скачать книгу бесплатно
“Really? Then post my job and give me yours.”
“That’s not possible at the moment.”
“Then you’re not on my side.” She turned to go, before she said what she was really thinking. This reeked. She’d worked for every scrap of success and Chase had swooped in and stolen the dream job he thought was no big deal.
If he ran it the same way he had last time, well, she wouldn’t stand for it. No, she wouldn’t.
“Hold on,” he said, moving to block her from leaving. “Whatever you’re thinking about this, just stop. We can work this out. I promise you.”
“What do you want with this job anyway? Don’t you have deals to broker somewhere else?” The words came out snottier than she’d intended.
“Not at the moment, no,” he said, not seeming offended. “As a matter of fact, we’re starting a new project here. It’s different from what I usually do.”
“Yeah?” she said. “What is it?” She had to be polite.
“We’ll be building low-cost modular houses for first-time buyers who lost out in the mortgage crash. We’re calling it Home At Last.”
“Wow. That is different.”
“It’s nice to be on the ground with a project, actually building something tangible. Not numbers on paper.”
“I imagine that must take a lot of time. Starting something like that.” How could he manage the mall, too?
“My partner Chet handles the day-to-day stuff. My job is getting the investors, which means evening meetings, some showings, phone calls. It shouldn’t interfere with what I do here if that’s what concerns you.”
“Oh,” she said. “If you’re sure then.” Now what? She wanted to hide somewhere to lick her wounds, but the mall came first. “So, exactly how do you figure we can work this out?”
Chase looked at his watch, then grimaced. “We’ll go over it all tomorrow. I’ve got to meet with my partner.”
“You’re leaving? On your first day? This isn’t a job you can just pop in and do for a few hours, Chase. We need a lot more than you gave us last time.” She stopped short, sucking in a breath at what she’d done—conjured up Starr’s illness.
Pain washed across Chase’s face.
“I’m sorry. That was the wrong thing to say.”
He managed a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll start fresh in the morning,” he said. “In the meantime, I need you to get me detailed revenue reports for the past two years, all your notes from the consultant’s visit and her full report, along with anything else that will give me a clearer idea of the mall’s status and revenue potential. Can you have that ready by the morning?”
“Easily,” she said. Did he doubt her? Was he double-checking her work? Don’t say it, she told herself, gritting her teeth. It was too soon to pick a fight with the man.
But she wouldn’t let him off easy, either. “If you can wait a moment, I can make you a copy of my presentation to go over tonight. Also, you might want to read through the mall policy manual. I have a great book on mall management you should dig into. You know, to get yourself up to speed.”
“Tomorrow,” he said on a sigh. “We’ll get into that in the morning.” He looked suddenly weary, as if he’d rather be anywhere but there.
He doesn’t want the job.
The idea blasted through her, leaving hope in its wake. Maybe Chase would see that this responsibility was too much to juggle with his new business. Maybe he’d bail and Sylvie would be where she belonged, fully in charge of the mall she loved.
Right. And maybe the mall Santa gave good little girls what they wanted for Christmas.
PULLING INTO THE PARKING lot of the high-rise that held McCann Development, Chase left the BMW convertible Fletcher had loaned him and strode inside. He buzzed up the elevator, breezed through the glass-and-brass door and burst into his brother’s office, mad as hell.
Fletcher looked up from the papers on his desk. “It’s customary to knock,” he said. “That’s why we put in doors.”
“It’s also customary to get your facts right before you send someone to do a job for you.” He dropped into the leather chair opposite his brother’s fancy mahogany desk.
“What are you talking about?”
“That was utter crap about Sylvie moving to Seattle. Worse, she wants the GM job, which, by the way, she’s qualified for. Wait until I tell her we’re considering selling the—”
“Sylvie’s not getting married? Really?”
“No, she’s not.” Chase eyed his brother. That was an odd detail to focus on. “Why? Are you interested in her? Still?”
“No. Of course not.” But Fletcher’s face had turned I-lied red. After all these years. Hmm.
Though who was Chase to talk? He’d felt sparks the moment he saw her again. And gotten that whole hold-still-and-be-here vibe stronger than ever. Not to mention how good she smelled.
But he was human and they had history.
A screwy history, but history nonetheless.
“That’s what Mary Beth told me and she tracks the social stuff pretty damn close. So Sylvie’s not going to Seattle?”
“She’s staying right here. Now she wants me to hire a new operations manager and make her general manager.”
“We can’t afford a new hire and you know it. Believe me, once we tell the tenants we’re selling, she’ll be glad you’re taking the heat instead of her.”
“That is far from certain, Fletch. Sylvie’s report was impressive. A mall consultant says we’ve got a solid niche as a destination mall. We’ve always made good money out there.”
“We’re developers, Chase. We don’t belong in retail.”
“Diversity gives us legs—flexibility and range, too.” He wasn’t about to make a knee-jerk decision or act on assumptions. “Dad might not be so crazy to want to hang on to the profit center.”
“Come on. You and I both know that for the General this is about Mom. He treats the mall like her shrine.” Pain flashed in his brother’s eyes. A pain Chase knew well himself.
“That’s not the whole story, Fletcher.”
“Oh, yeah? He was into the photo albums the other day, Mom’s music on the stereo, moping around, drinking whiskey. Mom’s gone and he’s got to get past it. Selling the mall will help.”
“He won’t see it like that.”
“He will when you present the numbers.”
“Numbers can tell different stories.”
“So tell the right one. I’m counting on you, Chase.”
