Mistletoe Maneuvers (2 page)

Not that he minded. He had not met anyone since Karen who had inspired him to miss a meeting in Singapore or a hotel opening in Rio. His family had grown used to him missing birthdays and holidays. But if Alessandra had her way, that would all change very soon.

It was not anger he felt, however, but pity. He was not about to be cast aside by a woman who had anointed herself heir apparent. He had no choice but to teach her a lesson she'd never learned in all of her graduate programs.

He was going to destroy her, Rick Parker style.

I
f Lessa had expected an easy transition to CEO of Lawrence Enterprises, she would've been greatly disappointed. But she had been a competitive athlete, a top junior player with a big serve and an even bigger return of serve. And although she was used to charging out to a big lead, not every match went that way. She knew that no matter how many hours she spent on the court practicing, there were times when her serve would be off, or her return would be shaky, and her opponent would be the one in command. Then she'd have to play from behind. It wasn't her first choice, but in a way, it had been good for her. It proved to people she wasn't getting by on talent alone, that she could gut out a match with the best of them. Since she'd started at Lawrence Enterprises, she'd likened her struggle to a rough match. She might be in a hole, but she knew she'd dig herself out. Somehow.

But now, less than twenty-four hours after firing Rick Parker, she was beginning to think she had underestimated her opponent.

She had arrived at work that morning to find out that the company was under threat of a hostile takeover by Sabrina Vickers, heir to the Kato Resorts family fortune. Sabrina was known for taking over corporations and breaking them up, selling off the properties one by one. If she succeeded in taking over Lawrence Enterprises, the company would be ripped apart in a matter of months.

“You must be exhausted,” her aunt said when Lessa finally made it home that night. “You've been at work since five this morning. And I bet you haven't had anything decent to eat all day.” Her aunt shook her head as she walked over to their small galley kitchen. Their apartment was located on the top floor of a brownstone in midtown Manhattan. It was a simple two-bedroom with a living room and a small dining room. But it had one luxurious feature: an old, original wood-burning fireplace complete with a marble mantel. Lessa would often come home to find her dinner on the table and a roaring fire in the fireplace. Tonight, although it was nearly ten o'clock, was no exception.

Lessa pleaded with her aunt not to hold dinner for her, but her aunt was determined to do just that. “What else have I got to do all day?” she'd asked in her usual cranky tone.

“How could I not have seen this coming?” Lessa said after she told her aunt the news.

“She was too sneaky,” Gran said.

Although Sabrina had bought stock through her var
ious companies, never using her own name, Lessa blamed herself for not being more diligent. After all, she knew that a hostile takeover was a threat during any period of turmoil. “But she's been buying stocks for weeks. I should've been more thorough.”

“Stop beating yourself up, Lessa. You know what your father always said. Don't waste time thinking about what you should've done. The question is, what can you do now?”

“The board wants me to bring back Rick.” That was putting it mildly. Although the majority had voted to fire Rick, news of the takeover had sent her supporters running for cover. Everyone was pointing a finger and most were aimed directly at her. They considered Rick the one person capable of saving Lawrence Enterprises.

Her aunt sat down at the table and raised her eyebrows as if to say, “Well?”

“I've tried to call him to discuss it but he hasn't returned my calls.” Lessa knew this was just part of his mind game, psyching out the opponent, but it still unnerved her. “You should've seen how smug he was last night. How cocky. I'm certain he knew about this takeover when I fired him. It was like…like he knew I would be forced to ask him back.”

“So you've decided to give him back his job?” her aunt asked.

“I don't know what to do. I'd prefer to fight this myself. It could be an opportunity to win not only my company but the respect of everyone who works there.”

“Sounds like a good idea. Now eat your dinner.”

“Unfortunately,” Lessa said after she dutifully took a bite, “the cons are enormous. I stand a very good
chance of losing everything. I'm taking a gamble not only with my career but also with the livelihoods of everyone associated with Lawrence. If I lose, a lot of people will suffer.” She didn't mind gambling with her own future, but she did not feel right risking the livelihoods of so many others.

