She stared an absolute disbelief at the familiar figure lounging in one of the squashy leather boardroom chairs. Sure, she’d expected to find him here; Mr. Kern had said he was when she checked with him. But even so, she was shocked right down to her toes to see Nick in the flesh again.
“Nicholas Shard,” Rory said in a strange voice.
“Your powers of observation are still keen, I see,” he said.
His long legs were stretched indolently in front of him and crossed at the ankles, and his hands were clasped behind his head. He wore the pleased expression of a sated jungle cat.
Rory folded her arms across her chest. “I haven’t seen you for years, and you just up and buy the company I work for?”
“How else was I supposed to get your cell phone number?”
Rory shook her head, momentarily at a loss. She’d forgotten how good looking Nick was. His hair was lush and thick and black. His jaw was strong and determined, and his eyes, his best feature, were an interesting bluish gray and still seemed filled with humor. Pulling out her cell phone, she said, “What’s your cell number?”
“I—” He cut himself off and told her and she plugged it into her phone. She said, “I’m sending you a text right now.”
Nick’s gaze turned to his cell phone which lay on his desk. A moment later it buzzed at him, and he picked it up. “Welcome aboard,” he read aloud.
“Now you have my number.”
His gaze met hers again. Could he see her inner turmoil? She sure as hell hoped not.
“You’re not sure this is a good idea,” he said, his mouth twisting in that amused way that was uniquely Nick.
“I’ve been pretty happy here at Jacobson & Kern, but working for you is the great unknown.”
One brow lifted. “I’m not a slave driver.”
“Yeah? That’s what they all say. I’m just not sure I want to work for my ex-best friend.”
“Ex?” He looked surprised.
“You could’ve been off the planet for the last six or so years, for all I knew.”
“The phone works both ways.”
“I emailed last.”
He laughed. “Is this a contest? Okay, I lose. Feel better?”
“Not really,” she admitted.
Nick suddenly got to his feet. “God, it’s good to see you again.” He came around the desk and stopped right in front of her, smiling down into her upturned face. Rory blinked, her pulse jumping erratically.
“It’s good to see you, too.”
“You know, you were one of the biggest factors in my decision to buy Jacobson & Kern. Without you, I don’t think the deal would’ve gone through.”
“Give me a break.” Rory took two steps backward, needing a bit of space.
“It’s true.”
“It’s a blatant lie. You’ll never convince me that I had anything to do with it.”
“Why not?”
“Because Nick Shard is a shrewd businessman,” she said, drawing a frown from him at the compliment. “A long-term friendship would never enter into any decision you would make for Shard Limited.”
“Rory, you wound me. I’d do anything for you.”
“Yeah, except email me.” She laughed and the sound reverberated throughout the boardroom.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m a shit.”
“Yeah, you are.”
They grinned at each other, and Rory realized how much she’d missed him. Missed the lively bantering, the appreciation of each other’s wit. She hadn’t realized how empty she’d felt until just this moment. Nick might have his faults, but he was fair and intelligent, and a whole lot of fun.
He’d flung his gray sports coat carelessly across the back of the chair, loosened his tie and undone the top button of his shirt. His black hair shone with vitality beneath the muted lights, his skin a rich California tan. He looked the epitome of the successful male.
“You know something?” she said, pretending to give him the once over. “You’ve aged well.” So well, in fact, that she had to drag her gaze from his strong masculine appearance.
Careful, Rory.
“So have you,” he remarked appreciatively.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be working for you.”
“Closer than you know,” he murmured.
Rory’s moment of pleasure vanished. “Okay, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve got a slight problem I want you to handle for me. A friend of mine’s account. He had some problems with Jacobson & Kern about a year ago, but he’s willing to come back. However, we’ll really need to work together on it.”
Rory said slowly, “You’re talking about the Marsden account.”
“You know John?” he asked in surprise.
“Only of him. He was Don—” Rory cut herself off. If Nick didn’t yet know Don Tisdale was the man who’d angered Marsden, she didn’t want to be accused of pointing the finger.
“I know all about Don Tisdale,” Nick assured her dryly, reading her mind. “John was rather uncomplimentary about him.”
“What are you going to do?” Rory asked, unable to stop herself. She might not like Don personally, and he’d certainly messed up with Marsden, but overall he wasn’t a bad investment broker. Other clients trusted him implicitly.
