she focused on the thin blond socialite.
