Matchless Millionaires. Elizabeth Bevarly

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Matchless Millionaires - Elizabeth Bevarly Mills & Boon By Request

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Ryan had left double what the candlestick holders had cost.

      Damn Ryan Sperling, she thought. He made her feel unclean accepting his money, just as she felt unclean doing business with Webb Sperling.

      “It’s too bad he turned out to be someone you’d never want to get involved with,” Erica responded. “He’s the hottest guy to walk in here in months.”

      “I hadn’t noticed.” Liar, liar.

      “What’s he doing in Tahoe?” asked Erica, picking up the scattered bills.

      She shrugged. “Taking a vacation, I assume. And with any luck, I won’t be running into him again.”

      She filled Erica in on the encounter with Ryan.

      Since being hired to work at Distressed Success three years ago, Erica had become her close friend. Though Kelly was cautious about what she told people regarding her past, she’d confided in Erica about her childhood in Clayburn and her mother’s affair with Webb Sperling. More recently, Erica was aware of her negotiations with Sperling, Inc. and how they’d come about.

      “From what you’ve told me,” Erica said finally, “he wasn’t too happy about your doing business with Webb Sperling.”

      “Well, there’s nothing he can do about it.”

      Yet, despite how adamant she sounded, she found herself shaking off a feeling of unease.

      “Still, maybe it’s best if you got this contract with Webb finalized, sooner rather than later,” Erica observed.

      I couldn’t agree more, Kelly thought.

      “I’m going to get back to opening those boxes of merchandise that arrived yesterday,” Erica announced.

      “Thanks.”

      After Erica had headed back to the stockroom, Kelly found herself left alone with thoughts that she couldn’t push away.

      The encounter with Ryan Sperling had shaken her up more than she cared to admit to Erica. Ryan exuded power, even a little ruthlessness, and he made her nervous on every level.

      By Ryan’s own admission, however, he and his father were estranged, so there was little he could do to meddle in her negotiations with Sperling, Inc. Or was there?

      She knew from press reports that Ryan had made a fortune gobbling up cable companies. She’d also read he’d inherited from his paternal grandfather a small minority of shares in the family business, but other than that, he had nothing to do with the Sperling retail chain.

      On the other hand, Ryan seemed as if he’d be all too eager to upend his father’s best-laid plans, particularly when they had anything to do with his former mistress.

      Somehow, Ryan had known about her attempt to get her goods into Sperling stores and he’d seemed none too pleased at the prospect.

      Kelly shook her head. Of course, she wouldn’t be in this predicament if she hadn’t said more than she wanted to her mother.

      She still rued the day she’d confided in Brenda that she hoped to find a national retailer to carry designs under the Distressed Success name.

      The last time her mother had breezed through Tahoe, Brenda had been short on cash again and looking for “a small loan,” and, as usual, Kelly had offered up some money, knowing she’d never be repaid.

      Brenda had taken the opportunity to look around Distressed Success and comment on the latest inventory.

      “These jewelry boxes are gorgeous, tootsie,” Brenda had said, holding an embroidered silk and stone-encrusted case.

      “Thanks,” she’d said, walking over. “I hired a manufacturer to produce samples from some designs I sketched. I’m selling some of the samples in the store, but I’m hoping to find an outside vendor for them, too.”

      She hoped if the samples sold well in Distressed Success, she’d have an easier time getting a big chain to carry them. Her dream wasn’t to carry other designers’ goods in her boutique, but to build up Distressed Success into a national, even international, brand using her own designs.

      Brenda perked up. “A vendor?”

      Her mother turned the jewelry box around in her hands, inspecting it. Her nails were long, manicured and fire-engine red, a color that matched her lips.

      Not for the first time, Kelly wished her mother would tone it down. Brenda’s makeup was perfect for television or for the Las Vegas showgirl she’d once been, but in the harsh light of day, it just looked garish.

      Then again, Kelly reflected, since her mother’s life often resembled a soap opera, the makeup wasn’t completely inappropriate. Brenda continued to live in the fast lane, her devil-may-care attitude still going strong in her fifties.

      Kelly sighed. As a teenager, she’d been embarrassed by her mother’s loose living. Her mother had drunk, smoked and partied hard. And now it appeared some things were destined never to change.

      “I’m looking to partner with a national chain,” she said in response to her mother’s inquiring look, “but there’s a lot of competition for shelf space, especially in the more prestigious retailers.”

      She could only fantasize about getting her designs in Neiman Marcus or—

      “What about Sperling?” Brenda said, her eyes sharpening.

      For a moment, Kelly thought she’d spoken out loud, but then she realized Brenda was giving voice to what she herself had been thinking.

      “I could contact Webb and—”

      “No,” she said emphatically. It would be a bad idea for either of them to let Webb Sperling back into their lives.

      “It’s settled,” Brenda said animatedly, putting down the jewelry box. “I’ll just give Webb a call and—“

      “No.”

      But Brenda was already caught up in another one of her schemes. “Of course, he’s still married to that cheap slut Roxanne—” Brenda’s mouth curved in a hard smile “—but Webb and I keep in touch.”

      Kelly resisted rolling her eyes. As far as Kelly knew, Brenda and Webb hadn’t been lovers in years. But one could never tell with those two, particularly since Webb was a known adulterer and Brenda had never looked a gift horse in the mouth.

      Kelly mentally winced at the thought of her mother approaching Webb for a favor, then winced again as another, more ominous thought occurred and she wondered whether Brenda had already been approaching Webb from time to time over the years for “a small loan.”

      In the end, she’d convinced Brenda to back off the idea of contacting Webb Sperling—or rather, she thought she had.

      Two weeks later, however, the phone call had come. Webb’s tone had been too hearty, his attitude a tad oily.

      She hadn’t had the willpower to resist what was being dangled in front of her, particularly since

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