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Authors: Lynn Emery

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BOOK: Kiss Lonely Goodbye
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“We're his children!” Jolene snapped.

“He executed the will in Louisiana. A parent has the right to leave his assets to whomever he chooses,” Francine said. “I've explained it to you at least five times already. So will his attorney Phil Waserstein.”

“Russ, do something!” Jolene shouted in frustration.

“There's no point talking to them. They're going to gang up on us. Let's get out of here.”

Stanton blocked the door. “Wait, Russ. Be reasonable. We can work something out.”

“Uh, Uncle Stanton, we're talking about a business with net sales of over ten million last year,” Francine said.

“Yeah, and twenty full-time employees, thirty more con
tract and part-time workers and a lot of headaches,” Terrell added.

Nicole shook her head again. “No thanks. I've got my own career.”

“Oh, please!” Analine burst out. “I wouldn't call strolling into your father's office whenever you please a career.”

“You're right of course, Nikki. It's unreasonable to think you could run a company,” Stanton added.

Nicole ground her back teeth. “I didn't say I couldn't do it, just that I didn't want to.”

“There must be a way out of the will.” Terrell turned to Francine. “Nicole doesn't have management skills.”

“Russell will need help, too,” Stanton said to his son. “Ahem, Uncle Hosea mentioned a few problems.”

“I know.” Terrell nodded and glanced at Russell.

“I did
not
poorly manage Summers Security. This is something you people set up!” Russell shouted as he waved his hands in the air.

“I don't care about Uncle Hosea's will. I don't want to run a security business. It's boring.” Nicole crossed her arms.

Francine put a hand on her shoulder. “You have to take over for at least a year.”

“Impossible,” Stanton said promptly.

“No way,” her older brother agreed.

Nicole tapped the toe of her Ann Klein black leather pump. “Listen you two, I'm not exactly an idiot.”

“But you know as well as we do that becoming CEO is out of the question,” her father replied with a firm shake of his head.

“Hosea must have been senile,” her mother said.

“Which means the will is invalid,” Jolene said, leaping on her comment with eyes ablaze.

“There is a doctor's statement included that your father
was mentally sound despite his poor physical health.” Francine pursed her lips when Jolene scowled at her.

“I inherited it legally,” Nicole tossed back. “Not that I want it.” She looked at Francine. “I'll talk to that lawyer and find a way out.”

“Summers Security will be sold and people will lose jobs if you refuse to become the CEO,” she answered.

“Over my dead body she will.” Jolene flung open the door and stomped out of the room. Russell gave them one last hostile frown before he followed her.

“That alone might make me change my mind,” Nicole retorted. She looked at Francine. “You're serious? I have to take over Summers Security?”

“If you don't, it will be broken up into units and sold off piece by piece.” Francine sat down with a weary sigh. “God, this has been a day.”

“Help me find a way out of this mess.” Nicole sank into a chair next to her.

“In a year you can sell it off if you like. Apparently Uncle Hosea wanted you to try it for at least that long.” Francine took a long envelope with the company logo on it from the pocket of her suit jacket. “He left you this. You're to get with his vice president and read it.”

Nicole pulled back as though Francine was trying to hand her a snake. She stared at the envelope with a grimace. “The only meeting I'm going to have is with a consultant who'll tell me how to unload this thing.”

“Don't be hasty,” Stanton said. “We should discuss the ramifications Francine has pointed out.”

“There might be a bright side to this situation.” Analine wore a thoughtful expression.

“She means you'll meet eligible men,” Terrell mumbled aside to Nicole.

Analine raised an eyebrow at them both. “And what's wrong with marriage?”

“A two-for-one bonus, sis. You get a new career and more chances to find a husband.” Terrell winked at her.

“Very funny.” Nicole jabbed him with an elbow. She turned to Francine. “Frannie, help!”

“Excuse me.” A deep voice came from the open doorway.

Nicole looked up at six feet four inches of delicious man. Up close he was more than handsome. Tight dark curls the color of deep coffee covered his head like loops of soft wool. He had the neck and shoulders of a linebacker and the slim waistline of a runner. She backed up to get a better look. Head to toe he was one sweet package.