“You think Rick can save the company?” her aunt asked.

“Maybe. He's well respected inside the company and in the industry. I think his presence alone would soothe stockholders.” Once again she saw him standing in his office, his handsome blue eyes twinkling with arrogance. “Rick outplayed me. He'll get a new contract and be able to demand more money.”

“
If
you take him back.”

She set down her fork. “Oh, Gran, I've made a mess of things.”

“Nonsense. I've never been more proud.”

“How can you say that? Look what I've done. If Sabrina gets this company, she'll destroy it. She'll sell it off piece by piece.”

“I hate to see you like this,” her aunt said. “I don't think your father realized what a burden he presented you with.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I was given a wonderful opportunity.”

“Wonderful? Look at you. Twenty-six with the weight of the world on your shoulders and more than a thousand people's livelihood dependent on your decisions. It's Christmastime. You should be out celebrating with friends, drinking eggnog and kissing under the mistletoe. Instead you're staying up all night worrying about this company.”

“Dad was my age when he began Lawrence. He had the same responsibilities.”

“Your father was already married when he and your mother bought that old inn. And there was another big difference. This was his choice. His dream. It was your mother's dream as well.”

“It's my dream too.”

“Is it?” Her aunt sighed. “I loved your father dearly but sometimes I wish he was still here just so I could wring his neck. How could he do this to you?”

They had been over this so many times before. “Gran…”

“All I know was that he wasn't thinking straight. I know in my heart that he would not be happy to see that you had tossed aside your dreams just to fulfill his. No parent wants that for his child.”

Lessa knew her father had loved her dearly. No one had been prouder of her tennis success than him. He had given her her first racket and had been her original coach. But things had changed after he'd taken the company public. She'd rarely seen him and when she had, he'd been too exhausted to do anything but read. She had been as surprised as anyone when he'd called her into his hospital room and had asked her to win back his company. But she had loved her father dearly and would've done anything to help him. She had made him a promise that she intended to keep. “But I like this business,” Lessa said.

“Let's be honest,” her aunt said. “If you hadn't made him that promise, would you be sitting here today fretting over the status of this company?”

Would she? She honestly didn't know. But it made
little difference. Lessa did not believe in wasting time thinking about what could have been. Her tennis career had ended long ago. Keeping Lawrence Enterprises out of the hands of Sabrina Vickers was what mattered now.

“I know I want this company to survive. More than I've ever wanted anything,” she said.

“Then I have no doubt you'll succeed. You had the courage to go up against Rick Parker. Not many people would dare such a feat. Your father did, of course. And we all know what happened to him.” Her aunt smiled. “You're a very determined girl. You always have been.”

She smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Gran. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

Her aunt walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed a small brown bag out of a cardboard box.

“What's this?” Lessa asked.

“It's a little something to cheer you up.”

Lessa opened up the bag. “Mistletoe?”

“I thought it might help you enjoy the season.”

“Thanks, Gran, but I don't think I'll be doing much kissing this Christmas.”

“Both the Vikings and the druids believed there were special powers associated with mistletoe. That it was capable of miracles.”

“You've been talking to Mr. Chapman again, haven't you?” Mr. Chapman was the owner of Chapman's Market, where they typically did their shopping. He was an amateur historian and every time Lessa's aunt went shopping, she returned home with a story. “It would be a miracle if I actually had someone to kiss this Christmas.”

“Make a wish and we'll see if it comes true,” Gran suggested.

Lessa laughed for the first time that day. “I wish for my own company. A successful company with employees who actually like me.”

“Now it's my turn,” her aunt said, taking the mistletoe and closing her eyes. She opened her eyes back up and said, “There.”

“You're not going to tell me what you wished for?” Lessa asked.

Gran shook her head. “No. Now help me decide where I should hang this.”

“How about in the closet?”

“Now, that's not optimistic of you.”

Lessa smiled. She appreciated her aunt's enthusiasm. Usually, she loved Christmas, but this season was proving to be especially difficult. The stress of work was getting to her.

