Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever Girl\Moonlight in Paris\Wife by Design (15 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

T
HE
DAY
AFTER
soccer practice, Graham trudged into the office, cursing the key that always stuck in his office door. He flipped on the lights, glad he was the first one at the office. Somehow the stillness of the warehouse comforted him. In the small quiet of the morning he felt he could accomplish anything.

He surveyed his domain as he set down his briefcase. Finally all the old files had been removed and the office was in workable shape. Plans for the upcoming season, some drawn by Tess, others by Dave Wegmann, the designer, littered the table, ready for Graham to review and stamp with his seal of approval. He'd had to rely on skills he hadn't used in years to tweak a few plans, and that very day he had meetings scheduled with two krewe captains looking to rent at least twelve floats. Their themes had been turned in weeks ago, but the work had gone unfinished because Tess had left. Graham had divided them between him and Dave. Though Graham had never been talented creatively, he'd managed to get some ideas on paper for a series of Egyptian-themed floats.

He needed to hire somebody else in design, but had left the position open for several weeks more because he'd hoped Tess's anger would grow cold and she'd come back to Ullo and resume the work she'd left behind.

Damn stubborn woman.

A sound outside the door had him spinning in his chair.

Dave peeked inside.

“Oh, hey. You're here early.” The man was clasping a folder in hands that looked too large to wield a drafting pencil skillfully. Dave looked nervous.

“Have to get here early—we have a lot to do,” Graham said, motioning him inside.

Dave grunted and came in, setting the folder on the worktable. “Here are the sketches for Caesar's Muse floats. I think it's going to work nicely. Maybe have to have the carpenters do some adjustments on the ship. Wasn't sure if it would come in under the height maximum. We gotta clear the Causeway Bridge.”

Graham leafed through the drawings and specifications. “Looks good. Are we going to have room for the waves on the back of the float?”

Dave shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe.”

Graham lifted his eyebrows. “Dunno?”

“Look, I wanted to talk to you anyhow. I've been thinking about making a change.”

“A change?”

“Yeah, I've been here a long time, you know?”

Graham felt something sink in his stomach. He'd wanted to talk to Dave later today about stepping up to fill Tess's position and then maybe hiring a grad student from Delgado's art program to train as a designer. He had to do something to fill the gap Tess left, but the words coming out of Dave's mouth made him long for the Pepto-Bismol he had hidden in his drawer. “Don't tell me you're leaving?”

“Sorry. I have an offer from Toledano Bros. It's closer to my house and with Tess gone and Frank sick, I feel like it's a good time to leave.”

“I'll give you Tess's job.”

“You should have weeks ago,” Dave said, crossing his arms and trying to look angry. The man didn't seem to have much ire in him, so it was akin to a toddler refusing a vegetable.

“I had hoped to talk Tess into coming back—that's the only reason I didn't ask you to step into her shoes.”

“Yeah, well.” Dave shrugged and looked away. “I've been here forever, but I ain't good with change and I ain't good working with them asshole krewe captains, so I really don't want Tess's old job. Figure if everyone else is changing things, it's a good time to make this one for myself. Here's my letter.”

Graham sighed, wishing he could slam his fist on the desk instead. “There's no way I can talk you into staying? Ullo needs you. I need you.”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Naquin. I've made my mind up.” The large man stepped back, ducking his head. “I'll stay for the next two weeks, give you time to find someone else.”

Mild panic knocked at the door to Graham's soul. Sliding into the CEO's position at a stable, reputable company was supposed to be easy. But Frank Ullo Float Builders was no longer stable. Mere weeks into the job and everything had started unraveling at an alarming rate. “What about Frank?”

Dave stopped in flight. “That's who I feel the worst about, Mr. Naquin. Frank's been like a father to me.”

“Then why abandon him when he's down?”

The man's head shot up. “I'm not—”

“Yeah, you are. This company is in transition and we need stability. We need men like you.” He stopped short of begging, but thought if he had to drop to his knees, he might.

