“When are you going to get married, eh?”
“Never. Or when I meet the right woman. Whichever comes first.” He got this question a lot.
“No one can accuse you of not trying your best to bed every eligible woman in the world.”
“Just doing my royal duty.”
“Seriously, isn’t there a lot of pressure on you to sire the next heir to the throne of Caspia?”
“I try not to think about that. Besides, we Caspians often live to be over a hundred and my father’s barely sixty.”
“All that goats’ milk yogurt, huh?”
“Food of the gods.”
They shared a chuckle but Sebastian couldn’t help thinking Reed’s laugh was a little too hearty. Forced, even. And what was it with married people trying to shove eternal bondage down your throat?
“You’re here about Caspia Designs?” Reed gestured for him to sit in the leather chair opposite the wide walnut desk. The room was decorated like the headquarters of an eighteenth-century shipping magnate.
Sebastian eased himself into the chair. “I am. I’m in dire need of your business expertise. I’m afraid the company is in worse financial shape than I’d suspected.”
Reed’s expression changed to one of concern. “How so?”
“Until I took over the reins a year ago, Caspia Designs was overseen by Deon Maridis, an old and close friend of my father’s. He’s a good man, but the company’s profits went into a slow slide under his watch.”
Sebastian fought an urge to loosen his collar. “Last year the company actually lost money.”
“What?” Reed sat up. “I confess luxury brands are not my area of expertise, and I can imagine the company is mature and not growing much, but Caspia Designs owns some of the most renowned luxury brands in the world. Aria cars, Bugaretti Jewels, LeVerge Champagne, Carriage Leathers…Why, I bought my wife one of their bags last Christmas and it nearly bankrupted me.” He laughed for a second, then frowned. “How can they be losing money?”
Sebastian leaned forward. “Our brands have been known as the best of the best since the 1920s when the company went public, but many of them have barely changed since. Production methods are outdated and inefficient, and there’s been little effort to attract new customers. There are now a host of luxury jewelers, vintners and the like, and most of them have better distribution and marketing than the ones owned by Caspia Designs. I want to shake up the companies and get them operating like a real business. I also plan to market the goods to a younger audience.”
“Sounds as if you need to do some rebranding. Like Burberry and Mini Cooper.”
“Exactly.”
Reed tilted his head and smiled. “Sort of like you’ve been doing with Caspia.”
Sebastian couldn’t help a swell of pride. “It’s true. Ten years ago, Caspia had virtually no foreign investors, no tourism, little business beyond those that had existed for hundreds of years.”
Reed raised an eyebrow. “Now you have hotels and luxury boutiques and restaurants for tourists to spend their money in. And you accomplished it almost singlehandedly over the last ten years.”
“My assistant, Tessa, must get some of the credit.” Her green eyes flashed in his mind. “She’s an organizational genius.”
“You’re lucky to have her.”
“Don’t I know it.” Sebastian’s fist clenched. How could she plan to abandon him at a time like this? “And we’ll be working hard to make Caspia Designs a good investment for all our shareholders.”
“I don’t doubt you’ll succeed.”
“I intend to, but I’m used to building from scratch, not fixing something that’s broken. I need your advice on how to turn the individual companies around, and fast.”
“Hmm.” Reed tapped his gold pen on his blotter. “If I were you, I’d start by scheduling a meeting with the President and CEO—or their equivalents—of each company within Caspia Designs. Get them all together and read them the riot act.”
“I’ve already asked Tessa to schedule a meeting.”
“Excellent. At that meeting, challenge them to come up with ten ways to immediately increase market share and profitability in their own company.” He gave Sebastian a series of examples of companies who’d effected a similar change by bringing in experienced managers or reinventing their product for modern markets. “You could hire a consulting firm to investigate and give you additional ideas.”
“I prefer to solve our problems internally. These are all businesses with quality products. They’ve been resting on their laurels, and it’s time to shake them up.”
“I can see them shaking already. You can do anything you set your mind to. Even snowboarding down Kilimanjaro.” He leaned back with a wistful smile.
Sebastian’s chest filled with regret that his friend had missed the experience. “You should have been there.”
Reed looked away, picked up a pen and tapped it on his blotter. “Yes. Well. I have other commitments now.” A muscle twitched at his temple. His blue gaze seemed less bright than usual.
“How is Elizabeth? I haven’t seen her in a long time. Is she still your secret weapon on the doubles court, as well as the love of your life?”
Reed’s eyes crinkled. “She sure is. We’ll have to get together for a game sometime with you and whoever your current mixed-doubles partner is.”
Sebastian shrugged. “I’m playing singles at the moment. Got business to take care of.”
“Even if we don’t see you on the courts, you must come to our anniversary party.”
“What is it, three years?”
“Five.” Reed’s jaw stiffened.
Not the most reassuring indication of marital bliss.
“That’s great.” He leaned over the desk and slapped Reed on the arm. Tried to sound enthusiastic. “Just let me know where to show up. And you know the two of you have an open invitation to visit Caspia again whenever you like.”
“I’ll take you up on that soon. Right now I’m in the throes of starting a new company. It’s sucking up even more of my free time than all that partying we used to do when we were younger.”
“Who says I’ve stopped?” Sebastian raised a brow.
“You always did have impressive stamina. One day you’ll meet a woman you actually want to stay home with.”
“So they tell me, but I don’t plan to wave the white flag of surrender anytime soon.”
The doorman pulled open the door and Sebastian stepped into the lobby of his building. Vivian Vannick-Smythe’s two fluffy white
