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He studied her. “Sorry, but I just don’t get it. If you were Uncle Michael’s beloved stepdaughter, why wouldn’t he just leave you the shares in the company? Didn’t he know how much you love French Kiss?”
She turned away. “He knew.” A buzzer went off, and Olivia reached out and pressed a button on the phone. “Yes?”
“Sorry to interrupt.” Kelly’s voice came through the speaker. “But your mother is on line one and says that it’s an emergency.”
Olivia’s shoulders tightened. “Thank you, Kelly.” She glanced back at Deacon. “Do you mind getting out of my chair?”
“Not at all.” He got up and slid the chair over.
If looks could kill, he would be six feet under. Which made his smile even broader. He liked this feisty Olivia much better than he liked the poised businesswoman. Or maybe he just liked knowing that he could get under her skin.
He moved to the sitting area and sat down on the couch. It was as hard and uncomfortable as it looked. He picked up a French Kiss catalog from the coffee table and thumbed through it. It wasn’t the first time. He was on their mailing list—under an alias, of course. An exasperated grunt had him looking up from the hot model in a lacy bra and panties to the ticked-off woman in a business suit. It didn’t sit well that he found Olivia almost as hot.
“So I guess you’re not leaving,” she said.
He shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere to go. This poor Beaumont only had enough money for the plane ticket.” It was an out-and-out lie. He might not have had enough money to build his condos, but he had enough to cover a plane ticket and hotel. But damned if he wasn’t enjoying toying with Olivia. However, the kiss had been a mistake. One that wouldn’t be repeated.
She sent him a glare before pressing a button and picking up the phone. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Mother, but I’m kind of busy right now. So what’s the emergency? Did…” Her gaze met his before she swiveled the chair around and lowered her voice. “Did she throw another temper tantrum?” She paused for only a second before speaking in a voice at least three octaves higher. “Jail? She’s in jail!”
Although he continued to thumb through the catalog, Deacon was all ears.
“What happened? Oh, good Lord.” With the phone cradled to her ear, Olivia swiveled back around and placed her checkbook in the briefcase. “No, we can’t leave her there, Mother.” Another pause. “No, I don’t have a clue how to bail someone out of jail, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out.” Hanging up the phone, she stood and grabbed her briefcase.
Deacon flipped down the catalog and got to his feet. “You’ll probably need a bail bondsman.”
She stopped on her way to the door and turned to him. “Excuse me?”
“That’s what you’ll need if you want to bail your friend out of jail.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Thank you.”
He flashed her a smile. “Anytime.”
She studied him for a long moment before heading for the door. As soon as she had it open, she spoke to her assistant. But not as to an employee as much as to a friend she didn’t want to offend. “Umm, Kelly, do you think you could reschedule my morning meetings? I need to drop…something off at my house and won’t be back until the afternoon. And once Mr. Beaumont signs the paperwork on my desk, would you mind making him a reservation at a nice hotel and taking care of anything else he might need before he leaves town?” She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes almost daring him to contradict what she’d just told her assistant. “Goodbye, Deacon. Have a safe trip home.”
Then, with the twitch of shapely hips and the click of purple high heels, she strode toward the elevators. Once she had disappeared around the corner, Kelly spoke.
“Is there a hotel you prefer?” She gave him a slow once-over, followed by the flirtatious bat of her overly long eyelashes. “Or if you like cozy, you could sleep on my couch, Mr.…”
“Beaumont. And whatever hotel you choose is fine.”
Kelly’s eyes widened. “Beaumont? Are you related to Michael Beaumont?”
“He was my uncle.”
“So you’re his nephew? The one he willed the company to?”
Deacon nodded. “That would be me. But you don’t have to worry. I don’t have any plans to take over.”
Her excitement dimmed. “That’s too bad. What French Kiss needs is someone to take charge. Ms. Harrington is nice and all, but she’s a bit of a pushover. Which might explain why we’re going bankrupt.”
“Bankrupt? French Kiss is going bankrupt?”
She glanced in both directions before she leaned in. “Since I’ve only worked here a few months, I don’t have all the details. But rumor has it that, once you find out about the company’s problems, you’re going to sell it to the highest bidder. Which is going to suck for me since my roommate moved out with her rat bastard of a boyfriend and left me with the lease. And do you have a clue how expensive it is to live in San Francisco? Not that I’m hinting for a raise or anything. I would just like to keep my job.”
Deacon was stunned. Last he’d heard, French Kiss was pulling in billions a year. Now it was going bankrupt? It didn’t make sense. And why would Olivia spend all her money on a company that was going under?
As if reading his mind, Kelly continued. “Although I think Ms. Harrington has something up her sleeve to save the company. I overheard her talking to her mother about a secret weapon.”