“I already told Mack I'd come over to Toledano. Rita wants me to work there, too. Gas is high as a cat's back and I ain't exactly getting younger.”

“Just through this season. With a raise. And then we can see how you feel.”

Dave cast his eyes toward the table with all the plans spread out, labeled by krewe and float number. Several seconds ticked by as the man grappled with the offer...with thoughts of doing what was right for the company he'd help build into prominence. “I suppose I owe Frank that much.”

Graham stopped a huge sigh of relief. He didn't want Dave to know how scared he was to lose him. Or maybe he did. Appealing to Dave's sense of decency worked. “Thank you, Dave. I appreciate that on Frank's behalf. It will be a comfort to him during this hard time.”

Dave nodded. “Okay, I gotta go call Rita. She's going to be pissed, but maybe the raise will help. How much will I get?”

“Whatever Tess made.”

“I was already making what Tess made. Her old man didn't give her more just because she was his daughter.”

“Okay, I'll look at the numbers. This was off-the-cuff, man. Honestly, I'm going to have to look at—”

“In good time, Mr. Naquin,” Dave said, a slight smile around his mouth. “Maybe you need to call a meeting. You know, announce Frank's illness officially and tell everyone you need help. They don't know you, but they love Frank, and nothing makes a person feel like helping out more than knowing they're needed.”

Graham paused in sifting through the images and looked up at Dave. “First, please call me Graham. And second, thank you. Not just for staying, but for realizing I need help. You're right. I need to stop trying to spin plates and build a team.”

Dave nodded. “No one knows you yet. Everyone's on pins and needles, scared about stuff, about Frank, about Tess, about losing business. But we'll all feel better if you are more accessible. This ain't about being a CEO or a COO or whatever you're calling it. It's about leading a team. You can't lead what you don't know. That's what made Frank and Tess good. They knew us, loved us. That's what works in this business.”

“You're absolutely right. Guess I've had my head up my ass.” Graham walked over to Dave and extended his hand. “You came in to quit, but you just may have ended up saving Frank Ullo Float Builders. Thank you, Dave.”

The man took his hand. “This is gonna sound nuts, but I actually feel relieved. I really didn't want to leave—just wanted to feel like I was valued. How about we have pizza at that meeting? And you might want to invite some of the seasonal people, too. Let everyone in on your plan for continuing Frank Ullo's success.”

A plan? He'd had one, but problems had started flying at him. He'd wanted to meet with each head—carpenters, sculptors and painters—to talk about new materials, better construction, efficiency. Keeping up with Tess and Upstart had started wearing on him. But Dave was right. Before he could go out and reconquer the Mardi Gras world, he had get his foundation secure. That meant getting the employees of Frank Ullo on board with a vision. He needed them to feel good about where and who they worked for.

“Pizza sounds perfect,” Graham said, eyeing the high metal desk sitting just inside the office area. Billie wasn't here yet, but he'd take Dave's approach—tell the woman how much he needed her. How much Frank needed her.

Maybe hearing an appeal for help would soften the woman.... Maybe he'd get fresh coffee without having to make it himself.

As that thought hit him, Billie walked into the office area, carrying a box of Krispy Kreme Donuts and a frown. “Frickin' traffic is absurd. I nearly got sideswiped by some idiot on the bridge.”

“Morning, Buttercup,” Dave crowed.

Billie gave him the finger. Dave's laugh echoed in the lobby.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to talk to Billie right now. Her mood wasn't bad...it was putrid.

But then she smiled, obviously enjoying the ragging she gave Dave. Then she zeroed in on Graham and her expression changed.

“Good morning, Billie,” he said.

“What's good about it?” she asked, her expression dead serious.

“You're alive and have donuts?”

She stared at him for a few seconds. “Okay, there's that.”

“When you have a second, I want to talk to you about having a staff meeting for everyone here at Ullo.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You want to call a meeting in the warehouse?”

“I think we need one, don't you?” Graham said, shooting a glance to Dave who nodded his agreement.

