Chapter Six

Anxiety rose with each ping of the elevator as it took Kennedi up to Chase Investments on the eighth floor. In about thirty minutes she’d be standing face-to-face with Trenton Shaw. Well, even in her five-inch stilettos, it’d be more like her face to his chin. He was easily six three. But she would face him and try to make him look beyond his profit margin and rethink his plans to destroy her business.

Straightening her spine, she prepared to put on a good face for the staff. Pop was well liked and respected. The boxes of three dozen Chase Confections’s freshly baked assorted muffins she carried hopefully would aid her to win their favor just the same.

There was also the matter of her father’s botched business deals that plagued her scattered thoughts. Tackle one beast at a time.

Exiting the elevator and crossing the wide corridor, she stretched open the glass door of Chase Investments. Offering a smile to the front office receptionist, Erica, who greeted her the same, Kennedi set the pastry boxes on the raised glass desk. “I brought muffins for everyone.”

“Oh my God, your desserts are like heaven.” Erica leaned in with brown eyes closed and took in a deep inhale. “They smell so good. I’ll go put them in the break room.” She rounded the desk. “That’s a pretty dress. How on earth do you manage to stay so fit being around all that sweetness every day? I’d have to taste everything at least once and be big as a house.”

Kennedi laughed, though she thought the woman’s cocoa-brown frame couldn’t be more than a buck-ten wet.

She gave a glance down at her soft blue, sleeveless, rayon spandex wrap-style dress, and continued on down to her black patent leather spike-heeled sandals. No ironing required had been her only criteria when she’d selected the outfit. “Tasting gets old fast.”

“You wear it well.”

“Thanks.”

Her cell phone rang in her handbag. Checking the display, she saw she had a message from Jacob Newton, of Newton Marketing Concepts, the company for whom she often did freelance work on the side. She worried an appointment had been missed, but instead of listening to the message she tapped on his number.

Heads bobbed up from within the bullpen of twenty or so low-walled cubicles and gave her quick, tentative glances on her way to the second set of glass doors that led to the executive offices.

The line connected. “Kennedi, good morning.”

“Hi, Jacob. I didn’t listen to your message, just figured I’d call. I’m on my way to a meeting. What’s up?” She checked her watch. Trenton Shaw was due to arrive in about twenty minutes.

“I’ll be quick. The National Cancer Association is hosting its annual fundraiser, the Matchmaker Charity Auction, this Friday night. Can you fill in for Samantha? She’s come down with the flu. I don’t expect she’ll be up on her feet for at least a week. I’m sure the constant changing weather hasn’t helped. Both Melinda and Rachel are on assignments that night. You’ve done charities before and understand the nuances.”

Kennedi was a major supporter of the foundation. “What will I have to do? How does it work?”

“It’s simple. One by one, the participating gentleman—”

“Men?”

“Yes, NCA switches it up each year. The participant is announced onstage, and those seated place a bid. The highest bid wins the individual as a table companion for the evening. It’s all in fun. While the money is a donation to the NCA foundation, everyone basically uses the event to network. After the auction, there’s dinner and dancing.”

Stepping just on the other side of the glass door, Kennedi faced her father’s executive assistant, Audrey, who stood before the desk, stout fingers linked in front of her, her beautiful russet-colored eyes in her mature honeycomb-colored features widely alert. Kennedi brought up a finger, signaling for a moment that she needed to finish her call. “Jacob, what’s the max I’m allowed to bid?”

“One hundred K. This event draws a lot of business Newton’s way. I wouldn’t want to miss the opportunity. I’ll double your commission. Say you’ll do it.”

That made the decision even easier, though she’d already decided to take the job. “Send me the details.”

“Great! Thank you. I’m on it as we speak. I’ll call you later in the week.”

“Okay.” She disconnected, brought her attention to Audrey and smiled while handing over the small bag. “Cheese croissants baked fresh this morning. Just a little something to say thank you for keeping things going in Mr. Chase’s absence, as well as my own.”

Audrey peeked inside the bag and smiled. “You didn’t have to do that. I’ve enjoyed working for your father. Do you know when he’ll be returning?”

Not quite ready to answer that, she said instead, “I’m expecting Trenton Shaw at eleven.”