“What else is in that box?” Lessa asked, spying the small black writing on the side. As she walked toward it, the words came into focus: Christmas Ornaments. She suddenly remembered that she had promised to pick up a tree on her way home.

“We were supposed to have our tree-trimming party tonight,” Lessa said apologetically. Every year she and her aunt celebrated the season by decorating the tree together. Lessa had been so distracted by work that she had completely forgotten.

“We'll do it another time.”

“I'm sorry, Gran. I feel terrible. I know how much you were looking forward to putting up the tree.”

“Oh, please,” her aunt said, brushing it off. “I don't care about a silly tree. What I care about is you.” Her aunt sighed. “I'm worried about you, Lessa. You're
young and beautiful. There's no reason you shouldn't have someone to kiss under the mistletoe.”

“Maybe next Christmas,” she forced herself to say. She didn't want to disappoint her aunt but she knew the possibility of her having a boyfriend next Christmas was the same as it had been this year and the year before—slim to nil. As much as she might like to have someone special, it wasn't in the cards anytime soon. How could she get involved with someone when she typically worked thirteen hours a day, six or seven days a week? “Not this Christmas, I'm afraid.” She absentmindedly picked up the mistletoe as she thought once again about her situation at work. “This Christmas I'll be lucky to still have Lawrence Enterprises.”

Her aunt sighed. “Well then, go do what you need to do. Go confront this Rick Parker in person.”

“Go to his apartment?” She didn't like the idea of going to see him in such a personal location. She had been there once before, a decade earlier, when her father had sent her to deliver some files. She remembered how nervous she had been, remembered the way her heart had jumped into her throat when he answered the door. He had just returned from a trip and his shirt was untucked and halfway unbuttoned. Stubble of a beard along his jaw added to his dangerous charm.

Although Rick had been twenty-seven years old, eleven years her senior, she had fantasized about being invited inside. “I know you're young,” he would say, “but I'm willing to wait.” And then he would take her in his arms and give her a kiss she would remember for years. But in reality, he barely looked at her. He took the files and was perusing the information when she
heard a woman laugh. She looked around Rick and saw a woman leaning against the couch. She was wearing a long, silky robe and thumbing through a magazine. She reminded Lessa of a gangster's moll, with tousled platinum-blond hair and bright pink lipstick. Rick had signed the papers and Lessa had left, feeling envious of the woman wearing the beautiful lingerie. Lessa thought her the luckiest woman in the world.

“I don't know that I can go there without an invitation.”

“What choice do you have?” Gran asked.

Her aunt was right. She didn't have a choice. As much as she hated to admit it, she had a feeling the board was right. Only one man could save Lawrence Enterprises. Rick Parker.

 

Rick was not surprised to hear that Alessandra was waiting in his lobby. In fact, he had been expecting her. After all, forcing a personal meeting was exactly what he would've done under similar circumstances. What else was there to do when your nemesis refused your calls?

The truth of the matter was that he had been too busy to speak with her. His phone had been ringing all day. The stock had dropped significantly, and board members, furious with Alessandra, had been pleading with him to come back. But it wasn't the loquacious board that had prevented him from speaking to Alessandra. It was the fact that he himself was one of those gobbling up discarded stock for a discounted price—all under various business ventures, never his own name. By firing him, Alessandra had given him the power to do what, as CEO of Lawrence, he was legally forbidden—buy stock.

It was all part of his plan to regain power and rid himself of Alessandra Lawrence for once and for all. The plan was simple. He would purchase stock without Alessandra's knowledge. When she was forced to ask him back, he would negotiate a deal in which she gave him whatever stock he still needed for a majority. Once he had a majority, he could do whatever he liked. And his first order of business would be to fire Alessandra.

The elevator doors opened and Alessandra stepped into his apartment. He had to give her credit. In spite of the hellish day he knew she must have suffered, she looked remarkably composed. Her long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing a gray overcoat. She held her head up high, making her look like a regal queen who was blessing him with her presence.