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“I’m sure I’ll see you around,” said Cameron, “But let’s talk later? I’ll call you.”
“Great.” Grant nodded then scurried after Mary Ellen who wasn’t hanging around for him. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot …” he began.
She coolly met his gaze. “Are you? Are you really?”
“Of course, I am. You don’t really think I somehow set this up, do you? Why would I do that? Why would anyone do that?”
She made a face. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it. I can’t imagine how poor Chelsea felt when you walked into that boardroom with her dad.”
“She wasn’t thrilled. I can tell you that much. I was thrown for a loop myself.” He hesitated, but then decided if he was going to get her on his side, he should be completely open. “Can you imagine how I felt, standing there with the great Cole Hamilton Sr., being introduced to his daughter? His daughter whom I already know—better than most.”
Mary Ellen’s lips twitched, he hoped it was a smile. It was. She pressed her lips together and shook her head, but she couldn’t hold it in. “Oh my God! No. I can’t imagine.”
He chuckled. “It wasn’t fun, believe me. My heart was beating so loudly I thought he must be able to hear it, too. And, poor Chelsea looked horrified.” He met Mary Ellen’s gaze with a smile. “She held it together, though. She didn’t drop her coffee or anything.”
Mary Ellen laughed. “I was just stunned. I’d been waiting to see if I’d catch a glimpse of this horrible man who’s coming in to carve up Zosca and make Chelsea miserable, and then it turned out it was you!”
He sighed. “I’m not here to make her miserable. I’m not here to carve up the company. I’m here to help her—to make it a better company.”
“I guess that depends on how you define what’s good and what’s better.”
“I guess it does, and from what I’ve seen and pieced together, Chelsea cares more about the quality of her wines, than she does about the finances.”
“Zosca’s doing okay!”
“I know. I didn’t say it isn’t.” He’d hoped he was getting Mary Ellen on his side. He didn’t want her to get all defensive again.
“Sorry. You didn’t. I just assume that you’d see that as a bad thing.”
“I don’t. I’m only here to help Zosca achieve its goals. I just need to know what those goals are.”
They were outside the boardroom now. “Well, hopefully, she and her dad can agree on the goals, but I’m afraid you’re going to be helping her dad achieve what he wants, at her expense. She’s my friend, she’s a great winemaker, and she’s a sweet, generous spirit. So, I’ll be reserving judgment till I see how it goes.”
Grant nodded. “Fair enough. But I’m really not here to hurt her.”
“Let’s hope you don’t then.” Mary Ellen opened the door with another unconvincing smile.
“Grant, come on in,” said Mr. Hamilton.
Grant smiled and took a seat at the huge table opposite Chelsea. He caught her eye, hoping to make some kind of connection, but all he got was a brief nod of her head.
“I’m pleased to tell you that Chelsea and I have reached a compromise.”
Grant almost hoped that he’d decided to let her run Zosca her way and that they didn’t need him anymore. He could talk to Cameron and get involved in a different project.
“Yes,” said Chelsea. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to tear the company apart, just yet.”
Her father scowled at her, but Chelsea folded her arms defiantly.
Grant looked to Mr. Hamilton to explain. “We’d like you to work alongside Chelsea for the next few months. I’d like you to fully audit and assess all operations. I’d like a written report at the end of the period, with your recommendations on how to improve the business. At that point, we’ll decide whether we implement your suggestions or whether Chelsea would rather continue to run things her way—under her own steam.”
Grant wasn’t sure he understood. “I can run a full audit of the books and give you written recommendations if that’s all you’re looking for. I don’t need to be here hands on to do that.”
Chelsea nodded. “I think that would be much better.”
“No.” Mr. Hamilton spoke so firmly it surprised them. “I want the two of you to work together.” He looked at Chelsea then turned to Grant.
Grant nodded. He wasn’t sure what he was getting into, but if it meant that he got to be around Chelsea every day for the next few months, then he was in. He looked at her. “I’m up for it unless you have any reservations?”
