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“Thank you, Ms. Harrington.” He nodded at her as she took a seat. “Now I understand why my uncle put so much trust in you.” She didn’t know why those words made her feel so happy. All she knew was that she couldn’t keep the blush from her face or the sincerity from her voice.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He studied her for a long, uncomfortable moment before returning his attention to the board members. “If there are no questions, I think we can adjourn.”
Anastasia couldn’t wait to jump in. “I just don’t see how a few new collections are going to save the company from going under. I think we should take a vote on selling to Avery Industries. They gave us a fair offer.”
“Fifty cents on the dollar is not a fair—” Olivia started, but Deacon held up his hand and stopped her.
“You’re right, Ms. Bradley. Right now, with the way things are, a couple new collections aren’t going to pull the company out of bankruptcy. After looking at the accounts, I think there are—as my grandfather would say—too many holes in the bucket. But instead of throwing away the bucket, we need to find out where all the money is going and plug up some holes. And it’s interesting that most of the problems are in your department.” He gave her a pointed look before directing his next words to the board. “Now, if you want to take a vote, we certainly can. But I think I can tell you how it’s going to turn out. And if you want to jump ship, I’m sure Olivia will be glad to take your resignations. Now, if that’s all the concerns, this meeting is adjourned.”
After only a few exchanged glances, the boardroom cleared. Although there was little doubt in Olivia’s mind that there would be some major discussions on the way out. Once the door was closed, Nash spoke up.
“Impressive, Deacon. I always knew you were meant to be a boss.” He grinned. “You certainly practiced enough on Grayson and me.”
“I don’t think it was Deacon as much as Olivia’s presentation that won them over,” Grayson said. “Your designs are beautiful.”
Olivia couldn’t accept the compliment without giving one of her own. “Your sketches didn’t hurt. How did you have time to do those?”
Grayson yawned and stretched his hands over his head. “It wasn’t that hard, but I could certainly use some sleep now. What hotel are you staying at, Deacon?”
Before Deacon could answer, Olivia found herself speaking up. “After all you did for me, you’re not staying at a hotel. You’re staying at my house.” She grabbed a notepad and pen off the table. “Here’s the address and security code—although now that I think about it, the garage door is probably still open.” She shook her head. And here she thought she’d been so focused. “Babette is sleeping in the guest room, but you and Nash can take the bedroom next to mine until she leaves.”
Nash took the piece of paper. “Thank you, Cousin Olivia.” He smirked at Deacon before he followed Grayson out.
When they were gone, Olivia turned to Deacon. “Why’d you do it?”
He started shutting down the laptop. “You shouldn’t leave your garage door open. Big cities have high crime.”
“I get distracted easily.” Right then she was distracted by the way Deacon looked in a suit and by the way his long fingers stroked over the keyboard, all smooth and efficient. She couldn’t help wondering if that’s how they would feel sliding over her body.
“Nash thinks I have a hero complex,” he said.
She was so mesmerized by his fingers and the fantasy they evoked that it took her a moment to catch up with the conversation. “And you see me as needing to be saved?”
He closed the laptop and turned to her, his eyes intent and his expression solemn. “Don’t you? You have great ideas, Olivia.” He waved a hand at the laptop. “Your designs are amazing. Any man would love to see these on a woman. And any woman would feel sexy as hell wearing them. But for some reason, you decided they weren’t good enough and hid them away. Then you came up with some bizarre plan to design men’s lingerie with a kook from Paris.”
“I still think a line of men’s underwear and pajamas will work.”
Deacon took a step closer. “Then why don’t you design them? Not Babette, but you? I’ll tell you why. Because you don’t think you’re good enough. You don’t think you’re good enough to design men’s underwear. Or women’s lingerie. And you don’t think you’re good enough to be in charge of French Kiss.”
Her temper surfaced. “I’m good enough! I spent most of my life around the lingerie business. And regardless of what the board members think, Michael didn’t hand me anything. I’ve worked my ass off for every promotion I’ve gotten.”
“That’s not why the board members don’t trust you, Olivia. It’s not because you’re the boss’s daughter. And it’s certainly not because you’re not smart or talented enough. It’s because you don’t believe in yourself. And if you don’t believe in yourself, no one else will.”
Olivia tried to pretend that the truth didn’t hurt. But it hurt. It hurt so much that she couldn’t reply without busting into tears. Even though she didn’t speak, one single tear slipped out and trickled down her cheek. She ducked her head and tried to hide it, but it was too late.
“Hey.” Deacon stepped closer and tipped up her chin, catching the tear with his thumb. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just want you to realize that you have everything you need to save this company.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t. I could never do what you did today. Not only am I flighty and unorganized I’m non-confrontational.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You seem to have no problem confronting me.”
“Only because you can be a real jerk sometimes.”
He laughed. “Only sometimes? I must be moving up in Olivia’s world. Although you’ve yet to invite me to stay at your house. And technically, while my brothers helped, I was the one who saved your ass.”
“And I have little doubt that you’re going to make me pay.”
His gaze lowered to her mouth. “Oh, you’re going to pay, Olivia. Now lift up that skirt and show me your panties.”
