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“Hi yourself.” He caught her hand, pulled her closer, and kissed her. “Judging from whatever smells so great in that kitchen, I’m afraid I’m about to lose another contest.”
“I’m a gracious winner.”
“And a lousy loser,” Lane supplied, picking up the salad tongs and doling out leafy servings. “Don’t ever get into a card game with her, Blake. It’s a lose-lose situation.”
“That’s only because you’re such an arrogant winner,” Meredith retorted, jumping in with both feet. “No one can stand losing to you. You’re so…so…so male.”
Lane arched a brow. “Is that supposed to be an insult?”
“Yes,” Merry, Devon, and Sally said simultaneously.
They all laughed. Then, amid the guys’s sarcastic comebacks, everyone filed around the table to settle down and eat.
Devon took the opportunity to pull Blake aside.
He looked haggard. Then again, he’d had a hellish couple of weeks. Sixteen-hour workdays, seven days a week, with no hope of things letting up for months to come. Not to mention a barrage of mental, emotional, and financial pressure.
Right after Edward’s arrest, Blake had been named interim CEO of Pierson & Company. Under the most grueling of circumstances, he’d assumed responsibility for all the company’s day-to-day operations. His days were spent locked in nonstop closed-door meetings with outside counsel and public relations firms who’d been hired to manage the fallout from the impending allegations of improper business dealings. In the midst of this turmoil, he’d called an internal meeting of all Pierson employees, in which he’d tried to put the staff at ease about their job security, asking for their support during this stressful time. And then, finally, he’d broken away from the in-house pandemonium to jump on the corporate jet and make a whirlwind trip to all Pierson’s customers, assuring them that Pierson & Company would survive this crisis while continuing to earn their current and future business.
Then there was the personal side of things.
Edward and Anne were ensconced at the Pierson farm, under house arrest and awaiting trial. They’d hired David Lange, one of New York’s most prominent criminal attorneys, to represent them. Given their age and Edward’s physical condition, Lange was serving their best interests by making sure the proceedings dragged on as long as possible. As for James, he was out on bail and cooperating fully with the authorities. Therefore, in lieu of jail time, Lange was angling for a hefty fine and community service. In the meantime, James was following his advice and keeping the lowest possible profile. The show circuit was out; the only riding he was doing these days was for personal enjoyment.
The rest of the family was all on overdrive, but the brunt of the hard work and damage control fell to Blake.
Devon searched his face, hurting for the lines of stress and fatigue she saw there. “You look beat,” she murmured, her voice drowned out by the sound of the chairs scraping the floor.
“I’m hanging in there.”
“What about your grandparents? How are they holding up?”
Blake’s shoulders lifted in a resigned shrug. “Healthwise, they’re fine. My grandfather’s not showing any more signs of a second heart attack. And my grandmother’s a steamroller—but only in private. When she talks to the cops, she’s a broken, elderly woman. She’s paving the way for Lange to argue diminished capacity or undue duress or whatever the hell he plans to argue so her confinement will be at some gracious convalescence facility rather than prison.”
Devon sighed. “Have they softened up toward you?”
“Nope. They’re civil. They know I’m the best person to run the company. But they’ll never forgive me. So don’t hold your breath.” He rubbed a strand of Devon’s hair between his fingers. “Don’t look so upset. I expected this. I knew what I was doing. It was the right thing. The only thing. I can live with myself. It amazes me that they can.”
“What about the rest of your family? Are they supporting you?”
“Across the board.” A trace of dry humor. “Except for James. Big surprise. Then again, he’s a lot more subdued than usual. So he might not sing my praises, but he doesn’t get in my way, either.”
“I guess that’s a plus.” Devon paused. “Any word from Louise?”
Blake’s jaw tightened. “Not since I told her to pack her things and get out. After hearing what your father learned—frankly, I couldn’t stand the sight of her.”
Devon couldn’t argue that one. “How’s the interviewing for her replacement going?”
“Pretty well. I’ve seen a couple of strong candidates. The change will be good for Pierson & Company. A clean sweep of the broom is what we needed after all the corruption. And frankly, I feel good about
heading up that campaign. Restoring integrity to the Pierson name—it’s a goal I can be proud of. And I have you to thank for it.”
“Me?”
“Actually, all the Montgomerys. You gave me a crash course in what family’s all about.”
“A crash course—that’s a good choice of words.” Devon grimaced at the clatter going on behind her.
“Hey!” Lane called out, interrupting them. “Private time is later. Now’s dinner.”
