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“That pretty much sizes it up.”
“Did you report directly to Frederick?”
“Yes. But that’s the least of it. Besides being CEO, Frederick headed up the food-services division. I’ve been tapping into their resources—suppliers, contacts—anything to get Chomping at the Bit off the ground. With Frederick gone…let’s just say the situation’s bound to become complicated.”
Something in Blake’s tone made Devon press on. “Complicated how? I’m sure you can still access those contacts. Unless someone’s standing in your way,” she added, verbalizing her hunch as it dawned on her. “Someone like James, for instance.”
Blake shot her a sideways look. “Now that’s a loaded question. What exactly did you and James discuss last night?”
“Lots of things. Including you.” Now was the time for wary candor. “He said you’d be running Pierson someday, and that he’s fine with that. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sense some underlying resentment. Or maybe ‘resentment’s’ too strong a word.”
“No, I’d say it’s dead-on accurate.” Clearly, Blake wasn’t bothered by her assessment. “James is a good salesman and an exceptional rider. But he’s not great at sharing the limelight. He has a problem with my place at Pierson. How big a problem? Who knows. Especially now that his insecurities are being fed by my interest in you.”
“Great.” Devon grimaced. “I don’t want to escalate the tension.”
“Don’t worry about it. I can handle James. And he can handle me.”
“He said something similar.”
“What else did you two talk about?”
“The usual stuff. Work. Family. Oh, and the cutthroat world of competitive show jumping.”
“What business isn’t cutthroat? Mine’s just as bad.”
“Well, mine isn’t. It’s rewarding, humane, and honest. Maybe that’s why I like animals better than people.”
A corner of Blake’s mouth lifted. “Makes sense.”
“You, on the other hand, like being on the fast track.”
“If wanting every day to be a challenge is the fast track, then I’m on it.”
Devon took a sip of wine, deciding which road to take. She couldn’t just grill him about his family and/or Philip Rhodes. He’d see through that in an instant.
Maybe a one-eighty would catch him off guard.
“You’re a cut-to-the chase kind of guy,” she stated.
A wry grin. “You noticed.”
“It’s hard not to. You aren’t exactly subtle.”
“If you’re referring to my approach with you, subtle wasn’t what I was going for.”
“What were you going for?”
“Convincing. Is it working?”
“That depends.” She leaned forward, scrutinizing his expression. “Is your interest in me genuine, or is it put on so you can figure out if I know more than I’ve admitted about my mother’s whereabouts?”
A prolonged pause, during which Blake set down his goblet. “And you think I’m direct?”
“Fine. We’re both direct. Now, are you going to answer my question?”
“We’re also both loyal to our families.”
“Is that your way of intimating that you’re in this to spy for your grandfather?”
