Tailored for Trouble (Happy Pants #1) - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page 0,103
first plane here.”
“She’s crazy.” Chip, who wore some weird lime green and orange plaid outfit, tugged on his mother’s elbow. “We should go upstairs and let Jean Claude handle her.”
Ah. So Jean Claude was the smarmy guard, who, at that moment was shaking his buggy-eyed head no. He didn’t want to deal with her.
“You be quiet, Chip Rutherford,” Taylor said, “or I’ll tell your mother how you helped ruin my spotless reputation and career because you and your friends took turns trying to get me into bed. All just a friendly bet with a million-dollar ante of course.”
Chip’s beady eyes bulged from his head.
Taylor continued, “Or I’ll tell her that you blackmailed me into being your dinner date that night just to make Bennett jealous.”
Mary turned to Chip, looking outraged. “Well, Chip, I can’t say it’s the worst thing you’ve ever done, but I did think I taught you better.”
“But Mom,” he whined weakly.
“You and I will speak later,” Mary snapped and then looked back at Taylor as Chip slunk away toward the elevators. “Ms. Reed, I do apologize for my son’s behavior,” she said calmly. “Sometimes he has the maturity and wisdom of a turnip. But what is it you wish to discuss with me?”
“The merger with Bennett—I mean, Mr. Wade.”
“Ah, I see. And you flew all the way here to try and persuade me to change my mind?” Taylor could see the indignation building behind Mary’s calm façade. She didn’t like anyone questioning her.
“Yes,” she replied, ready to tread carefully. “But only because I don’t think you understand—”
“Dear girl,” Mary interrupted curtly, “I began running this company when you were in diapers. So don’t patronize me. My decision is final. I’m not selling to anyone, and least of all to a shark like Bennett who will likely just chop the company into bits and sell it off. Now, I’m very sorry you cut your beach vacation short, but I must go now.” She turned and began walking toward the elevators.
“Wait! Please. That’s not why he wants the company. In fact, buying your company will cost him everything he has.”
Mary turned and looked at her. “Why would that fool do such a thing?”
“He’s trying to help a lot of people who were left with nothing. And I know you understand what that’s like. Please, just give me five minutes.” Taylor held up her hand. “Five. And then I promise I’ll never bother you again.”
Mary grumbled something under her breath as the elevator doors slid open. “Fine. Five minutes, Ms. Reed.”
—
Once up on the top floor, in the glamorous conference room adjacent to Mary’s office overlooking Paris, it took much longer than five minutes to tell the story about Bennett and why he wanted to give up so much for his project. But Mary listened with a dry expression to the entire sordid, heartbreaking story.
When Taylor was done, she folded her hands neatly in her lap and waited nervously for Mary to say something.
The silence likely lasted only seconds, ten at most, but it felt like an eternity.
Mary leaned back in the armchair at the head of the long glass conference table and gazed out the window. Finally, coming to some conclusion, she turned her head of white hair back to Taylor. “You’ve given me a lot to think about, Taylor.”
Taylor’s insides did little flips. “So you’ll reconsider?”
“Yes, I will.”
Taylor jumped out of her chair and hugged Mary. “Thank you. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means.”
Mary peeled Taylor off. The hug might’ve been a tad overstepping, but she just couldn’t contain her happiness. “Sorry. I just can’t tell you how relieved I am.”
Mary smiled stiffly. “Well, I haven’t decided anything, so don’t count your chickens yet.”
“It’s all I could ever ask for.”
“Well, Taylor, I’m late for my dinner meeting so—”
“Yes. Of course.” Taylor moved away from the table. “I’ve taken up too much of your time.”
Mary rose. “I’ll let you know of my decision tomorrow.”
Taylor couldn’t help herself and hugged Mary again.
Mary patted her arm awkwardly. “Okay, thank you.”
Taylor wanted to bow or curtsy or do something to express how grateful she felt as she walked away, but that would be weird, right?
“Oh, and Taylor? I have a question: May I ask why you came all this way and not Mr. Wade?”
With all the excitement, she had sort of left that part out. Perhaps, subconsciously she’d hoped never to have to tell anyone.