Deep Dixie (6 page)

“
Are you making some kind of accusation, Miss Fulton- Leigh?
”

“
No, but I have the feeling
you
are, Mr. Greenhow.
”
Her pulse fluttered like a scared rabbit
’
s but she dared not back down now. Fear and uncertainty would not win out today. She would be strong and sure. She would be her father
’
s daughter and starting now she would not let anyone ever doubt that.
“
Why don
’
t you just come out and say what you mean? I can tell you want to leave me with the impression that I should not even try to deal with my daddy
’
s business and I want to hear why you think that.
”

A thin veil of sweat beaded up on the man
’
s now-flushed forehead.
“
Well, there have been some questions...some speculations... some...
”

“
Down and dirty, mealy-mouthed, too-good-to-be-true and too-juicy-to-be-kept-to-yourself gossip?
”
She was just trying to help the man get to the meat of things.

“
Some
conjectural
discourse.
”
He ignored her help, mopped his brow with a white handkerchief he
’
d produced from his pocket, and went on without missing a beat.
“
Myself, I have nothing but respect for the way your father has conducted himself professionally.
”

“
But?
”

“
But
...
”
He bobbed his head as he spoke, his gestures close to his body.
“
You can see for yourself that your father had begun to let things slip these last few months.
”

She couldn
’
t deny that
. “
So, does all this..
”
she slung her arm out to indicate the confusion of paper everywhere,
“
…mean the company is in some kind of serious trouble?
”

“
No, No!
”
He paced a few steps, tentatively, as if he were stalking something elusive.

She sighed in relief.
“
I thought not.
”

He pivoted on his heel and went in for the kill.
“
I
’
d have never allowed that to happen!
”

“
My
father
would never have allowed that to happen.
”
She would not allow this little man to trod on Daddy
’
s memory to put himself and his firm in a better position to move in and take things over.
“
And let me assure you, Mr. Greenhow, neither will I.
”

“
Of course.
”
He tugged at his tie.
“
Of course. It
’
s just that there are a few problems that need immediate attention before they get out of hand.
”

“
Such as?
”

He narrowed one eye at her and frowned. Or maybe the growing irritation with her that affected his stance and the tightness in his voice now had him squinting and grimacing involuntarily.
“
Frankly, Miss Fulton-Leigh, your payroll is too big and your benefits package too generous.
”

“
And it
’
s your advice that this company should cut back on those?
”
She
’
d heard Daddy rail against Greenhow
’
s ideas before. They had been the family attorneys since the senior Greenhow, a childhood friend of her father
’
s, had drawn up the incorporation papers over thirty years ago. He
’
d kept them on because they were hometown folks, an old friend, he
’
d said. But Dixie thought her daddy probably actually liked locking horns with stubby old Howard now and then, especially since Daddy never had any doubt over who would win out in those contests of will and opinion.

Dixie, on the other hand, found it all distasteful and a waste of precious time. So she played Greenhow
’
s part for him to hurry things along.

“
While we
’
re at it, maybe we should think about using a lower grade of materials in our furniture? The customers won
’
t know they
’
re sitting on inferior padding, fabric, frames. Who
’
s going to tell them? The workers we haven
’
t laid off will be too afraid for their jobs to speak up.
”
She stood and walked around the now empty desk, kicking aside receipts and files as she did.
“
Meanwhile, the company will be able to lay back and rest easy on the nice, fat cushion of a larger bottom line.
”

“
You say it like I
’
m suggesting you should steal milk money from grade-schoolers and rob little old ladies of their life savings tucked away in the sugar jar.
”
His face puckered.

Dixie turned on her heels, the paper beneath her feet rustling and crackling as she made her way back to the old office chair behind the desk.
“
Well, aren
’
t you?
”

He clenched his jaw so tightly his lips turned practically white.

She supposed that was the only answer she would get from him on that so she dropped into the seat again. The old wheels shuddered and creaked.

