Kate Carlisle – Second-Chance Seduction (страница 2)

Ian added, “Terry blew the deal by wearing khakis and a sweater to dinner with the old man.”

“Khakis?” Shocked, Connor fell back in his chair. “Why, that sociopath. No wonder they kicked him to the curb.”

Ian snickered, but just as quickly turned sober. “Jonas Wellstone is definitely old school. He’s very conservative and very anxious that the people who take over his company have the same family values that he has always stood for.”

“He should’ve gone into the milk shake business,” Connor muttered.

“Yeah, maybe,” Jake said. “But look, he’s not about to change, so let’s play the game his way and get the old man firmly on our side. I want this deal to go through.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed in reflection. “Believe me, I want that, too.” Wellstone Corporation was a perfect fit for MacLaren, he mused. Jonas Wellstone had started his brewery fifty years ago, decades before the MacLarens came along. He had been at the front of the line when lucrative markets in Asia and Micronesia first began to open up. Yes, the MacLarens had done incredibly well for themselves, but they had to admit they were still playing catch-up to the older, more established companies. Last year, the brothers had set a goal of acquiring a strong foothold in those emerging territories. And here they were, less than a year later, being presented with the opportunity to purchase Wellstone.

So if all it took to attain their objective were some spiffy new clothes, the decision was an easy one. Connor would go shopping this afternoon.

“Okay, you guys win.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll buy a damn suit.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jake said, adjusting the cuffs on his tailor-made shirt. “I don’t trust your taste.”

The hand gesture Connor flipped his brother was crude but to the point. “This is the reason I hate coming into the big city. I get nothing but grief from you two wheeler-dealers.”

Ian stood to leave. “Spare us the country bumpkin act. You’re more of a cutthroat than we are.”

Connor laughed and stretched his legs out. “My rustic charm conceals my rapier-sharp business skills.”

Ian snorted. “Good one.”

Jake ignored them both as he checked his wristwatch. “I’ll have Lucinda clear my schedule for this afternoon.”

“Fine,” Connor said. “Let’s get this over with.”

Jake nodded. “I’ll swing by here around three and we’ll head over to Union Square. We’ve only got a week to buy you a suit and get it tailored. You’ll need shoes, too. And a couple of dress shirts.”

“Cuff links, too,” Ian added. “And a new belt. And a haircut. You look like one of Angus Campbell’s goats.”

“Get outta here,” Connor said, fed up with the whole conversation. But as his brothers headed for the door, Connor suddenly remembered something. “Wait. What was that you said about needing a woman?”

Ian turned back around but didn’t make eye contact. “You need to bring a date to dinner. Jonas likes to see his partners in happy relationships.”

“And you didn’t tell him that’s a deal breaker?”

Ian scowled and walked out as Jake and Connor exchanged glances.

“Just find a date,” Jake said finally. “And don’t piss her off.”

Definitely a deal breaker, Connor thought.

* * *

Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.

There should’ve been a sign announcing that sentiment, Maggie Jameson thought as she stared at the massive double doors that led to the offices of MacLaren International Corporation. But Maggie wasn’t about to give up hope. She was on a mission, so rather than whimper and crawl away, she summoned every last bit of courage she could muster and pushed through the doors to announce herself to the pleasant, well-dressed receptionist named Susan at the front desk.

“He’s expecting you, Ms. James,” Susan said with a genuine smile. “Please follow me.”

James? You had to give them a fake name to even get near him, the voice inside her head said, jeering. Walk away before they toss you out on your ear.

“Shush,” Maggie whispered to herself.

But the sarcastic little voice in her head wouldn’t stay silent as Maggie followed the charming receptionist down the wide, plushly carpeted halls. And as if to amplify the mental taunts, everywhere she looked there were signs that the MacLaren brothers had succeeded beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. Huge posters of the latest MacLaren products hung on the corridor walls as she passed. Lush plants grew in profusion. Glassed-in office spaces boasted state-of-the-art furnishings and technology.

