Perfect Partners (10 page)

She sat down across from him and fixed him with the sort of smile she usually reserved for the more obnoxious members of the Vellacott faculty. “How about intelligent? Do I look reasonably intelligent this morning, Mr. Blackstone?”

Joel narrowed his eyes. “I doubt if you could look any other way.”

“How gallant. And would you also say I appear competent to handle the pesky little details of life? Do I appear able to deal with minor stuff like phone calls and appointments, for example? Do you think I might just manage to get myself to a meeting on time if I tried real hard?
If
someone bothered to inform me about that meeting in the first place?”

Joel tossed aside the pen he had been using to mark up the file. He sat back in his chair. “Okay, I give up. What game are we playing?”

“Good question.” She smiled with chilly approval. “I was under the impression it was a game you had invented. I know for certain we've been playing it by your rules thus far.”

“You're in a weird mood this morning, Letty. Why don't you stop fooling around and tell me what the problem is? Are you upset about last night? Because, if so, you've got no cause. I thought we had an understanding.”

“I thought we did, too.” She slapped the printout down on his desk. “I talked to my ex-fiancé last night.”

“Dixon called you?”

“That's right. At home. You can imagine my surprise when I found out he had been trying to get through to me for several days here at Thornquist Gear. Apparently my secretary had been instructed not to put the calls through to me.”

Joel shrugged, looking unrepentent. “I told Bigley not to bother you with them.”

“You also gave him a few other instructions,” Letty said evenly. “Instructions that effectively keep me out of the loop here at Thornquist.”

“You
are
out of the loop. You may own Thornquist, but you don't run it. That seems to be a distinction you haven't quite grasped. I told you yesterday that the staff has to have a clear idea of just who is in charge around here.”

“You've certainly taken pains to make it clear to everyone, haven't you?”

“Letty, you make terrific lasagne, and I think you're sexy as hell, but you do not run this company. I do. Around here, things get done my way or they don't get done at all.”

Sexy as hell? Letty refused to examine that remark too closely. She would deal with it later. “I told you yesterday that I respect the fact that you are the CEO, Mr. Blackstone. But you keep forgetting that I own Thornquist Gear.”

“Believe me, I haven't forgotten that fact for one minute.”

“I insist on being kept informed. I insist that my secretary, at least, take orders from me and me alone. I insist that I be allowed to make my own decisions on whom I talk to, and I insist on being included in important meetings. Stop trying to pretend good old Great-Uncle Charlie still owns the place. Because he doesn't. I do.”

Joel sat forward suddenly, his eyes igniting with temper. “Goddamn it, Letty—”

“Ms. Thornquist in the office, if you please.”

“Goddamn it,
Ms. Thornquist
, if Charlie were still around, he'd be making arrangements to sell Thornquist Gear to me right now. Today. That was the plan. That was the way it was supposed to go down. Thornquist was supposed to be mine.”

“Well, it's not. It's mine.”

“Don't you think I damn well know that?”

Letty realized her fingers were trembling. All the ferocious restless energy she had sensed the first time she met Joel was blazing in him now. “Look, I don't like confrontations. I don't want to argue with you.”

“Then don't. Get the hell back to your own office and rewrite tent instruction manuals. Let me run Thornquist Gear.”

“I want us to work together.”

“We will, just as long as you stay out of my way and let me do my job.”

She sucked in her breath. “You don't want me here at all, do you?”

“I've told you what I want. I want you to sell the company to me.”

“I'm not prepared to do that.”

“I realize that. You want to use Thornquist to
find
yourself, don't you?” He surged to his feet and stalked to the window. “You want to use the business I've sweated blood to build up over the past ten years to put a little pizzazz in your life. You want to find passion and adventure. You want to amuse yourself with my company.”

Letty was horrified. “Joel, that's not true.”

“It is true, damn it. Don't bother denying it. We both know you decided to take up the reins of Thornquist only because you were bored with life back in Indiana.”

Letty suddenly felt queasy. “Joel, I have to ask you something.”

“Go right ahead. You're the boss.”

She winced under his heavy sarcasm, but forced herself to ask the question she desperately needed answered. She moistened her lips. “I have to know if the reason you came to dinner last night—” She broke off and went straight to the point. “If you kissed me and let me think you were interested in a relationship with me because you thought you could control me with sex.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, not turning around.

