It Happened in Manhattan. Emily McKayЧитать онлайн книгу.
image she’d worked her whole life to build and maintain seemed to vanish like a whiff of smoke, leaving her with the disconcerting feeling that he could see straight through to her very soul.
“You are,” she said simply.
“I don’t understand.” Jonathon frowned, looking down at his laptop as if he expected it to sprout flowers. “Why did you ask to meet with us alone if you weren’t worried about your end of the deal?”
“I thought you’d be more honest in private.” Which was also true and was as good an excuse as any. “I don’t care how much money I walk away with. I don’t care what kind of golden parachutes you offer to the board members. I care about whether or not the stores themselves survive. When this is all over with, is there going to be a Biedermann’s in nearly every mall in America? Are there going to be any of them left?”
The question hung in the air between them. Since they seemed to be waiting for her to say something else, she continued.
“If FMJ gobbles us up, that may solve the immediate problem of our declining stock prices, but that’s only part of the problem.” She turned to Jonathon. “Our stock price wouldn’t be going down if we had strong retail performance. I want to know how you plan to improve that.”
She expected Jonathon to answer. After all, he was FMJ’s financial genius. However, it was Ford who spoke.
“You’re right. For too long, you’ve been relying on people shopping at your stores because they’re already at the mall. However—”
Ford broke off as his cell phone buzzed to life. Reaching into his pocket, he grimaced as he pulled out the phone. “Sorry.”
He turned off the volume on the phone, but left it sitting on the conference table by his elbow. “It’s not enough …”
Even though he continued talking, her attention wandered for a second. She’d seen the name displayed on the phone when it rang. Patrice. What were the names of his sisters? Chelsea, Beatrice and … some-thing else. Certainly not Patrice, though.
Not that it mattered in the least. He probably had the numbers of dozens of women stored in his phone. Hundreds maybe. It wasn’t her business.
She forced her attention back to his words.
“We don’t want shoppers to stop in at Biedermann’s because they’re at the mall. We want to attract them to the mall because there’s a Biedermann’s there. We need Biedermann’s to provide them with services and products that they can’t get anywhere else.”
“We have strong brand recognition,” she protested. “We offer more styles of engagement rings than any other store.”
“But engagement rings are a one-time purchase. You need something that will bring customers back again and again.”
The phone by his elbow began to vibrate silently. Again she glanced down. This time the name display read Suz.
“You can answer it if you need to,” she said.
He frowned as the phone stopped vibrating and the call rolled over to voice mail. “I don’t.”
“Are you sure? Second call in just a few minutes.”
Jonathon was scowling, clearly annoyed. He quirked an eyebrow in silent condemnation when the phone started vibrating again a few seconds later. Rosa this time.
Was that the third sister’s name? She couldn’t remember.
“Just answer it,” Jonathon snapped.
Frowning, Ford stood as he grabbed the phone. “Hey, miha. What’s up?” With a slight nod, he excused himself from the room.
For a long time, Kitty and Jonathon sat in silence, the tension taut between them. She suspected he didn’t like her any more than she liked him. With his frosty demeanor and calculating gaze, every time she glanced at him she half expected to see little dollar signs where his pupils were.
However, after a few minutes of drumming her nails against the armchair, her patience wore out. Or perhaps her curiosity got the better of her.
“Does he always get so many personal calls at work?”
Jonathon scowled, but she couldn’t tell if he was annoyed by the interruption or by her questions. “It’s after hours. But his family can be quite demanding.”
“Those were all family members?” Maybe she’d misremembered the names. Or perhaps misread them?
Jonathon’s scowl deepened. Ah, so he hadn’t meant to reveal that.
“I know he has three sisters, but—”
“If you’re curious about his family, you should really talk to Ford about it.”
And let him know she was scoping out his potential as a father? Not likely.
She met Jonathon’s gaze and smiled slowly. “The problem, Mr. Bagdon, is that whenever Ford and I are alone, we end up doing one of two things. Neither of them is conducive to talking about his family.”
Mr. Cold-As-Ice Jonathon didn’t stammer or blush. Instead, he held her gaze, his lips twisting in an expression that she might have imagined was amusement in a man less dour.
“Interesting,” he murmured.
“What?”
“You expected me to be either embarrassed or distracted by your honesty.”
“But you’re neither?” she asked. What was it with these guys from FMJ that none of them reacted the way normal men did?
“Certainly not enough to be tricked into telling you the information you’re fishing for.”
Well, if her motives were going to be so transparent, then she might as well be honest. “Very well, then. Let’s be frank. I am curious about Ford, but I don’t want to ask him about his family.”
“Because …” Jonathon prodded.
She smiled. “If there’s one thing you and I can both agree upon, it’s that the relationship between Ford and I is complicated enough as it is. Yes, I could talk to him about it, but I wasn’t merely being provocative with my earlier comment. Every time Ford and I are alone we’re either fighting or having sex. I don’t see any reason to add emotional confidences into an already volatile mix merely to satisfy my curiosity.”
Jonathon studied her for a moment, his expression as nonplussed as it always was. Finally he nodded. “Very well. What do you want to know?”
What didn’t she want to know might have been a better question. Ford seemed such a dichotomy. She thought of the easygoing charmer she’d met back in that bar in Texas. He’d seemed such a simple man. Not stupid by any means, but uncomplicated. It was that quality that had drawn her to him in the first place. With his laid-back charisma and magnetic smile, he’d coaxed his way past her defenses as easily as he’d mollified Dale.
That alone should have made her suspicious. A man that could assess and defuse a tense situation like that was no mere cowboy. Far more telling was the way he’d charmed her. She never let down her defenses. Never let anyone close. She should have known that any man who could tempt her into a quickie in the parking lot was a man to be reckoned with.
What was that saying? Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.
Well, she was suitably shamed.
Regardless of all that, Ford—this chameleon of a man, whom she barely knew and couldn’t possibly hope to understand—was the father of her child. She had no way of anticipating how he would react if he were to learn the truth.
She clearly took too long to formulate her question, because Jonathon leaned forward. “If you’ve got a question, you should ask now. He might not be on the phone with his family much longer.”
Suddenly, she was struck