“I think you're my new boss.” He stuck out a hand with long fingers. “Marcus Reed. I'm vice president and operations manager at Summers Security.”

She took his hand and felt a shock of heat when it closed around hers. A slow smile spread across her face. Finally some good news that was
genuinely
good.

“Nicole Summers Benoit, proud new owner of a business,” she purred.

N
icole stared around the boardroom. The atmosphere reeked of thinly veiled hostility. All six of the top management staff sat around the large oval table. Russell didn't bother to hide how he felt. His lips seemed sealed in a permanent sneer. The others wore impassive expressions, but Nicole wasn't fooled. For thirty minutes she'd gotten terse answers to most of her questions. They gave up information in the most concise, unhelpful servings possible.

As for Marcus Reed, she'd gone from considering when to ask him out after she'd sold the business to plotting devious ways to hurt him,
bad
. His smiling condescension was communicated with such finesse that she almost admired the technique. Almost…Nicole rocked back in the huge bloodred leather captain's chair at the head of the table.

“Thank you all for your reports on the status of Summers Security.” Nicole wore a relaxed smile as she looked around at them. “You've been quite helpful. I've learned
a lot
this morning in a short time.”

“I'm sure you've realized that Summers Security is more
than security guards at church socials.” Russell gazed at her with a tight smile. “Our unit on computer forensics, which has only been in place for one month, is maybe a year away from profitability. And we—”

“The software could use improvement,” Nicole cut in smoothly. “I worked on security applications in my father's business.” The truth was Nicole had sat in on meetings about the application, mostly not paying attention to the bone-dry details.

Marcus swiveled his chair slightly until he faced her. “We have the third-generation upgrade developed by Millennium Technologies. The program you're talking about doesn't capture as much data from cache files.”

“I see.” Nicole didn't really see.

“Also, our security officers are scheduled using a computer program. Of course you've read that in the report. Do you suggest we use a split-shift model or continue with rotations currently being used?” Marcus tapped on the keyboard of the laptop computer in front of him. Colorful charts and bar graphs appeared on the white screen facing them at the opposite end of the room.

Eight pairs of eyes looked at her without glancing at the screen. They all knew what he was talking about. Nicole didn't have a clue, but she did know one thing. She was the boss and she'd had enough.

“Obviously I'm going to have to learn the business from the ground up. Not to worry. I'm a quick study. To that end I'll expect this list of additional reports on my desk by the end of business tomorrow.” Her smile warmed up again at the shocked expressions on their faces. She handed a stack of papers with her list to Russell.

“Pass them around, please,” Nicole said in her best you're-here-to-do-my-bidding tone. “You'll find additional instruc
tions. Fortunately, my father gave me a crash course in what to ask, and what answers to expect.” Nicole stood and smoothed down the red jacket that matched her skirt. “Thank you. I believe that's all for now.”

“I can't have my staff tied up,” Russell blurted out. “We're providing security to the minor league football play-offs for the next two weeks.”

“As Marcus so helpfully pointed out, security is planned weeks ahead with your wonderful computer program.” Nicole glanced around at the table with one eyebrow raised. “You have prepared for such an intricate event I hope?”

“Of course,” Marcus said. “Jacinta and Andre have it under control.”

He nodded to the dark-haired Latino woman to his left and the young black man seated across from him. Both looked to be fresh from college. From the staff files Nicole had skimmed, she knew both were twenty-somethings with MBA degrees from Ivy League schools.

“Very reassuring. Tomorrow by end of business,” she said firmly.

Nicole let her expression reinforce the fact that the meeting was indeed over. The staff cast furtive glances toward Marcus for guidance. He looked straight ahead as though he didn't notice. Seconds later they filed out one by one. Russell alone did not get up from his seat. Instead he sat at the other end of the table with a sour expression. Marcus was near the door when Nicole spoke up.

“One moment please,” Nicole said.

Marcus's dark eyes registered surprise for only a second. He nodded and came back. “Of course.”

Russel watched their exchange with a sneer. “You have no idea how to run any business, much less Summers Security.”