“He’s already here.”

Kennedi turned her head to the obviously empty brown leather armchairs that were typically used for waiting guests. “Where is he? Men’s room?”

“No, he’s in Mr. Chase’s office. I told Mr. Shaw you weren’t in yet, but Richard insisted he speak with him. That man has gotten so full of himself.” Face crinkled tight, she huffed something in Portuguese while smoothing back into place the loose, wayward strands of salt-and-pepper hair that escaped her perfectly arranged low bun. “Richard has set himself up in your father’s office. I advised him not to. He’s going to make me tell him what for if he doesn’t quit behaving like a dictator around here.”

“I’ll speak with him.” As managing director, Richard had taken charge of the company. Kennedi had made clear to him that they’d speak daily, but he hadn’t returned her calls.

She strode to Pop’s office and swung open the door. Richard sat perched behind that big oak desk, his sandy-blond hair neatly combed, his smile white and wide.

Her attention shifted, and she could barely catch her breath. Trenton Shaw, the man himself, sat in the leather armchair stationed before the desk, not his attorney sent to do his bidding. Though his assistant said he’d come, she hadn’t trusted he would. Both men stared back at her standing just inside the room.

Trenton slowly came to his feet. Dear sweet mercy, he all but consumed the rather large corner office—tall, broad-shouldered, and ridiculously handsome, dressed as he was in another impeccably fitted dark gray suit. Those steely blues locked on her.

“Miss Chase.”

Doing her damnedest to project a confident front, switching her handbag that housed her laptop to the crook of her bent left arm, she straightened her spine and stuck out her right hand as she strutted tall and erect in her heels to greet him. “Mr. Shaw, glad you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it.”

His gaze sealed with hers as his strong, warm grasp held on a few seconds longer than necessary. She sent Richard, seated comfortably behind the desk, a hard look, and he jumped to his feet. “Mr. Shaw, I see you’ve met my managing director.”

“That I have. Richard explained that he’s the point of contact for Chase Investments.”

“I meant from a managerial standpoint. Kennedi, uh, Miss Chase runs the show but only until Mr. Chase returns, of course. I’m here to see to things in her absence. That is, when she can’t make it to the office.”

Kennedi looked at the desk and noted that the picture Pop kept of her in a sterling silver frame and his engraved letter opener, along with a few other items, had been replaced with a tension ball, a wood-carved turtle paperweight, and a Richard Thomas nameplate. Annoyance had her jaw tightening. “Richard, please excuse us. But I’d like us to talk later.”

“Sure thing.” He picked up his laptop and rounded the desk.

She waved a hand at the array of his items at the right corner. “Take those with you.”

He hastily scooped up his belongings. “Great meeting you, Mr. Shaw.” On his stride to the door, he said, “I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”

“Yes, your desk,” Kennedi returned and he stumbled a step on his way out.

When the door closed, she circled the desk to the chair and sat down. Trenton returned to his seat. She put her purse away, then rifled through the middle drawer and pulled from it the picture frame and letter opener, situating them back where they belonged.

“Mr. Shaw, I have to say I expected you’d send your attorney.”

Unbuttoning his suit coat, Trenton leaned forward, long legs spread. Those steel-blue eyes roamed over her face and lingered on her mouth before meeting her gaze. “Now why would I send my attorney when you and I have unfinished business?” He swiveled the picture frame and gave a look, then turned it back, smiling. “Another red dress. I think I’m partial to you in red.”

Her thoughts jolted back to Friday night while she took in a quiet inhale, his cologne reminding her of how she’d carried his scent long after they’d parted. And the man could definitely kiss. She could still feel the imprint of his lips against hers, their tongues tangled, a kiss so hot, so greedy, and one she’d lapped at with gluttonous necessity. Swallowing hard, she fought not to moisten her lips for any remnants of his taste, and sat erect, needing to stay focused.

“That’s right, Mr. Shaw, we do have unfinished business. I’d like to talk about your current plans for your garage.”

“What happened to calling me Trent? I like the way you say my name.”

