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Mr. Henry waved a hand. “Rest assured, dear girl. This isnotabout the bottom line, but the greater good. It’s about what you showed an old bum who had a need. It’s about the milk of human kindness.”
“But the bottom lineisimportant,” his grandson persisted.
Mary Paige directed her attention to the ass. “I’m not interested in tricking people so you can make a buck. It’s deceitful to pretend the holiday is about showing love to your fellow man when you have a different motivation behind it. I can’t imagine something so…”
His eyes clouded.
“Well, let’s just say, I’ll not be part of it.” She turned her attention to Mr. Henry as she rose. Something about Brennan made her uncomfortable. Not just his concern for the almighty buck, but his distaste for his grandfather’s plan. She could feel cynicism sheet off him in waves.
And maybe part of her discomfort was she found him attractive despite his demeanor. And this dude was about as far away from her usual type as she could get. Scary. “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Henry, but I’m not interested in being the Spirit of Christmas for Henry Department Stores.”
Brennan stood politely, ever the Southern gentleman, a mixture of triumph and relief on his face. “So, you’ll be returning the check, then?”
3
BRENNANWATCHEDTHEblonde with interest. What would she say at the thought of handing that two-million-dollar check back to his grandfather? She bought a homeless man a cup of coffee. Anyone could have done that…even an ax murderer. Here was the litmus test of her character.
Mary Paige shot him a look that curled something in his gut, making him feel as if he’d disappointed her. Which was strange because he didn’t care about this woman. So why did she make him feel like scum? His job was to take care of his grandfather and this company, and that included safeguarding the bottom line. Lord, the woman thought it was wrong to pursue profit.
“Of course, I’ll give the money back,” she said, picking up her purse. “I certainly wouldn’t keep it if I can’t uphold my end of the deal.”
“No, please wait, Miss Gentry,” his grandfather said, standing and waving a firm hand in her direction. “I think you’ve gotten off on the wrong foot with my grandson. Brennan doesn’t mean to come across so harshly. He’s looking out—”
“For this company.” Brennan gave his grandfather a nod that said he could fight his own battles. “I’m sorry if that offends you, but we’re a business and thus responsible to our shareholders and employees to, you know, make aprofit—nasty word, though it is.”
She hesitated and he wondered if this was what she’d been after in the first place. Was she faking do-gooder or was she sincere? He couldn’t tell. He’d never been great at reading women. His grandfather alone had raised him and there hadn’t been a steady female influence in his life, so he didn’t always trust the fairer sex. The women he was accustomed to were soothed by pretty words and shiny baubles…and would never give back two million dollars without a fight.
“Please, sit. Let’s try this again.” It was his one acquiescence to his grandfather. He didn’t like the idea of this whole Spirit of Christmas thing, but after hearing Ellen’s take, the idea had rolled around in his head, carving a comfortable nook in his thoughts of the image the company should present and, yes, the profit generated from the way they positioned themselves.
Ellen smiled. “You’re obviously a good soul, Mary Paige, so I know corporate considerations can be, well, conflicting in their intent.”
Mary Paige nodded. “I’m an accountant, Ellen. I understand the concept.”
An accountant? Brennan couldn’t see this woman chained behind a desk tapping on an enormous calculator. She was too…something. His mind flashed back to her long legs and that interesting piece of Lycra under her skirt.
“Oh, really?” Ellen said, eyeing Mary Paige. “Very interesting.”
Mary Paige shifted her gaze from Ellen to the dog. “Listen, I see what you’re trying to do, Mr. Henry, and it’s admirable. It’s actually a really sweet idea, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable in the limelight.”
His grandfather smiled. “Don’t worry, dear. Brennan will be right beside you every step of the way. We’re not throwing you out front to tap-dance. We want the face of MBH beside you, showing all of the country we here in New Orleans believe in good works and good cheer.”
The hell Brennan would be right beside her. He wasn’t sure what the old man had up his sleeve, but if he thought Brennan would gallop all over this city with a silly grin on his face escorting the clumsy accountant as she put on a dog and pony show spreading Christmas cheer, he was certifiable.
In fact, maybe Brennan needed to pursue that possibility. Testing the old man to certify he was missing a few spokes on his wheel.
“Him?” Mary Paige pointed to Brennan.
“Once upon a time Brennan loved Christmas and his goal in life wasn’t to frighten small children.”
Ellen snorted.
“I’m not interested in promo stunts,” Brennan said. “You like that sort of thing, Grandfather, so you do it.”
“If you want to be the next CEO,” his grandfather said, “the public needs to see you as the face of the company. Not me. Besides, I have a full calendar.”
“And I don’t? I’m trying to run this company, and I don’t think the board of directors would appreciate the future CEO gallivanting around trimming trees and singing carols. I need to maintain a stable public image. This is ridiculous.”
And it was. He was not babysitting his grandfather’s project. If the old man wanted a Spirit of Christmas campaign, fine, but it had nothing to do with Brennan. Besides, it was illogical to spring it on him five weeks before Christmas. It felt a day late, a dollar short and very, very nutty.