Chase stared at his brother, as immovable as their father, who seemed to think once Chase convinced Fletcher to keep the mall, Chase would stay on as manager. The General had never forgiven him for going off on his own.
But no way would he stay.
Chase gathered investors, did deals and moved on. He needed challenge, variety, new horizons. A mall manager was a glorified landlord. Frankly it puzzled him why anyone as smart and talented as Sylvie would settle for something so small.
“I’ll do a complete analysis, Fletcher. As I told you.”
“Wait until you talk to the broker. Now is the time to sell. I’m talking a bidding war here. You’ll see.”
“He could be blowing smoke to get our business.”
“We split the proceeds three ways, remember,” Fletcher pressed. “Don’t tell me that after Nevada you don’t need the cash.”
The jab hit home and Chase flinched. “I don’t need the mall proceeds to survive.” Though the failure of Home at Last in Las Vegas had hit him hard in more ways than financial.
“I realize that,” Fletcher said, softening his tone. “How’s it going for you here? You’re out in the far west valley?”
“Yeah. There are the usual hassles, but Chet’s managing the day-to-day operation. I’m getting investors.” The pieces had come together quickly, considering all the McCann Development connections.
“You trust him? After what he pulled?”
“He didn’t pull anything. We were both swindled.” Chet had accepted the builder’s word on permits and clearances and Chase had let it slide. The builder skipped town with half their capital and they lost the rest when inspectors forced them to raze what had already been built. They’d trusted good intentions, when they’d needed hard proof. Chase had learned his lesson—never let his heart override his business sense. This time they were crossing all t’s, dotting all i’s.
“The lawsuit’s been called off?”
“Yes.” Only Chase’s negotiations skills and firm commitment to repay them had kept the furious investors from filing suit. He and Chet would have won—there were no guarantees in this business—but it would have been a waste of time and money for everyone involved.
“Good, because the last thing we need is legal bills.” Fletcher looked suddenly bone-weary.
“What’s up with you?” Chase leaned forward. “The truth now.”
“Nothing.” Fletcher blew out a breath. “I’m leveraged is all. We’ll be okay.” He searched Chase’s face as if deciding whether or not to confide in him. “See, I bought into an assemblage in Chandler right before the bubble burst—without getting the General involved. I’ve been scrambling to make up for it, but so far no luck.”
“I know a limited partnership looking for property near high-tech plants.”
“Not the guys who want to sue you, I hope.”
“Hey, play nice. No. Different group. I pitched Home At Last to them, but it’s too slow-growth. I might talk your property up…that is, if it’s not too bone-headed.”
Fletch smirked at the return jab. “You’ve got enough on your plate already. I’ll work it out.” He sounded more discouraged than Chase had ever heard him.
“Let me help. This is what family does.”
Fletcher tapped his pen against his blotter. “Okay. Yeah, I’d appreciate you putting in a word. The General takes it better if I have a solution when I break a problem to him.”
“Hell, you’re partners. Equals. Don’t let him second-guess you.”
“Easy for you to say. You don’t deal with him every day.” Unlike Chase, Fletcher had stayed on to fight the losing battle for their father’s approval.
“If you hate it, leave. You don’t have to stay with the company to prove you love the guy. Even if that’s what he expects.”
They locked gazes again, the old resentment hanging like stale smoke between them. Chase took off. Fletcher stayed. Fletcher believed Chase got more slack with the General because he was first born.
The bitter truth was that no one got slack from Marshall McCann.
Fletch broke the gaze-lock first. “I don’t hate it. I run most of the operation.”
“He could bring someone else on board, if you wanted to do something on your own.”
“He’d never trust anyone outside the family. We have enough trouble with him second-guessing our contractors. I’m not going anywhere. I have no secret unfulfilled dreams.” Like you.
Chase chalked the sarcasm up to his brother’s financial worries. “I’ll help where I can. I’m here now.”
“Yeah, you are.” Fletcher managed a faint smile. “You being around has cheered him up, at least.”
“Not so I’ve noticed.”
“That’s the General. He can’t let on he’s pleased to the one who pleased him. You know that.”
They both shrugged, regarding each other with the familiar sense of being comrades-in-arms against their difficult father.
“If it helps, tell him the Chandler buy was my idea,” Chase said with a half smile. “He’d be pleased to have another example of my poor judgment. He hasn’t let up about Nevada once. He somehow thinks that screwup will finally scare me back home.”
“Will it?”
“No way. As soon as this is over, there’s a limited partnership investment deal in Portland they want me in on.”
“Yeah?”
“Meanwhile, I’ve got Sylvie to handle. She’s hurt and angry and I need her cooperation to do this right.” Far from being relieved to have Chase’s help, she seemed to doubt his competence based on those bad months three years ago.
“You’ll work it out, I’m sure. Frankly it wouldn’t hurt her to move on. Mary Beth says she lives and breathes the mall. She needs a personal life.” Fletch shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable that he’d said all that about Sylvie. He’d obviously been doing some thinking about her.
“Like you should talk. All you do is work, Fletcher. You’re just like Dad before Mom humanized him.”
Fletcher shrugged off his words, so Chase poked at him some more. “The Seattle guy’s out of the picture with Sylvie now. Maybe you should ask her out.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Fletcher’s brows shot up. He looked like someone had splashed his face with cold water.
“You do still have a thing for her.”
“Are you nuts? That was years ago…almost a decade.” But Fletcher was getting redder by the second.
“Did you even ask her out back then?”
“Once, yeah. She wasn’t into it.” He looked down at his desk.
“Things change. Feelings change.”
“Not Sylvie’s. Not about that.”
