rolled through Mac at the slight tremor in the older man’s voice. He turned his chair toward the wall of windows behind him and stared out at the view of the Minneapolis skyline. “I won’t waste my time or yours asking why you did what you did.”
“Excuse me?”
“Or force you to admit it,” said Mac. “Attempting to ruin the reputation of a competing firm happens quite a bit in our game. Mostly with the older set. You guys get tired, lose your edge and the clients start looking elsewhere.”
Mac could practically see Owen’s face darkening with rage. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Valentine—”
“You can’t help it,” Mac continued coldly. “You see these hotshots coming up the ranks with cooler heads and sharper minds and you start to worry that you’re not going to be taken seriously anymore. And when you realize it’s only a matter of time before you’re forced out of business, you panic.” Mac leaned forward and said without emotion, “You panicked, Owen.”
“This is ridiculous,” Owen sputtered. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mac continued as if he hadn’t heard. “A respectable man would recognize his limitations and retire, maybe play a round of golf in the morning followed by a nice nap in the afternoon.”
“A respectable businessman, Valentine.” Owen laughed bitterly. “A respectable businessman wouldn’t give preferential treatment, key information or tips to certain privileged clients. A respectable man wouldn’t give that information based on their client’s long legs and large breasts.”
It was the accusation of a desperate man, total BS, but the rumor had spread like the flu. “You are this close to a lawsuit, Winston.”
“That sharp mind of yours would never allow these observations of mine to go on the record in a court of law. Such a long, drawn-out process. Even worse for your reputation, I would think.”
It took a few seconds for Mac to respond, then a deadly calm crept over him like the blackening sky before a thunderstorm. “True enough,” he said slowly. “Perhaps legal recourse isn’t the right way to deal with you.”
“Smart man. Now it’s late and I have—”
Mac stood and walked across the room. “No, I suppose I’ll have to come up with a different way to make you pay for what you’ve done.”
“It’s after seven, Valentine,” said Owen tightly. “I have dinner plans.”
“Yes, of course—get home to your family.” Mac opened his office door and gestured for Claire. “Especially that lovely daughter of yours. What’s her name again? Allison? Olive?”
Owen didn’t answer.
“Ah, right…” Mac raised a brow at Claire. “Olivia. Beautiful name,” Mac said as he watched his assistant go to her computer and begin a search. “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman, I’m told. You know, your daughter has a reputation for being a very good girl. Sweet, loves her father and steers clear of anything scandalous. Might be interesting to see how easy or how enjoyably difficult it would be to change that.”
Claire glanced up, her expression a mixed bag of respect, curiosity and horror.
“You stay away from my daughter.” The once cocky old man now sounded like an anxious pup.
“I’m not a religious man, Owen, but I believe the phrase ‘an eye for an eye’ is appropriate here.” Mac stalked back into his office. “I may be an arrogant, selfish prick, but I’m no fraud. I give every one of my clients two hundred percent, male and female alike. You went too far.”
Mac stabbed at the off button on his BlackBerry and walked to the windows. The bleak, gray light of a hostile rainstorm hovered over the parking lot and street below, making Mac feel as though his threats to Owen Winston might be so powerful they could not only affect the sexual status of an innocent young woman, but the weather, as well.
“She owns No Ring Required.”
Mac didn’t turn around to address Claire’s statement. “How do I know that name?”
“Minneapolis Magazine did a cover story on the business last month. Three women—a chef, an interior designer and a party planner—all top-notch businesswomen who have banded together to create—”
“A service for men who need the help and expertise of a wife,” he continued. “But either don’t have one or don’t want one.”
“That’s right.”
He turned around and nodded to his assistant. “Perfect. Set up an appointment with Olivia Winston for this week. It would seem that I’m in need of her services.”
“Did you read the article, sir?”
“I don’t remember…I probably skimmed it.”
“These are hardcore, upstanding women who are well-respected in the business community. They are adamantly against any and all fraternization.”
Mac grinned to himself. “Get that appointment for tomorrow morning. First thing.”
Lip pulled under her teeth, Claire nodded and left the room.
Mac returned to his desk and thumbed through the files of the clients that had gone AWOL since Owen Winston’s lies had surfaced two days ago. Who knew if they were ever going to return to his company or if their relationship with his firm was dead in the water.
Mac wanted to throttle that bastard—but violence was too quickly given and gotten over. No, it would have to be a rep for a rep. Owen had taken Mac’s and Mac would take his daughter’s.
Well-respected or not, Owen’s little girl was going to have to pay—for the loss of revenue to MCV and its employees, and for her father’s stupidity.
Two
Olivia closed her eyes and inhaled. “I’m such a genius….”
“How long are you going to make us wait, Liv?” Tess asked, her stomach rumbling loudly. “I skipped breakfast.”
Seated at the table, Mary Kelley stared at the tall redhead’s trim belly, her brows drawn together. “Sounds like a train’s derailing in there. Very ladylike.”
Tess gave Mary a teasing glare. “Give me a break, I’m starving.” She pointed to the massive yellow diamond engagement ring on her pretty blond partner’s finger. “Not all of us have beautiful men bringing us poached eggs and bacon in the morning.”
Smiling, Mary touched her growing belly, her blue eyes soft and happy. “Ethan’s very concerned about feeding his child. If I don’t have something to eat every few hours he freaks.”
Tess snorted. “That’s just a little too sweet for me.”
Mary laughed. “Oh, c’mon. You’ll change your mind about that someday. Guaranteed.”
“Doubtful. I’m too much of a loner—and I like it.”
“Well,