Maggie was even treated to the occasional stunning view, through wide windows, of the gleaming San Francisco Bay in the distance. Just in case she forgot that this was the penthouse suite of the office building owned by the MacLaren Brothers of Point Cairn, California. As if she could.

Despite her best efforts, Maggie felt a tingle of pleasure that Connor MacLaren had done so well for himself.

Yeah, maybe he’ll give you a nice, shiny medal for doing him such a big favor.

Maggie sighed and glanced around. The receptionist was many yards ahead of her down the hall, and Maggie had to double her speed to keep up. How long was this darn hallway anyway? Where was Connor’s office? In the next county? She should’ve left a trail of bread crumbs. If she had to leave in a hurry, she’d never find her way out. Heck, she could wander these corridors for years. It was starting to feel as if she was stuck on some kind of never-ending death march.

Stop whining. Just turn around and walk away before it’s too late.

If she had a choice, she would take her own subliminal advice and hightail it out of there. She’d taken a big risk coming here and now she was regretting it with every step she took. Hadn’t she spent half of her life avoiding risks? So why in the world was she here?

Because she didn’t have a choice. She was desperate. Truly, completely desperate. Connor MacLaren was her last hope.

But he hates you, and for good reason. Walk away. Walk away.

“Oh, shut up!”

Susan stopped and turned. “Is something wrong, Ms. James?”

Yes, something’s wrong! That’s not my real name! Maggie wanted to shout, but instead she flashed a bright smile. “No, absolutely nothing.”

As soon as the woman continued walking, Maggie rolled her eyes. Not only was she talking to herself, but now she was arguing with herself, too. Out loud. This couldn’t be a good sign.

Her life truly had descended to the lowest rung of the pits of hell, not to be overly dramatic about it.

Even the cheery receptionist had caught on to the desperation vibe that hung on Maggie like a bad suit. She had taken one look at Maggie’s faded blue jeans and ancient suede jacket, and smiled at her with so much sympathy in her eyes that Maggie wouldn’t be surprised to have the woman slip her a ten-dollar bill on her way out.

Treat yourself to a hot meal, sweetie, Maggie imagined the woman whispering kindly.

Unquestionably, Maggie had been hiding out in the remote hills of Marin for way too long. Glancing down at her serviceable old jacket and jeans, she realized that she’d lost the ability to dress for success. Her boots were ancient. She hadn’t been to a beauty spa in more than three years. True, she hadn’t exactly turned into a cave dweller, but she certainly wasn’t on top of her fashion game, either. And while that wasn’t a bad thing as far as Maggie was concerned, it was probably a mistake not to have factored it in when she was about to go face-to-face with one of Northern California’s top power brokers.

The man whose heart everyone believed she’d broken ten years ago.

Someday she would find out why Connor had allowed everyone in town to believe it was her fault they’d broken up all those years ago. It wasn’t true, of course. They’d had what could charitably be called a mutual parting of the ways. She could remember their last conversation as if had happened yesterday because Maggie was the one who’d ended up with a broken heart. Her life had changed drastically after that, and not in a good way.

Why had her old friends turned their backs on her and blamed her for hurting Connor so badly? Had he lied about it after she left town? It didn’t seem like something Connor would have done, but she had been away such a long time. Maybe he had changed.

Maggie shook her head. She would never understand men and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to. But someday she would ask him why he did it. Not today, though, when she had so many bigger problems to deal with. She didn’t dare take the risk.

Turn around. Walk away.

“Here we are,” Susan the receptionist said cheerfully as she came to a stop in front of another set of intimidating double doors. “Please go right in, Ms. James. He’s expecting you.”

No, he isn’t! He’s not expecting a liar!

Maggie smiled stiffly. “Thank you, Susan.”

The woman walked away and Maggie faced the closed doors. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs. The urge to walk—no, run—away was visceral. But she’d come this far on sheer nerves, so there was no way she would walk away now. Besides, even if she did try to leave, she’d never find her way out of this office maze.

“Just get it over with,” she muttered, and praying for strength, she pushed on the door. It opened silently, gliding across the thick carpeting.