Family Merger. Leigh Greenwood

      Kathryn sighed, and he felt even more out of it. “Now what?” he asked, becoming extremely frustrated.

      “She would have taken the puppy.”

      “She said she didn’t want it. She said she wouldn’t even give it a name.”

      “She would have taken it and been happy. Didn’t any one of those women you employ tell you that?”

      “I was in Chicago. My secretary talked to Margaret.”

      “Did it ever occur to you that since you’ve hired a staff to take care of your daughter, it might be a good idea to ask their opinion, maybe even let them handle the situation?”

      “Margaret has authority to buy anything Cynthia needs.”

      “Cynthia’s wanting a cat was a cry for help. She wanted more attention than she was getting.”

      “It was a cat, for God’s sake, not a security blanket.”

      “It might as well have been.”

      “Boys ask for dogs all the time. They’d never compare it to having a baby,” he insisted.

      “You don’t understand women.”

      “I know that.”

      “And you don’t understand your daughter.”

      They were standing there, facing each other like two antagonists squaring off over some kind of prize.

      “I know that, too.”

      “I expect you tried,” Kathryn said.

      “You’re too generous.”

      “You were probably too involved in your work to take the time to learn to really listen.”

      “I listen to her all the time.”

      “Maybe, but you’re not hearing her. You’re insensitive to women’s issues. You need to spend more time—”

      “I don’t have more time,” Ron broke in. “Do you have any idea how tough it is in the international market? Half the men out there would cut my throat if they could gain anything by it. And if I survive them, there’s a new, young wizard popping out of the woodwork every day brimming over with ideas of how to do what I do cheaper and faster.”

      “I’m familiar with the business world. My father has spent his whole life in it, and he’s just like you.”

      “So you’re telling me it’s hopeless?”

      “Not if you really want to try. If you don’t—”

      “Would I come halfway around the world if I didn’t?”

      She seemed to accept that. She turned away and walked toward a bookcase built into the wall. “I can recommend several excellent books.”

      “I don’t have time to read one book, not to mention several.”

      She turned back to face him, her expression impatient. “Then how do you expect to learn to be sensitive to your daughter’s feelings? You need training.”

      “Then you train me.”

      “I doubt I’d be able to do that.”

      “How hard could it be? I’m bright, I’m willing and I’m ready to start now.”

      Chapter Two

      “Are you sure everything went okay?”

      Ron had called Ted the minute he got back to the house. It was 7:21 a.m. in Geneva. Time to be preparing for the second day’s meeting. He was the one who was up past his bedtime. More than six hours past.

      “Lord Hradschin is in favor of the merger,” Ted said. “There’s nothing that old pirate likes as much as money.”

      There really wasn’t much that was difficult that had to be done during the first few days. It was mostly laying out the plans for the merger, explaining how they meant to restructure the company, answering questions, giving the costs and income projections. Ted was good at making difficult things sound simple and Ben could make you feel good about a root canal, but could they read the people, know who was going to be trouble, figure out the arguments necessary to bring them around, figure out how the politics played into the decision? That had always been his job.

      “Don’t move to a second point until you’re certain everyone understands the first one,” Ron said. “It’ll only get worse as you go along if they don’t.”

      He’d already rejected the idea of flying back to Geneva in the morning. Something had happened to him when Cynthia suddenly broke into tears and ran from the room. This wasn’t the same as having a tantrum, sulking or being obstinate. She was deeply hurt, and he had no idea how to fix it.

      Kathryn said she could teach him to understand his daughter if he really wanted to. He couldn’t imagine why she would have any doubt. He had left his meeting just as it was getting started. What more proof could she want?

      “Call me if you hit a snag. I’ll have my cell phone with me… No, I don’t know when I’ll be back. In the next couple of days, but I can’t say exactly when.”

      He was certain Kathryn would say he’d need more than one session, but he didn’t have time for more. If she was as good as she thought, she could teach him everything he had to know in a couple of hours. After that it shouldn’t take him more than a day to sort things out with Cynthia and get her back home.

      “I’ve got to go. If I don’t get some sleep, I’ll be a zombie. You’ve been wanting a chance to do this on your own, so make the most of it.”

      He hung up the phone and fell back on the bed without bothering to take off his clothes. He would undress in a minute, just as soon as the muscles at the back of his neck and shoulders unknotted enough for him to move his arms. Then it struck him, the million-dollar question.

      Had he screwed up so badly with Cynthia she wouldn’t give him another chance?

      He hoped not. Their relationship wasn’t perfect, but they’d been going along with only an occasional bump until this pregnancy thing happened. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on the boy who’d done this to his little girl. It was always the boy who was so anxious to have sex he didn’t stop to think of the consequences.

      “Is Daddy really going to let you try to teach him to understand women?” Cynthia asked Kathryn over a bowl of oatmeal sprinkled with brown sugar and pecans.

      “That’s what he says,” Kathryn replied. “But he may be too angry at me to listen to anything I say.”

      They were sitting in the breakfast alcove in Kathryn’s bright, cheerful kitchen. Sunlight streamed in through the windows despite the canopy of oaks that shaded the backyard.

      “How can any man be angry at you?” Lisette asked. “You’re beautiful.” She had requested French toast, which she had promptly drowned in a sea of maple syrup. She had yet to swallow the vitamin and calcium pills that Mrs. Collias had placed by her plate.

      “My dad never notices women, even when they’re as beautiful as Miss Roper,” Cynthia said. “I used to think it was because he could never love another woman after my mother died.”

      Kathryn couldn’t imagine a man as handsome, energetic and vital as Ron Egan ignoring women. She was certain women didn’t ignore him. She hadn’t been able to.

      “That’s so romantic,” Lisette cooed.

      “Now I think it’s because he’ll never like any woman as much as he likes his work.”

      “But he’s rich,” Lisette reminded her. “All rich men like beautiful women, and he isn’t even ancient with a potbelly and bald head. Please tell me he’s not fifty.”