“
Actually, those are just some ideas of mine, some areas that need to be addressed.
”
He smiled. It was the kind of smile that made her feel like brushing off unseen cobwebs and other creepy things.
“
There are other issues here, at the plant. The trucking department must be seen to right away. You know your grandfather won
’
t—
”

She held her hand up.
“
Let
’
s leave my grandfather out of this, please.
”

“
Then that leads us right to another concern, your...personal domain? That might prove very distracting if someone really needed to focus all her energy on business.
”

She knew exactly what he was getting at, but she wanted to hear him say it.
“
Go on.
”

Greenhow raised his chin, or at least one of them.
“
We have, many of us who worked so closely with your father, found ourselves...more than a little concerned...over the ways in which your father, for want of a better word,
indulged
his family members...
”

“
Indulged
.
”
She drew the word out in a rich, hushed tone, like someone savoring the first taste of fine chocolate.
“
Ahhh. Now we
’
re getting to it, aren
’
t we?
”

A look of studied deliberation clouded Greenhow
’
s face. He rocked back and forth, sizing her up, clearly calculating just how much of his thinly concealed contempt she would stand for.

A pity he didn
’
t know he
’
d passed that mile marker a long time ago. Dixie rose again, slowly this time, from the worn leather chair where her daddy had commanded his empire for the last thirty-odd years. She strained to maintain control over every aching muscle and managed, out of sheer determination, not to let this man see any weakness in her.

Greenhow drew a breath and cocked his head. He opened his mouth as if preparing to say
something big, or maybe he planned to try to cut her down to size.

She never gave him the chance. Grit and grace were her God-given gifts, and she utilized them both. Straightening her back and folding her arms over her chest, she pinned him with a look.
“
You are trying to say, as tactfully as you know how, I
’
m sure, that this is too taxing a job for a spoiled Southern belle who
’
s only training comes from a few years in a cushy job marketing the family business. That it is far beyond the grasp of someone so woefully unprepared to tackle the real, day-today trials of running the Fultons
’
businesses, much less handle the delicate financial conundrums of managing my great-grandfather
’
s fortune.
”

“
It
’
s a big job for anyone,
”
he muttered, his pudgy fingers clawing at the small knot in his silk tie.
“
I was only trying to suggest—
”

“
Oh, I know what you want to suggest, Mr. Greenhow. I know what you
’
d tell me to my face, were you not so impressed with yourself and your pitiful game of cat and mouse. You
’
d tell me that the world of business and money is no place for a woman like me. That I should let you handle everything.
”

“
We are more familiar with the...situation here, Miss Fulton-Leigh, and able to take the reins immediately.
”
The deep, garbled tone of his words belied the heart-attack-red color in his face.

“
So, I should just let you get on with the real work? Don
’
t ask questions? Don
’
t get involved? You
’
ll take care of every little thing on the business front? And me? I can go home and attend to the kind of thing I am far better suited for?
”
she lowered her voice to a quiet rumble.
“
Playing warden over the family nuthouse.
”

His eyes widened.

“
Is that what you
’
re trying to say, Mr. Greenhow?
”

He pulled himself up to his full five-feet-two-inches and puffed out his chest.
“
I would never describe you or your family that way, Miss Fulton-Leigh.
”

“
Well, not to my face, you wouldn
’
t.
”
Her sarcasm was borne more of exhaustion than of ill manners.

She
was
tired. More tired than she had ever thought it humanly possible to be. She plopped back in her chair and put her hand to her forehead, relishing the coolness of her fingertips against her throbbing temple.

“
I hope you don
’
t take this the wrong way, Miss Fulton- Leigh, but it
’
s not a bad thing for you to realize that you may not be able to tend to everything you
’
ve just been handed all by yourself. You need some help.
”

“
You mean a man
’
s help?
”

“
I mean
help
. I won
’
t pretend that I don
’
t think a man
’
s help—a
husband
’
s
help, perhaps—wouldn
’
t be in order long about now.
”

“
A husband.
”
The whispered word created a gentle buzz on

Dixie
’
s lips. Greenhow wasn
’
t the first person to remind her that in this hour of need a husband might have come in pretty handy.

Dixie herself had thought it off and on many times since she got the call that her daddy was being rushed to the hospital. She touched her fingertips to her hairline then stopped herself from trying to run them through the triple layer of styling spritz that kept her hair tightly to her head.

A husband
. Someone that she could lean on and trust, someone she could depend on for support and safekeeping. A person who would always be there for her, listen to her. Someone who would give as much to the relationship as Dixie did, who would cherish and appreciate her, even if he did not always agree with her. Someone she could completely trust as a partner—in business and in life. Did such a creature exist?