Nicole's father and Uncle Lionel came through the side door from Uncle Hosea's large executive suite. Stanton frowned at Russell. “Young man, you know better than to criticize a member of this family in front of employees!” his basso voice rumbled ominously.

“My father should have appointed
me
CEO when he learned how sick he was.” Russell could not keep the whine from his voice.

Uncle Lionel grunted. “Fat chance.”

“Lionel, please.” Stanton shook his head.

“Oh, give me a break, Stan.” Uncle Lionel waved a hand and sat down. “Our business is out in the streets since that video played at the funeral.”

“He's got a point, Daddy.” Nicole shrugged. “Besides, Uncle Hosea apparently trusted Marcus.”

“We worked closely together.” Marcus managed to sound respectful and modest without seeming obsequious.

Nicole felt a shiver up her spine. Marcus Reed had style. His smile could melt the polar ice cap. She gazed at the way his shoulders filled out the light brown suit jacket he wore. Too bad his charm covered a snake. Her ex-husband had cured her of an appetite for candy-coated serpents. Marcus was another version of Jack Benoit. That thought alone brought her sharply back to reality.

Russell turned his animosity toward Marcus. “Marcus has been an
employee
for seven years.”

“Marcus helped your father build this company into a national presence,” Uncle Lionel said mildly. He gazed at Russell through narrowed eyes. “You, on the other hand, made a few missteps.”

“That's enough for now,” Stanton cut in. “Marcus, I'll get right to the point. I hope you're not entertaining other offers.”

“No, sir. I can honestly say I'm not seriously considering a move at this time. Though I've been approached by the district manager at Pinkerton.”

Stanton nodded with a sober expression. He glanced at Nicole as a signal. “Have you two talked?”

She cleared her throat. “Only briefly. We had a few urgent decisions to make this morning. Then it was time for the first management team meeting.”

Nicole didn't glance at Marcus as she spoke. She imagined him wearing a placid smile in full knowledge that the “we” she spoke of mainly meant him. Still, she intended to remedy that situation fast. No pretty boy know-it-all was going to keep the upper hand on her.

“Let's sit down then.” Stanton waved a hand at the conference table, and they took seats. He looked at Nicole again to take the lead.

“We know you could move on to a choice job in the industry with no problem,” she began. “However, we'd like you to sign an agreement not to leave for at least six months. Your expertise and knowledge of this company in particular is invaluable in a transition. Summers Security and the employees need you.”

The words raked her throat raw, but Nicole's delivery was flawless. Marcus had shown himself to be an inflexible, misogynistic, condescending smart-ass. She'd play the game for now, though.

“Frankly, my daughter needs all the help she can get,” Stanton said. “I'll be here two days a week to support her as well. But of course I've got my own company to run.”

Uncle Lionel leaned forward. “Naturally we'll compensate you.”

“Thank you, that's very generous.” Marcus turned to
Nicole. “The late Mr. Summers and I worked hand in hand. More important than money is knowing the new boss has confidence in me.”

“As I said, we realize that one asset of this company is its staff. You've done so much to build up the customer base and infrastructure.” Nicole smiled at him with effort.

“So you want me to stay?” Marcus pushed.

Nicole wanted to swipe the smarmy set to his full lips right off his face. He wanted her to crawl, to admit she couldn't handle Summers Security without him.
Be damned if I will, you cocky chump!

“I want what's best for the firm right now. With your skills and knowledge, of course I want you. To stay on, I mean,” Nicole added and blushed. She glanced away from the glint of amusement in his arresting eyes. His mouth twitched a fraction, but he continued to wear a professional demeanor.

“I care about the people who work here and the customers we serve. I'll stay for at least six months,” Marcus said.

“Excellent!” Stanton beamed and rubbed his hands together.

Uncle Lionel clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Knew we could count on you, son.”

“Just a minute.” Russell stood. “You talk about the future of this company as if I'm not in the room. May I remind you that I'm vice president of development. My father founded this company. I intend to run it once this absurd will is invalidated. I—”

“Shut up, Russ,” Uncle Lionel rumbled. “You're vice president of exactly nothing. Hosea had sense enough not to put you in charge of anything you could damage.”