Somehow he managed to make that sound sexual. Or maybe it was the way her brain processed it. And Lord, oh Lord, watching him run his tongue across his lips she knew to be soft as satin made her pussy actually pulsate. Wow. Unable to recall ever having such a reaction before, she crossed her legs tight. “Mr. Shaw,” she emphasized and clasped her hands upon the desk in front of her just as tightly, “I have a proposition. I-I mean I have a business arrangement I’d like to present to you.”

“Do you now?” He brought up a black leather portfolio that apparently had been set at his feet, one she hadn’t noticed, and pulled from it a folder with Shaw Enterprise’s silver-embossed Triton logo upon the cover. “And I have one for you. The terms are spelled out in the proposal, but I’ll simplify it for you.”

“Simplify? I own a business, or have you forgotten?” She bristled. “I know how to read a proposal.”

“I meant I’d sum it up to save you the trouble.”

She flung open the folder and began reading. Midway down the page, her head sprang up. “You want to buy my father’s company?” Anger swelled swiftly. “It’s not enough that you intend to destroy, literally destroy my company, but you want to do the same to my father’s?” This was the man she’d expected to meet Friday night, the man who didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. She surged to her feet. “Get out.”

“I know what happened with Hong Kong, but I can’t figure out Miami. The property is in a prime location. Kennedy Chase had solid investment. Where did the funds go?” he asked, completely dismissing her outrage.

She gasped. “You’ve been looking into my business…my father’s business? How dare you!”

“I call it doing my due diligence before considering an acquisition. Something your father lacked on the Hong Kong arrangement.”

“Don’t you speak of my father! You know nothing about him.”

“I know enough. Quite frankly, I’m doing him a favor. With the settling of the Hong Kong deal, I’ll come out on the losing end of it. Shaw Enterprise would take on the debt. The Miami contract would move forward. My investors know how I do business and would back it. They understand I’ll turn a profit, thus fatten their wallets. The staff here would receive their notices. I don’t need the additional overhead. My company has capable individuals in place.”

The man would callously let the entire staff go without an afterthought. Kennedi leaned forward, hands planted on the desk, her anger so hot the back of her neck started to perspire. But then he slowly came to his feet and mirrored her pose, leaning close, so damn close. His stare dipped to her mouth again and hers to his—she couldn’t help it—their steady gazes faltering for an uncontrolled moment.

She pulled in a refueling breath of strength and squared off with him. “If you think I’m going to see my father’s company stripped from under him, you have another think coming.”

“You do realize the dire straits this company’s in? I’ve read the data. Do you even know where Kennedy Chase is?”

Thinking of Pop and all he’d been going through, she swallowed down the knot in her throat where it roiled like hot coals in the pit of her stomach. “What are you insinuating? That my father ran off with the money?”

“He leaves you in charge to run his company with two major contracts hanging in the wind. Like I said, I’d be doing him a generous service, something I don’t do often when it’s clearly not in my favor.”

The nerve of him. “This is nothing but numbers to you, pieces on a chessboard.”

He straightened to his full height. “How do you come to that conclusion? And from where I stand, buying your father out not only helps Chase Investments, but it aids your company, Chase Confections, as well. The proceeds would help you settle your balloon note. You could reestablish your bakery…boutique in a building that won’t crumble after the first seasonal storm.”

She pushed off the desk. “It’s not enough that you stand there and insult my father’s integrity, but my livelihood along with it?” Gathering up the papers along with the Shaw folder, she hurled them at him. He didn’t flinch an eyelash. “Get out!”

“I’ll give you a day to think about it.” He retrieved a card from his inside suit jacket pocket and set it on the desk. “My personal number, should you wish to call after hours.”

She stalked to the front of the desk. “You already have my answer.”

He paused in his long-legged stride toward the door and rotated to face her.

Chin lifted, she crossed her arms at her chest. “Don’t hold your breath.”

He strode back and came in close again, too damn close.

Looking up to meet his sharp, unblinking gaze, one that felt as though it bore into her soul, she stood her ground. “You heard me.”

“Friday night at the party you said you wanted me to see you. This is me doing just that. I’ve been here a mere ten minutes and can see you’re in way over your head. You don’t know the real estate business. I do. Twenty-four hours, then the deal is off the table.” He turned, and his determined stride carried him out.