Название | Dynasties: The Jarrods |
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Автор произведения | Maureen Child |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon M&B |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780008906023 |
“I will.” She swung her purse up onto her shoulder, held on to the manila envelopes he’d given her and said, “I guess I’ll be seeing you again soon, then.”
“Soon.” He nodded and stood there alone to watch her leave. Sunlight slanted through a bank of clouds and dazzled her hair with light. Her hips swayed and his gaze fixed on her behind so he could enjoy the view.
The next time he saw her, they would be in Aspen. Surrounded by the Jarrod family, he would be forced to keep his distance from her, and Christian didn’t like the thought of that at all. He had a feeling that cleaning up the mess Don had left behind was going to be a lot harder than he’d believed it would be.
Erica was always nervous when she walked into the headquarters of the Prentice Group. Of course, that was the impression her father wanted to make on prospective clients or competitors. Walter wanted people to be intimidated by their surroundings, because then he would always have the psychological advantage.
The building itself was massive, a glass-and-steel tower. Its tinted windows kept the sun at bay and prevented prying eyes in neighboring buildings from peeking in. As if that weren’t enough, the décor had all the warmth and comfort of the great man himself. Cold tile, white walls and stiff, modernistic furniture set the scene in the main lobby and that tone was echoed on every floor.
Walter Prentice was a firm believer in the saying “Perception is everything.” He showed the world what he wanted them to see and that picture became reality. Erica thought about her father—or the man she’d always considered her father—for a second and felt an old ripple of anger slide beneath the surface of the confusion and hurt rampaging through her.
She’d been raised to uphold the family name. To be a shining beacon of respectability and decorum. This building was the heartbeat of the Prentice family dynasty. Where her brothers worked with their father. Where family meetings she was never included in were held. Where the men of the family made plans that the women were expected to follow. This was the place she had never felt good enough to enter.
Her father hadn’t wanted her here. He’d made that clear enough. Wouldn’t even consider her working in the family business, no matter how she had tried to convince him. Erica had never understood why, but she had been on the outside looking in for most of her life. Today, she had discovered the reasons behind her sense of seclusion.
Did her older brothers know the truth? Was that why they’d never really been close? As a kid, she’d wondered why her big brothers weren’t like those of her friends. Sure, they were much older than she was, but still, they’d never paid attention to her. They’d never had the kind of relationship she had once wished for. Had they known the truth all along? Was she the only one who’d been in the dark?
It was time to find out.
She walked across the gleaming, cream-colored tile floor to the security desk. The general public could just walk up to the bank of elevators on the south wall and take them up to any number of floors. But to reach the top floor, where her father’s and brothers’ offices were, required a stop at security where you were given a badge that would get you onto the penthouse elevator. As a child, she’d always felt “special” going through these motions. Today, she only felt even less a part of the Prentice world.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Prentice.”
“Hi, Jerry,” she said. The older man had been working in her father’s lobby for twenty years. When she was a child, Erica remembered, Jerry had kept candy at his station so he always had some for her when she arrived. Now that she thought about it, she realized Jerry had always been happier to see her than Walter had. “I’m going up to see my father.”
“That’s good. Nice for a father and daughter to stay close,” he said as he made a notation in his log, then handed her a badge. “Now that my Karen’s moved out to college I don’t see her nearly enough.”
Erica smiled and hoped it looked more convincing than it felt. Fathers and daughters. She wondered wistfully if Don Jarrod had been a good father. Had her sister, Melissa, had the kind of connection with her father that Erica had always hungered for? Or had her biological father been cut from the same cloth as Walter? After all, they were both wealthy, important men. Maybe it was in their natures to be closed off and more concerned with business than with their children.
Some relationships were so much closer than others. And some, she mused, with a thought for the father she would never know, were never realized at all.
“You have a nice day now,” Jerry said as she took the badge and headed for the private elevator.
Nice day. Two words rattling around inside her mind as she pushed the call button. Confusing day. Terrifying day. Nice? Not so much. In seconds, the doors swished open, she stepped inside and listened to the muted music that drifted down around her.
Now that she was here, Erica’s stomach was churning. What was she going to say? What could she say? “Hello, Father, or should I call you Walter?”
Tears stung at her eyes, but she blinked them back. She hadn’t cried in front of Christian Hanford and she wouldn’t cry now. For one brief moment, the Colorado attorney’s gorgeous face rose up in her mind and Erica thought if only he hadn’t been there to tear down the foundations of her life, she would have been seriously attracted to him. But it was hard to notice a hum in your body when your heart was breaking.
Even now, her heart hurt and her knees were trembling. Music played on as the elevator silently streamed skyward. She should have thought this through more before coming to the office, Erica told herself. Figured out what she was going to say before coming here. But her feelings had pushed her here. That wild rush of anger and confusion and hurt was simmering inside her and waiting wouldn’t have made a difference. She wouldn’t have calmed down. If anything, the tension riding her would have only increased with a wait.
Besides, she thought as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open to reveal the rarefied air of the penthouse suite of offices, it was too late to back out now. She was here and it was past time for answers.
Thick, cream-colored carpet stretched on forever. Her father didn’t want to be bothered by the clipping sound of shoes on tile. And what Walter Prentice wanted, he got. So the carpet was thick and the music soft. It was like stepping into a cloud, she thought. The view out the glass walls was impressive, the city stretched out all around them and the bay just beyond.
Taking a deep breath, Erica walked down the long hall to the desk of her father’s assistant. Jewel Franks was fiftyish, no-nonsense and had her fingers on the pulse of the entire company. She had iron-gray hair neatly coiffed, cool blue eyes and the patience of a saint. She had to, to be able to work with Walter on a daily basis as she had for the last thirty years.
“Erica!” Jewel smiled at her. “What a lovely surprise. Your father isn’t expecting you, is he? I don’t have you on my list for the day….”
Erica felt a reluctant smile curve her mouth. Jewel’s lists were legendary. If it wasn’t written on her legal pad, it didn’t exist.
“No, I’m sorry,” she said. “This is a spur-of-the-moment thing, Jewel. Does he have a few minutes?”
The older woman gave her a wink. “You just managed to catch him between calls, honey. Why don’t you go on in?”
“Thanks.” Erica’s stomach spun and dipped, as if her insides were dizzy and looking for a way to sit down. Another deep breath to fortify already flagging nerves and she was walking to the double-door entrance to her father’s office. A soft knock, then she turned the brass knob and entered.
“What