“The important thing is to pull together as a family, not just think of ourselves individually,” Stanton replied.

“Nice speech, Uncle Stanton. If we're going to pull to
gether, then why won't Nicole resign and give the business to me as its rightful owner?” Russell wore a scornful smile, and he leaned on the table with both fists. “I'll tell you why. She's holding this company ransom hoping I'll pay her extortion money. Well, you can forget it!”

“Russ, don't be an ass,” Uncle Lionel barked. “Sit down and listen to reason.”

“Under Texas law there can only be one person responsible for the license of a security agency. They call that person the manager,” Russell said. He stuck out his chest. “Nicole doesn't qualify because she doesn't have three years' experience in the security business. Which means I'll be the manager.”

“Everybody can kiss their jobs goodbye.” Uncle Lionel shook his head slowly.

“Lionel, please! You're not helping,” Stanton admonished.

“Excuse me,” Marcus said. “Mr. Summers designated me as manager six months before he got sick. So, there's no problem with the license.”

Nicole didn't like the sound of that. She made a mental note to study the state licensing regulations. “Good. Now Russell doesn't have to lose sleep over our license.”

“I'm just as qualified to be manager,” Russell protested.

“Don't worry, Russ. We'll let you blow the guards' new whistles if you're good,” Uncle Lionel shot back.

“Have fun, Uncle Lionel. Just don't think you can push me until I quit. Nicole won't take my company that easily.” Russell cast a final defiant glance at them all, then walked out.

Stanton sighed. “You see what we're up against?” he said to Marcus.

“Yes, sir.” Marcus folded his hands on top of the table.

If he was amused or disturbed, he didn't let it show in his expression. Nicole studied him a few moments. She won
dered what wheels were turning in his attractive head. Marcus Reed wasn't just a pretty face. He knew his own value. If he had any doubts about his position at Summers Security, they'd just put those to rest. What would he do next? She gazed at his neat fingernails, the long, tapered fingers and smooth skin on the back of his hands. His arms filled out the sleeves of his suit nicely. Her gaze went up his chest to his face again. Nice package, he seemed to be an all starch and straightlaced overachiever on the way up. Yet Nicole suspected once out of that suit he could turn into a sleek, sensual creature. The image of his naked flesh set off a flash fire in her body.

“I said, do you agree?” Uncle Lionel said loudly.

“Nicole, focus. I know this is overwhelming for your first day in the office,” her father added.

She blinked and realized the three men were staring at her hard. “Sorry. Long day and it's just barely lunchtime.” Nicole gave them a forced, weak smile.

She shook off the effects of a budding, and quite forbidden, fantasy involving her employee. He'd probably slap her with a sexual harassment lawsuit, especially if he could have glimpsed the naughty pictures in her head. She gave herself a solid mental shake, then concentrated on the discussion.

“As Russell pointed out, we've started a digital forensic unit. Also, Mr. Summers and I had planned to submit bids on federal contracts related to homeland security measures,” Marcus said.

“But can you handle that kind of work?” Uncle Lionel frowned at him.

“Some of it will involve training security personnel at airports. Myself and two staff have spent the last three months getting trained in that specialized area.”

Marcus pressed a button on the laptop computer. Moments
later Uncle Hosea's secretary, who was now Nicole's secretary, knocked and came in with four printed copies.

“Here you are, Marcus.” Catherine Lawson, know as Cat around the office, gave him a warm smile. She glanced at Nicole with frank curiosity.

“Thanks. Here you'll see what we had in mind.”

Nicole smiled at her. “Thank you, Cat. I'll meet with you later.”

“Sure. Can I get you anything, Ms. Summers?”

“I'm good,” Nicole said. The woman nodded and left.

“Nicole.” Her father raised one thick eyebrow at her. “Looks sound to me. What do you think, Lionel?”

“Don't need to tell me this was
your
idea, Marcus. Excellent the way you look ahead.” Uncle Lionel nodded in approval.

“Thank you, sir.” Marcus straightened his tie and sat back in his chair.

BOOK: Kiss Lonely Goodbye
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