“I have to know, Joel. Was it just one more control tactic, like manipulating my office procedures and giving orders to my secretary? Because, if so, I can save you a lot of trouble by telling you up front that it wouldn't have worked.”

“Is that so?” He slanted her a chilling glance over his shoulder.

“Yes, it's so. Just ask Philip.” Letty got to her feet, afraid that she was about to burst into tears. She refused to lose control of her emotions in front of him.

Joel swung around and caught hold of her arm as she started for the door. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind.” She wished she had kept her mouth shut.

“Lady, you are not getting out of here until you tell me what you meant by that remark.”

She looked up, saw his expression, and she believed him. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and glared at him. Her cheeks were burning. “I meant what I said. I am not vulnerable to that particular approach. Sex is not high on my list of priorities.”

He looked incredulous. “You expect me to believe that after that kiss last night?”

“I'm not saying I'm totally uninterested,” she informed him stiffly. “But to be perfectly blunt, I find it vastly overrated. In short, sleeping with the boss is not going to get you anywhere in your career, Mr. Blackstone. I just thought you ought to know.”

“Thanks for the tip. I'll keep that in mind.”

“You do that.” Letty felt better now. Stronger. She was definitely not going to cry. “I think you should also know that things are going to be run a little differently around here.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes.” She straightened her shoulders and freed herself from his grasp. She walked back to the desk and picked up the printout she had brought with her. “From now on, I want to be kept in the loop. And for starters, you can tell me why Thornquist Gear owns fifty-one percent of a failing company called Copeland Marine Industries.”

C
hrist, he really hated this town. He had not realized just how much until tonight.

He had left Echo Cove fifteen years ago. Today was the first time he had been back. From what he could tell this afternoon during the drive through the small downtown section, little had changed.

Echo Cove was still Victor Copeland's personal kingdom by the sea.

Joel concentrated on knotting his tie as he listened to the wind in the trees outside the motel room window. He could hear Letty moving about in the room next door. She was probably putting on one of her staid little business suits, the kind with the patented automatic wrinkling device built right in.

It was her fault he was in this damn motel room dressing for dinner with Victor Copeland tonight. The fuse on the firecracker that was Letty had been lit. Joel knew he was going to have to work very hard to make certain it did not explode in his hands. Joel grimaced as he recalled the scene in his office.

“Why does Thornquist Gear own fifty-one percent of a company called Copeland Marine Industries?” she'd wanted to know.

He had been expecting the question. It was inevitable the deal would eventually surface and equally inevitable that Letty would be curious about it. Her curiosity, it seemed, knew few boundaries.

The problem with Letty's inevitable question was that Joel had not been expecting it that morning two days ago. She had hurled it at him after all that other garbage about not giving orders to her secretary and not thinking he could use sex to control her.

His brain had still been working on the interesting notion of manipulating Letty with passion when she had dropped the little bomb about Copeland Marine.

Joel had scrambled for his prepared answer: “Copeland Marine is a small company that specializes in boat outfitting and repair. They handle marine engines, deck layout, custom work. That kind of thing. They have a yard out on the coast in Echo Cove.”

“So why do we own a controlling interest?”

Joel had picked his words carefully. “The company has been sliding into financial hot water for some time. A year ago they approached Thornquist about a possible buyout. They needed an infusion of cash and in exchange were willing to sell us fifty-one percent of the company.”

“And we went for the deal? Just like that? But Copeland Marine has nothing to do with camping gear or sporting goods.”

“Charlie didn't see it that way,” Joel had explained carefully. “You know your great-uncle. He was a sucker for anything that had to do with fishing. He did the deal over my objections. It was one of the few times in the past ten years that he overrode me.” Lies, all lies. Charlie had known nothing and cared less. He had simply signed whatever Joel told him to sign.

Letty scowled. “But Copeland is still in trouble, according to the figures in this file.”

“Unfortunately, yes. In fact, they're worse off than they were a year ago when they came to us.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Only one thing we can do under the circumstances. We're going to have to take over Copeland Marine and liquidate the assets.”

“Liquidate? That's pretty drastic, isn't it? I've read some articles on this type of maneuver. A lot of people will be put out of work.”

