The Sunday Arrangement (2 page)

Maverick
nudged his son with one drooping shoulder.

“And
I’m his son, Pierce Maverick,” the younger man said finally, a smirk etched
across his gorgeous face. He limply held out his hand as though he wouldn’t
deign to give me the respect of a proper handshake.

“Pleasure,”
I forced myself to say as our palms met. His touch radiated heat, and a jolt of
energy waved through me. My breath caught, and I willed myself not to blush.

“Please
have a seat,” my father said, gesturing toward the large chairs behind his
desk. “Let’s get down to business.” The men nodded respectfully and sat down in
the leather chairs.

“So
what’s going on?” I asked, forcing myself to turn away from the hauntingly
handsome man. “Forgive my frankness, but this does seem rather unusual . . .”

“I
need you to put aside your current projects, Lauren. It appears that Pierce
here has come up with an interesting proposal to bring our two companies
together and I—”

“Our
companies . . . together?”

My
father’s face told me my question was a mistake.

“And
I would really like you to work with him to develop it,” he continued quickly. “Show
him the ropes, so to speak, since he is barely out of school and—”

“I
assure you, sir,” Pierce sneered, “I have the proper training and education for
this job, probably even more than your daughter here, if you don’t mind my
saying so. My father has seen to that.”

Ire
rose in me as I saw the arrogant look he gave my father. My desire to play nice
quickly evaporated. Good-looking or not, this guy was a prick with a chip on
his broad shoulders. Clenching my fists, I miraculously refrained from spewing
a few belittling words in his direction. There was no way this fetus had more
knowledge of this business than I did.
Come back to me after five years of
hard cubical time, buddy
.

My
father softly hummed to himself. His aged forehead wrinkled in distress. I
could tell the young man’s arrogance grated on his last nerve, as it did mine.
“Yes, I’m sure you are both very qualified,” he said flatly. “No one is trying
to discredit you, son. Lauren is one of our research and development experts.
I’m sure you two will work well together.”

“I
have no doubt that we will,” Pierce agreed a little too quickly for my comfort.

We’ll
see about that.
I looked at Pierce while my father’s deep
voice droned on about the upcoming project. I wanted to see exactly whom I’d be
working with these upcoming months
.
I’d seen him at black-tie events
every few years; society functions were normal for families like ours in New York.
But I’d never seen him this close, especially not recently. Before now, he had
always looked like a teenage boy to me—just another snotty rich kid waiting for
his father to keel over.

Today,
however, he looked like a man. His dirty blond hair was long and curly on top,
but cut short on the sides. His jaw, angled and strong. His pointed chin
revealed a small dimple in the middle of it, which I peculiarly found charming.
And his eyes, true to his name, were piercing. I glanced at his hands, folded
neatly in his lap. I wondered what those soft hands of his could do to me . . .

“Lauren?”
My father’s voice interrupted my detailed study of this stranger’s face.

Pierce
turned toward me and grinned coyly.

I
felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. He knew I’d been staring. Damn it!
Quickly,
I glanced to the clock on the wall behind him. I could practically feel his ego
swell from across the room as the air around me grew warm.

“Yes.
Yes, I’ll be more than happy to show Pierce the ropes,” I said quickly.

“Pierce,
why don’t you come back tomorrow to work on things with my daughter and get all
the formalities straightened out,” my father offered. “Agreements signed, that
sort of thing? I’ll brief her this afternoon on the specifics of the project.
For now, I think we are done here. Do you agree, Peter?” he asked, reaching
across his desk to shake hands.

My
father’s long-time rival slowly nodded his head but ignored the civil gesture
my father offered. “I look forward to seeing this project come to life,” he
said curtly.

I
saw my father’s extended hand curl into a fist, the whites of his knuckles
evident to us all.

My
heart pumped quickly as I anticipated an argument between the two men. Eager to
see the Maverick men leave, I quickly escorted them to the door. “It will be
good for both of our companies,” I said with more confidence than I felt. I
held the heavy oak door open for the two men and tried desperately not to stare
at Pierce as he left. “See you tomorrow, Ms. Hart,” he said. I nodded, and
watched Peter Maverick guide his son by the shoulder.

Pierce
looked back and gave me a look that sent a chill running down my spine, and then
he left the room.

I
bit my lip. I refused to let that handsome twerp get to me. My father gestured
for me to take a seat across from him.

I sat
down. “Why are you doing this, Dad? Last time I checked, you hated the Mavericks.”

He
sighed heavily before sitting down himself. “I may hate the man, but if it
weren’t for him, I would have never worked so hard to build what I have now.”
He folded his aged hands on his desk. His gold wedding band shimmered in the
florescent light. “I can’t deny that the idea his son has come up with is a
good one. Both our companies will benefit from the profit this project is sure
to accrue. And I don’t think I need to remind you that Hart Corp is in desperate
need of something profitable right now. This dry patch is killing us.”

My
mind wandered to the stack of blueprints scattered around my cluttered office—my
answer to the unexpected decline in production the company had been
experiencing the last several months.

“It
will also give us a new people-friendly image. Perhaps it will even get the press
off our backs about the bad blood between our businesses and families. It’ll be
well worth working with them.”

“Maybe
for you. I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with the kid.”

My
father raised his thick, gray eyebrows. “I didn’t realize there was animosity
there. Do you two have a history I don’t know about?”

I
leaned toward his massive desk, my hands on my knees. “You’re joking, right?”

“Am
I ever?”

“Dad,
you’re the reason I hate the Mavericks. It’s not something I have a legitimate
reason for, I guess. It’s just that you instilled this hatred in Toby and me
since we were in diapers.”

“I’ve
never known you to hate someone so thoroughly.”

