Those were the days Desiree would call from boarding school, asking him to add more funds to her charge cards. Back then, she had to admit, she’d thought of her grandfather more as her banker than her guardian. She recalled one phone call in particular. Ms. Markam had obviously assumed she had placed Desiree on hold, but she hadn’t. Desiree had overheard her tell whoever she’d been talking to that Mr. Sharpe’s spoiled, bratty granddaughter only called when she wanted something. Then she’d followed up by saying some other not-so-nice things about her.
Then, while in college, Desiree had often called her grandfather, especially after her Aunt Margot had passed away. It was during those times she had felt most alone and needed to hear his voice. However, Eloise Markham was quick to say he was busy and would let him know she called, but he never called back.
“Yes, we finally meet.” Still reeling from her angry exchange with Cobra, which had left her frustrated, and now remembering the horrible things Eloise had said that day, propelled Desiree to say, “You can tell Mr. Sharpe that his spoiled, bratty granddaughter has arrived for their two o’clock meeting.”
An embarrassed look appeared on the woman’s face.
Desiree suddenly felt bad. This was no way to make a first impression. So, to make light of what she’d said and to let Eloise know she’d gotten over that time as well as the description, Desiree chuckled and said, “I admit I was quite a handful then. But I can assure you those days are over.”
“I’m sure they are,” Eloise said softly, coming to her feet. “I will announce you to Mr. Sharpe.”
“Thank you, Eloise.” Desiree watched the woman quickly walk away.
Announce her? Richard Sharpe should have been expecting her, so why didn’t Eloise just say, “Go right on in?”
Come to think about it, Desiree couldn’t remember a single time when she had called her grandfather, and Eloise had put her through to him directly. The woman had taken a message every time, as if she was his guard dog or something. Was she still doing that?
“Mr. Sharpe will see you now.”
Desiree smiled at Eloise. “Thank you. And by the way, I remember calling my grandfather one time when I was in college. I’d decided to sit out a semester and had asked him to call me. I found out this weekend that he never got that message.”
Desiree could see the color nearly drain from the woman’s features. “I don’t remember that, Allison.”
“Then it’s a good thing that I do, Eloise.”
She then walked off.
***
Upon entering her grandfather’s office, Desiree glanced around. It was four times the size of hers, perfectly furnished and accessorized to represent the company’s CEO. And the view outside his wall-to-wall window of the Manhattan skyline was even more breathtaking than the view in her office. She would consider spending the nights here just to wake up to that stunning sight. And standing in front of that window was Richard Sharpe.
Her grandfather had always seemed larger than life to her. Now, he was older—all that black hair was now sprinkled with gray—and she inwardly cringed at the thought that she might have been responsible for more than a few strands. But still, she would have to say, he had aged with grace and dignity. He still had a stately yet commanding presence about him. He stood tall, confident, well-groomed, and distinguished-looking. She could even go so far as to say her grandfather was a handsome man. His eyes, timelessly sharp and keen, signified a high intelligence.
He didn’t have many wrinkles on his face for a man his age, and he appeared to be in good physical shape. But then, hadn’t Cobra said he even played tennis? She hadn’t considered that he’d be that active before, but could definitely see it now.
Her aunt had kept copies of the international magazines that had showcased his work, featuring him on the covers when he’d been younger. He had been described as a visionary, an industrial tycoon, someone cool under fire. No doubt he had wanted to pass on those same characteristics to his son, who he had expected to take over the company one day. Instead, his son lived a little too large and nearly bankrupted their Paris office. And now, she could tell that Richard believed she’d do the same thing. But she was determined to prove him wrong.
“Welcome to the Sharpe Corporation, Allison.”
“Thanks for hiring me.”
“Did you think that I wouldn’t?” he asked, moving away from the window to stand by his desk.
“I guess not, after demanding I come home and take on my responsibility as a Sharpe.”
If her words annoyed him, he didn’t show it. “Please have a seat, Allison. And you look very nice today.”
Had he thought she would wear jeans and a t-shirt? Or worse, something one would usually wear to a nightclub?
Early on, he had set the tone he preferred for the Sharpe Corporation and, over the years, hadn’t changed it. It was strictly professional, with no aberrations. So, she had laid out her clothes last night—a black pencil skirt, white blouse, and a black, white, and gray plaid blazer with closed-toe pumps with what would be considered an appropriate heel. She wasn’t going to give him a chance to disapprove of her on her first day.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the chair in front of his desk.
“So, what do you think of the place so far?” he asked, sitting down as well.
“I took a tour earlier. It’s a nice building. However, it’s too early to comment on your business model or the company’s environment until I become more familiar with them.”
She could see the surprise on his face. No doubt he was wondering how she was familiar with such things…which told her that he had no idea about what she could do. It was too bad he hadn’t bothered to keep up with her activities the last three years.