Nick regarded her thoughtfully. “I don’t know yet. Time will tell.”
The sound of the door caused Rory to jump and Nick to glance past her. Charles Jacobson and Paul Kern entered the room followed by Jacobson & Kern’s eight other investment administrators, including Don Tisdale.
“Oh, Rory. Good. You’re already here,” Jacobson said in his watery voice. “Don went looking for you.”
Don, subdued and resentful, met Rory’s gaze coolly. Clearly he felt she’d been getting in good with the boss. Rory tightened her lips. Don was his own worst enemy. He liked blaming others for his own mistakes.
Nick’s eyes followed Don as he pulled back a chair near the one Sam Wright was holding for Kern. The elderly gentleman laid down his cane and subsided into the chair with a grateful sigh.
Rory quickly took the chair across from Don. The stare he leveled at her was full of accusation. She narrowed her lashes and glared back at him in warning. Silently, she told him to stop blaming her for Nick’s buyout. His angry gaze said he wasn’t listening.
Nick watched this exchange with a growing feeling of uneasiness and resentment. He didn’t like Don Tisdale already and the guy was doing nothing to endear himself to him.
He moved to take the seat at Jacobson’s right, looking at the already assembled employees. “By now you’ve probably all heard that Mr. Jacobson and Mr. Kern have sold the company to me. Let me assure you, I want this transition to be smooth and painless.” He smiled to ease the tension that had gathered. “This is a great company. But it’s only as good as the people who work for it. I’m not going to forget that… .”
When he’d purchased his San Francisco investment firm, Nick had been forced to fight for respect. Like Jacobson & Kern, it had a reputation in the community that went back nearly one hundred years. He was considered the upstart. The “boy from up north.” He’d had one hell of a time convincing the employees he planned to play fair.
The employees at Jacobson & Kern were looking at him as if he’d somehow robbed the company. His voice echoed even though the room wasn’t overly huge, making him sound like some prophet of doom. So much for the “state-of-the-art acoustic system” Mr. Kern had bragged about. This wasn’t quite the effect Nick had wanted.
In truth, Nick liked things simple and small. The Jacobson & Kern offices were almost too resplendent for him. Too much ultra-thick carpet, wallpaper, gilded moldings, still life paintings. Too much fluff. Nick had an aversion to fixed overhead. Buy another chair and rent another room and he broke out in hives. In the investment business, prudence and money management was foremost. How could you expect people to believe in you, if you spent money like water with no eye to the future?
Still, he’d learned his clients didn’t expect the same frugality from him personally. In fact, they
wanted
to be able to see that he was making money. If Nick wore expensive suits and Italian shoes, it somehow proved he was a success. Why, he wasn’t sure. It was a cockeyed approach that made little sense, but Nick had found that anxious investors sometimes measured success by how a man dressed.
Don Tisdale was still staring at Rory. It annoyed Nick. There wasn’t something going on between them, was there? Rory looked as cool as a cucumber. Her hair fell to her shoulders, thick with a hint of curl, sable brown and streaked with gold. Her eyes were wide and an intense shade of cerulean blue. He’d always found her attractive. Not as classically beautiful as Jenny, maybe, but striking and with the strength of character he was drawn to. In a simple, loose white silk blouse and a charcoal gray suit, she looked remote and in control—just like always. But the clothes couldn’t disguise her femininity. Her breasts were soft beneath the silk, her waist tiny. When she’d walked to her seat he couldn’t help watching the movement of her hips beneath the smooth-fitting skirt.
There was something incredibly sensual about Rory that time had only magnified. Nick, who’d been too susceptible to her at seventeen, and who’d then denied the attraction at twenty-one, realized he suffered unresolved feelings for his best friend at thirty-two. Incredible. Here he stood, soothing the anxious Jacobson & Kern employees, and yet his mind was on Rory.
“…I’m still in the process of moving to Seattle, so I won’t be in the office on a regular schedule yet. Mr. Jacobson has suggested that Sam Wright be the liaison between myself and all of you until I’m permanently settled,” Nick finished.
Don glanced toward Sam, a man in his fifties who’d worked for Jacobson & Kern for nearly thirty years. Nick couldn’t see his expression.
“If you have any questions,” he continued. “Now’s the time to ask.”