“Surely
you’re not about to give me a lecture on loving my neighbor, Dad. . . .”

My
dad’s large hand ran through his thinning white hair. “All I’m asking you to do
is be civil. No matter what family biases we may have, Pierce is your business
partner now. You should act accordingly. Give him a chance before you make up
your mind about him.”

“What
is this genius idea of his anyway? The boy is barely out of college.”

“A
casino, actually. He wants to build one that is bigger and better than any
before it. Five-star restaurants, luxury spas, charity balls—the works!” His
voice raised in forced excitement as though he needed me to believe him.

“Explain
to me exactly how this is going to work,” I said. “Sounds like a lot of money for
a very common idea to me.”

“That’s
the beauty, my dear. Even the average tourist will be able to afford the
packages we will offer.”

My
father had finally lost it. “We will be losing money hand over fist if we build
something of that size for people of such little means!”

“Not
necessarily. We offer them rates middle-income families can afford, but we will
also sell bigger packages to wealthy families who will get more activities and
passes to certain VIP areas within the hotel and casino. The wealthy families will
make back the cost of building the casino and fund everything else.”

I
shook my head. “But how are we going to get both income types to want to gamble
together? There are high-end casinos for a reason.”

“That’s
where you come in, my dear. I have the utmost trust that you will figure out
how to sell this in a way that makes everyone happy. I have also brought in
your brother to build the casino, to bring its architecture into the new
millennium. It will be at least a three-year project, but I’m sure you’re both
up for the job.”

I
perked up. If Toby had agreed to this project, maybe there was hope for it
after all. My brother didn’t come on board with Hart Corp for just any ol’
project. It was only for the chance to design something truly worthwhile, or on
rarer occasions, when he desperately needed the money.

“What
about all the projects I’ve been working on the past few weeks? I can’t do them
and
this. I’m swamped as it is.” I slowly rolled my neck to one shoulder
and then the other, suddenly remembering that massage I needed.

“You
can and you will. Right now, I want you to focus on the real work we have here.
Project ideas are one thing, actual projects are another. I’m sorry, but your
other undertakings are just going to have to wait. This is our new priority.”

My
hands clenched into fists, and I had to bite my tongue. He had completely disregarded
all my work as if it were mere child’s play. I stood from the chair with a heavy
sigh. “I hope your intuition on this is right, Mr. Hart. It could make or break
us.”

“My
gut has gotten me through fifty years of life, Lauren. I don’t think it will
fail me now.” He slowly stood from his chair to walk me to the door. “And last
time I checked, it’s Dad.”

I swiftly
left his office and made my way back down to my dreary floor. I really hoped my
father was right. Working with Pierce could be a nightmare. There was too much
family history there. And I refused to hold his hand through this whole project.
I had worked too hard for too long to start babysitting now. I felt my face
flush as I remembered the sensational heat I felt when our palms briefly
touched. Maybe holding his hand wouldn’t be so bad.

Shaking
my head, I forced myself to focus as the elevator doors closed. This was so
unlike Dad. How did he think a casino was going to move Hart Corp from the
shifting sands of its productivity? And why in God’s name did he suddenly feel
the need to make peace with his lifelong nemesis? Something just wasn’t adding
up. One thing was clear, however—Dad assigned me to this casino fiasco for two
reasons: fix any and all of Pierce’s rookie mistakes and make sure he doesn’t
pull anything shady over the company. Selling it to investors, my ass. Dad said
that merely to make me feel needed. There was no way he would agree to a
multi-million-dollar project if he didn’t already know, without a shadow of a
doubt, that it would pay off royally. No, he didn’t really need my expertise.
He needed my babysitting skills.

The
elevator doors opened with a ding and a smiling Monica greeted me.

Normally
if she had something important to tell me, she waited until I got back into my
office. I looked at her uneasily. “What is it?”

She
handed me a piece of folded paper. “The young Mr. Maverick left this for you,”
she whispered. “He’s super cute, isn’t he?”

I
rolled my eyes before I took the note from her. “What are we, in junior high?
Has he never heard of e-mail?” I turned curtly on my heel.

“What
do you think it says?” Monica asked, following closely behind me.

I
was in no mood to appease my nosey assistant. “Don’t know. Don’t really care.”

“Well,
I thought it was sweet. He obviously likes you.”

I
quickly spun around. Monica’s brown, beady eyes looked up at me in surprise.
“Monica, this is business. Pure and simple.” I shoved the paper into my dress
pocket as if to accentuate my complete disregard for Pierce’s boyish move.
“Speaking of business, I think you have some to do?” I pointed to her desk.

“Yes,
Ms. Hart. Sorry, Ms. Hart.”

I
cringed at the timidity I heard in her voice. How long had I been working on
her communication skills and fear of authority only to ruin it with a
thirty-second conversation? I didn’t want my employees to feel about me like
they did about my father. “Monica, I’m sorry. I can feel a headache coming on,
and I didn’t mean to snap.”

She
gave a weak smile. “That’s okay, Ms. Hart. I was prying.” She turned to head
back to her small cubicle. “Let me know if you need anything,” she said over
her shoulder.

Once
inside my office, I quickly unfolded the mysterious note. What could he
possibly want?

Ms. Hart,

Meet me by the park across the way tomorrow morning.

I’m looking forward to our business relationship.

Pierce Maverick

He couldn’t
even say please?
I crumpled the paper up in my hand and
tossed it into the trash bin. Served me right for getting excited like I
actually was in junior high. My annoyance for the man reached a new level. This
project was going to take three years at least, and almost all of that time was
going to be spent with this pompous ass who already had the nerve to start
barking orders via snail mail. Pierce Maverick was going to have to work a hell
of a lot harder if he wanted my respect.