“That's the way it goes,” Joel said coolly. “Business is business.”

“Does Copeland Marine know we're planning to move in and liquidate their assets?”

“No. Copeland hasn't been told yet. When the time is right I'll let them know what's happening.”

Joel had been planning to handle that detail personally. He wanted to see Victor Copeland's face when the older man realized who was really behind Thornquist Gear and what fate had in store for him.

Joel wanted to look straight into Copeland's eyes when he found out that his little kingdom was about to be sacked and destroyed.

What Joel had not figured into his calculations was Letty's response to the whole thing. Yesterday morning, after apparently dwelling on the matter for a full day, she had marched back into his office and told him she wanted to take a look at Copeland Marine Industries herself before making a final decision to liquidate.

Before Joel could think of a way to stop her, she had told her secretary to call Victor Copeland and tell him that the new president of Thornquist Gear was on her way to Echo Cove to review the situation.

Joel barely had time to order Mrs. Sedgewick to make reservations for two at the Marina Motel.

He convinced Letty he should accompany her and told her they might as well drive out to the coast together. Joel spent the two-hour trip talking. Fast. He went into great detail about the hard realities of the business world. He carefully explained that Thornquist Gear could not pour good money after bad. Copeland Marine had to be liquidated.

He was not sure if Letty had been paying attention to his lecture, however. She'd had a rather vague, distracted, faraway look in her eyes. She appeared to be lost in thought somewhere deep inside herself.

The invitation to join Victor Copeland for dinner had been waiting for Letty when she checked into the motel with Joel an hour earlier.

“You might as well come along, Joel,” Letty had said as she picked up her key. “I hope you brought a jacket and tie. This is a business dinner, you know.”

What the hell. He didn't mind wearing a tie when he told Victor Copeland it was all over.

He finished adjusting the knot on the tie and picked his jacket up off the bed. It had gotten a little crushed in the back seat of the Jeep, but he was willing to bet he would look less rumpled than Letty did. Joel hooked the jacket over his shoulder as he went to the connecting door and rapped loudly.

“Just a minute,” Letty called.

The door opened a moment later, and Letty peered up at him, scowling thoughtfully. Joel hid a grim smile. Letty's heavy tweed suit already looked as if she had slept in it. Her hair was in its usual feisty state, already struggling to break free of the clip at the nape of her neck.

Joel was annoyed with her and uneasy about the recent turn of events, but he could not help thinking that she looked remarkably cuddly. He had to keep reminding himself just how dangerous the lady was.

Letty pushed her glasses up on her nose and gave him a brisk nod of approval. “You look very nice.”

“What did you think I was going to wear? Jeans?”

“From what I've seen of your normal business attire, I couldn't be certain how you would dress for a formal business dinner.” Letty turned away and stepped into her high heels. “Are you ready? We're due at the restaurant in twenty minutes.”

“Don't worry. The restaurant is on the other side of the marina. We can walk to it in ten.”

Letty brightened. “Good. I'd like to see more of the town. I want to get a feel for the place.”

“Why?”

She gave him an unreadable glance. “I just do, that's all.”

“Suit yourself.”

She smiled a little too sweetly. “I will. After all, I am the boss, right?”

“You're the boss,” Joel agreed softly. “Just remember that a lot of money is at stake here. Don't go making any rash statements tonight, Letty.”

“I told you, I just want to meet Copeland and talk to him personally before Thornquist Gear makes a final decision on liquidation.”

“The final decision has been made,” Joel told her. “It's too late to change it. I explained that to you on the way down here. I went over all the figures with you. The only thing left to do is inform Copeland that there will be no extension on his loan and no further investment cash from us.”

“Well, for heaven's sake, don't tell him over dinner.”

“All right. I can wait,” Joel said.

But there would be no waiting. The instant Victor Copeland saw Joel at Letty's side, he would know it was all over for him.

Letty surveyed the lights of the Echo Cove marina as she and Joel made their way along the waterfront. Only a handful of brightly painted private yachts and cruisers were tied up at the docks. The vast majority of the boats were clearly working craft. Fishing vessels of all sizes made up most of the small fleet.