Kern spoke up. “I might suggest you tell them about John Marsden now, Mr. Shard.”
Rory stiffened and Tisdale nearly came unglued. He jerked in his seat as if stuck by a cattle prod. Damn, Nick thought. He would have liked to ease into this powder keg slowly. On the other hand, there was no reason to delay the inevitable.
“John Marsden is a personal friend of mine,” Nick explained. “I’ve known him most of my life. He and my father were close friends. He moved the bulk of his investment portfolio to my firm almost as soon as I started business. I know Jacobson & Kern did some work for him in the past. Now, I’m happy to say we’ll be handling one hundred percent of his investment capital.”
The room broke into sounds of surprise. Don went white. Rory sat stiff in her chair. Nick hadn’t told her yet that she’d be handling all of Marsden’s account. He hadn’t had the chance. At this point he couldn’t tell how she felt about it, but he had complete faith in her ability. She made cautious, sound investment decisions—just the kind Marsden liked.
“Who will be handling the Marsden account?” Sam asked.
“Rory Camden.”
More excited chatter filled the air. Rory stared over the top of Don Tisdale’s head, ostensibly at the piece of art—a still life oil of a ewer surrounded by green pears and clumps of grapes mounted on the opposite wall—that was first on Nick’s list of items set for removal.
“The entire account?” Sam questioned, trying hard not to sound as if he thought Nick was out of his mind.
“I’ll be working with her,” Nick said. “We’ll sort of play it as it goes.”
The glare Tisdale leveled at Rory was so intense Nick was sure he could produce a nuclear meltdown. He eyed the man dispassionately. Was there something going on between him and Rory? God, he hoped not. But if there was, he’d certainly thrown a spanner in the works by giving Rory the Marsden account. Tisdale looked sick with worry, nearly apoplectic with rage. And he didn’t strike Nick as the forgiving, understanding type, either. There was no way he and Rory could be an item. No way. Their personalities were just too different. And yet …
Rory’s eyes met Nick’s. Her lashes were so long they left shadows on her cheekbones. Her hair shone under the “state-of-the-art lighting system.” She looked so appealing that Nick momentarily forgot the purpose of this meeting. It had been too long since he’d seen her. She was his rock, his touchstone.
It was Jacobson’s turn to say his piece. He rose, tall and stately, his hair thin and white and as feathery as cotton candy, his suit at least twenty years out of date. “Paul and I were made an offer we couldn’t refuse,” he said with a touch of humor he was famous for. Polite chuckles sounded from the table. “We took a damn long time finding someone with the right qualities to take over our baby. We hope you’ll all be happy with our decision.”
He rambled on, using phrases like “wonderful corporate teamwork” and “the spirit of excellence that has always been such a part of Jacobson & Kern,” then launched into Nick’s own investment history. After finishing with something about how “Shard Limited’s incomparable reputation should speak for itself,” he sat down with the unbending regality of his generation. Nick glanced at the Jacobson & Kern employees. They all looked slightly dazed but hopeful. All except Tisdale, whose stony expression did not bode well for the future.
“More questions?” Nick asked, after thanking Jacobson for his loyalty-stirring speech.
The woman seated next to Rory tentatively lifted her hand. “I know this isn’t exactly pertinent, but I assume the benefit we’re sponsoring for the Puget Sound Children’s Hospital will still be held on schedule?”
“Yes. That’s in two weeks, right?”
Heads bobbed in assent.
“So everything basically just stays the same?” another man asked.
Nick nodded. “I know there are always bumps during any transition. I’ll do the best I know how to keep things running smoothly.”
Five minutes later the group exited the boardroom. Several people hung back, however. Rory was one. Tisdale another.
Trouble already?
Nick wondered as he helped Kern to the door. The older man leaned heavily on his cane. “Leave me alone,” he said irritably as Sam tried to pick up where Nick left off. He slapped at Sam’s hands. Shrugging, Sam let him teeter away on his own power.
Nick turned expectantly to Tisdale.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush,” he said aggressively. “I handled the Marsden account before, and then took the heat for a bad move. Marsden blamed me personally. It nearly cost me my job. Since you’re his friend, I’m sure you’ve heard all about it, but before you decide to let me go, I suggest you check my record. I’ve given out more good advice than bad. Just ask Rory.” He smiled tightly in Rory’s direction.