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His jaw twitched. “Your need is not on my priority list. If you’ll excuse us, Annalise and I have more matters to discuss.”
“You’re so cruel, Sven.”
She started draping herself over him, so Sven had to get up from his chair just to get away.
Annalise looked puzzled with the exchange.
“Ah, pardon us. Did he tell you we’re old friends?” Cécile said to Annalise. The tone suggested that they were more than that, but Annalise was impervious to innuendo.
“You two are friends?” Annalise seemed to welcome the insinuation gullibly. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms…”
“Cécile. Cécile Mason. Seymour Dune and my father were colleagues.”
“Sven has just told me about the company.”
“Getting a history lesson from him, I see.” Cécile’s gaze flickered at Sven. “So, Annalise, a little birdie told me you worked as a waitress before this?”
“I did. At a diner near Flushing. Named Mama Sam’s. We made the best chicken fried steak in the county.”
Cécile laughed derisively. “Is that so?”
Sven wanted to bash his head on the bookshelves. He had dreaded this moment. He wanted to delay the meeting of these two women for as long as possible. Cécile was one of the reasons Seymour went to his early grave.
Cécile wanted to take over Dune Industry ever since she joined the company. She opposed the fact that her father’s name wasn’t included in the company name in the first place. Jacque Mason might have contributed money in founding Dune Industry, but it was Seymour Dune who made it big. The company has used eighty percent of his technology to be one of the world’s economic titans.
Her path was wide open when Sven stepped down and started his own firm. Having her father as one of the founders wasn’t enough for her. She wanted a solid ownership. She convinced her father to sell his shares to a group of private investors, and then influenced the board of directors to go public. Each year, Seymour Dune’s influence was crushed further into the corner. When Seymour became gravely ill, she thought she’d won the battle. But she didn’t anticipate that Seymour would appoint his niece as his successor.
Sven feared the worst. Cécile’s vendetta was now directed against Annalise.
“Isn’t he something?” Cécile waved at Sven. “Say, Annalise, as a waitress I bet you make mean cup of Joe. I haven’t had some since morning. Would you be a doll and make me some?”
“Sure. I saw the coffee machine in the kitchenette. How do you take it?” Annalise got up from her chair.
“With cream and two sugars, darling.”
“Annalise, stay where you are.” Sven turned to Cécile sharply. “If you want coffee, go ask your own secretary to make it. Anna is not your gofer.”
“But I don’t mind at all,” said Annalise cheerily.
“I mind.” Sven’s voice was louder than he intended. It made Annalise startle.
Cécile exhaled her breath theatrically. “Sven is always taking things seriously. Can’t you see I was joking? Anyway, Anna dear, I’ve got to run. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’d like to take you out for lunch one of these days. This company is run by chauvinistic males. We girls should stick together.”
“That would be lovely,” said Annalise. “I look forward to it.”
“Charming.” Cécile threw a flirty smile at Sven. “Later.”
Sven followed her to the door and locked it. Out of nowhere, a headache throbbed in his skull. “Anna,” he said hoarsely, “we must establish a rule in here: Do not let Cécile order you around. Never. You are the chairman of the company. Cécile is an acting CEO. You are her boss.”
“Okay.”
“Secondly, avoid her at all costs. Don’t trust anything she says. Consult me first if you have to make a decision.”
“Understood. May I ask why?”
“She’s trouble. She’s wanted your job for the longest time.”
“Why not just let her?”