Everything from small aluminum outboards to large commercial trawlers bobbed in the water. Many of them needed paint, but all of them appeared neat and orderly. Nets and lines and a variety of gear were stacked on the decks. Letty wrinkled her nose at the smell of fish that hung in the air.

“So this is Echo Cove,” she said into the heavy silence that had persisted between Joel and her since they left the motel.

“Yeah.”

“It's not a very large town.”

“No, it's not large.”

“Copeland Marine must be one of the main industries.”

“Biggest company in town. There's a commercial fishing outfit that works out of here, but it's small compared to Copeland.”

Letty thought about that. “Then Copeland is the largest employer in town.”

Joel slanted her an unreadable glance. “Yeah.”

Letty said nothing more as they walked the rest of the way to the restaurant. She did not know what to make of Joel tonight. He had seemed to change this afternoon when they had driven through town.

Tonight she was aware more than ever of the tension deep within him. It seemed to be growing and coiling, drawing him as dangerously taut as a nocked bow. She had a hunch this would be one of the nights when he would want to run at one o'clock in the morning.

But from what she could see, there was no place to run here in Echo Cove.

Five minutes later Joel opened the door of the Echo Cove Sea Grill. The restaurant sported a huge neon fish on the roof and boasted a marina view. A large roaring fire blazed on the stone hearth that dominated the entrance area.

Letty smiled at the hostess. “The Thornquist party. I believe Mr. Victor Copeland is expecting us.”

The hostess, a heavily made up woman in her early forties, was wearing a dress that was a size too small for her ripe figure. Her hair was the color of straw and had been teased to a fare-thee-well. She glanced at Letty, but her gaze skipped immediately to Joel.

“Mr. Copeland said he was expecting only one guest,” the hostess said, still staring at Joel.

“There's been a last-minute change. I hope that won't be a problem.” Letty watched the hostess with some irritation. The woman obviously could not take her eyes off Joel. For his part, Joel had lost interest after a short nod of greeting. He was scanning the dimly lit lounge, which was just off to the right.

“Uh, sure. Sure. No problem.” The hostess plucked a second menu out of the stack. “I'll have one of the busboys grab an extra chair.” She stared at Joel again. “Excuse me, sir. Do I know you? You look awfully familiar.”

“Blackstone,” Joel said calmly. “Joel Blackstone.”

The hostess's eyes widened in surprise. “Well, I'll be darned. I thought it was you, Joel. Marcy Stovall. Remember me? I worked at the bowling alley when you were in high school.”

“I remember.”

“What in the world are you doing back here—” Marcy broke off abruptly. When she continued, her voice started to rise. “Wait a second. You're here with Ms. Thornquist? You're going to have dinner with the Copelands tonight?”

Joel smiled without any warmth. “Looks like it.”

“Holy shit,” Marcy breathed. “This should be interesting.” She jerked her gaze back to Letty. “This way, please.” She led the way into the dimly lit eating area.

Letty shot Joel an angry, baffled glance. “What is going on here?” she whispered.

“I used to live here in Echo Cove. Guess I forgot to mention it.”

“I guess you did,” she snapped. “What in the world…?”

But it was too late to grill him further. Marcy came to a halt beside a table for six that had been set for only four. Two men and a woman were already seated.

The older man dominated the table by virtue of sheer bulk. He was a mountain of a man who seemed to be composed of equal parts muscle and fat. His gray suit strained across his huge midsection and was equally tight across his massive shoulders. He had pale eyes that were nearly lost in his florid, heavily jowled face. As Letty approached, he lumbered to his feet, smiled genially, and held out a hand the size of a side of beef.

“Miss Thornquist? Victor Copeland. I was sorry to hear about Charlie Thornquist's death. Never met him personally, but we did business together.”

“Thank you,” Letty murmured as she briefly lost her fingers inside his massive grasp. “Do you know my CEO, Joel Blackstone?”

“We've met,” Joel said. He stepped out of the shadows so that those at the table could see him clearly for the first time.

Somehow, Letty thought, she was not at all surprised by the stunned expressions on the faces of Copeland and the lovely woman who sat beside him as they turned to stare at Joel. The other man at the table, however, merely nodded with the normal response one expected between strangers.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Victor Copeland muttered, eyes narrowing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“
Joel
.” The woman looked as if she were seeing a ghost. “My God. What on earth is going on?”