“About Frank?” Billie asked setting down the donuts and switching on her computer.

“And Tess and the situation we're facing in securing the same business we've had for the past few decades. We need everyone to channel their energies and offer up solutions. Basically, we need to have a come-to-Jesus meeting.”

Billie looked thoughtful. “Okay. I can shoot a memo to all the departments to make it official, but the easiest way will be to call all the heads of the departments. When you want it?”

“Sooner rather than later,” Dave interrupted.

“I thought you were quitting?” Billie asked Dave.

“Graham talked me out of it.”

She turned to Graham. “Really? This guy talked you out of going to Toledano?”

Graham smiled. “I do have talents.”

“I never thought you didn't.”

“Well, I'm not sure it was talent. I'm pretty sure a grown man near to tears helped bring him around. I fell just short of hitting my knees and begging.”

Dave laughed. “It wasn't that bad.”

“Thankfully, I didn't have to do either of those things, but I was prepared. I need you, Dave.” And then he looked at Billie. “I need you, too. I've been trying so hard to hold things together, to give everyone the impression I have everything under control.”

Billie straightened. “Well, then. I think we need that meeting and we need some pizza for lunch. Those guys will do anything if you set a pie in front of them.”

Graham smiled. “Dave said the same thing. Order whatever pizza you want and set it for tomorrow. We've got to get back on track. For Frank's sake.”

Billie lifted her coffee mug. “For Frank's sake.”

Dave nodded. “Damn straight.”

* * *

F
RANK
LOOKED
AT
THE
PHONE
as if it were defective before setting it back on his bedside table.

He felt like shit. The doctors hadn't lied when they said the cancer-killing meds surging through his bloodstream would rob him of his energy. No, not just his energy, but his flippin' manhood. He'd tried to put on a game face for Maggie, but he knew she knew. It was a game they played. A game all married couples played.

“Did you get in touch with her?” Maggie asked, entering their bedroom with a cup of tea. She'd gone to a health food store and come back with all kinds of disgusting tasting teas and several packages of nasty gum that were supposed to beat back the nausea.

“She don't answer,” he said, making a face at the steaming cup that smelled like the backside of a troll...or what he imagined a troll's backside to smell like. “She ain't ready to talk to me yet.”

“Tess is stubborn. Like Bella.”

Frank sighed. When he'd tenderly taken his mother's hand and revealed his diagnosis, she'd uttered words he'd never heard her use before...right before telling him to get the hell out of her house. Then she'd called him a liar and accused him of playing with her emotions. She'd even thrown a bottle of menthol rub at him.

Frank hadn't known how to handle the diminutive woman who'd called him a selfish son-of-a-bitch, and he damned sure wasn't going to point out her insult actually doubled back on her. He'd merely picked up the—thankfully plastic—bottle of menthol rub, set it on the chest Bella had imported from the old country and shut the door softly behind him.

The heavy wood didn't block out the sound of his mother crying.

God, there was no way a man could prepare himself for hearing his mother sob her heart out, especially when it was something he'd never heard before. Not even during those hard years of covering her bruised face with pancake makeup and losing a baby at the hands of the bastard Frank had never called father had Bella lost control of her emotions.

Maggie rubbed his shoulder, drawing his thoughts back to Tess and the reason she wouldn't respond to his call. “Time is all she needs.”

“Who? Mom or Tess?”

“Both of them?”

“My mother is in her nineties, Mags. And there is that time thing.”

Maggie arched an eyebrow but didn't say what they were both thinking. Time wasn't exactly overflowing from his pockets.

“Well, I've had about all I can stand of her stubbornness—Tess not Bella—and if our daughter doesn't call you before Sunday, she and I are going to have a little heart-to-heart.”

“Don't, Maggie. Let her alone. She'll come around.”

“Yeah, she will, even if I have to plant my foot on her rump.” Maggie held out the tea. “Now have a bit of this to help with the ickies.”

“I don't want it, Mags.”

“Come on, Frank. You'll feel better.”