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“You don’t think I can do this, do you?” he murmured without a shred of guile. He was genuinely asking.
She nearly groaned. Boy, she had really inspired his confidence, hadn’t she? “I do. I have absolute faith in you. And myself. The problem is...”
Brain-dead all at once, she scouted around for a plausible reason why she’d bobbled their interaction thus far that didn’t sound like he’d come on to her inappropriately when, in reality, he’d mentioned dinner one time. She’d shot him down, he’d ruefully suggested it would be nice if she’d reconsider and they’d moved on. He’d moved on. She was the one stuck on how to haul the frosty distance back between them, an atmosphere that she usually created so easily.
“The problem is,” she repeated, “that I haven’t properly assessed your strengths.”
Yes. That was exactly it. Brain engaged! If they focused on his strengths first instead of the areas for improvement, there’d be less opportunity for her to stick her foot in her mouth again. And it would help her get a handle on him professionally.
“That’s not true.” A smile climbed across his face, and it was fascinating to watch it take over his whole body. What kind of man smiled with every fiber of his being? “You know I can cook.”
Okay. If that’s what he was giving her to work with, fine. “Then tell me how you can use that to succeed here.”
“Aren’t you supposed to tell me?”
She shook her head. “That’s not how coaching works. Does the coach pull the quarterback off the field and start throwing the passes himself? No. He guides the player according to his knowledge of strategy, honing it to the specific needs of that athlete. That’s what I do.”
“Sounds like I’m expected to do all the work,” he suggested with a wink that should have been smarmy. It wasn’t.
He was far more charming than she’d ever admit. “There’s absolutely no question about that, Mr. LeBlanc. You have a very long battle ahead of you, especially given that you’ve had no exposure to the corporate world. Most men in your position have had years to become...”
“Hard?” he supplied handily. “And I liked it better when you called me Val.”
Brittle was the word that had sprung to mind. But from where, she had no idea. CEOs were resilient, resourceful and, above all, in charge. “To become acclimated. It’s a different world than the one you’re probably used to.”
At that point, he crossed his arms, and it was as telling a gesture as anything he’d done thus far. “What do you think I’m used to?”
The defensive posture put her on edge. She was stumbling again, with few handrails to grasp. He wasn’t a typical client who wanted to leapfrog over the men ahead of him in line to the corner office and had hired her to give him an edge. Val was clearly sensitive, with land mines and trip wires in odd places. Things she had little experience with.
But she couldn’t tell him that.
“You’re used to an environment where people are working toward common good.” She assumed so anyway. All she knew about his charity was that it fed homeless people, an admirable cause, but likely had nothing in common with the corporate world. “LeBlanc is for-profit, and that makes it instantly more treacherous. If you want to succeed, you’re going to have to listen to me and do exactly as I say.”
His brows lifted. “Now that’s the best proposition I’ve had all day. By all means, Ms. Corbin, I’m at your complete command. Tell me what you’d like me to do.”
Her brain automatically added to you to the end of the sentence, and she flushed. He hadn’t meant that. Had he? “Call in your c-suite, and let’s get the lay of the land.”
With a nod, he levered his hips away from the door, grazing her in all the right places—wrong places—as he reached behind him to open the door. Scrambling backward, she landed in the center of his spacious office. Her pulse raced as if she’d recently lapped the building, but why she couldn’t fathom. He was just a man.
He called out through the open door to his admin, asked her to gather together the staff that reported to him and swung the door wide. The cloak of awareness eased a bit, and she dragged air into her lungs. Val strode past her to take a seat at the desk again.
As people began to file into the room, his expression hardened into something more suited to a CEO. Where had that come from? Fascinated, she edged toward the back wall as LeBlanc’s vice-presidents ringed the desk.
“Thanks for joining me on short notice,” Val told the eight men and women who had answered the summons, meeting each one’s gaze in exactly the same manner that she would have advised him to if he’d asked. “We’re in for an interesting ride over the next few months. I’m not Xavier, nor do I pretend to be, but I will keep this company afloat. I hope you’ll all stick around to see how it plays out. If not, there’s the door.”
As Val jerked his head toward it, Sabrina’s pulse faltered for an entirely different reason. Val had morphed before her eyes into a force to be reckoned with.
He’d been toying with her. Throat tight, she watched him lay down his authority with the people he needed most to have his back, struggling to rearrange everything she’d learned about him today.
Valentino LeBlanc’s middle name might well be chameleon. Which made him dangerous in more ways than one. She could not trust him, that much was clear and, come hell or high water, she had to stop letting him blindside her.
Three (#u689feac2-a21f-5dfa-b2d2-25a44475528d)
The next morning, Val arrived at LeBlanc shortly after six. No one else had arrived yet, which had been his goal. Gave him time to acclimate, which had been the number one necessity he’d gleaned from Sabrina yesterday.
As he settled into the CEO’s chair with a cup of coffee—which he’d bet half his inheritance was not Fair Trade or even very good—from the executive suite’s breakroom, he had to hand it to Ms. Corbin. Acclimation was indeed a great first step.
Now, if only she could keep up a string of next steps, he’d be golden.
The office was still soulless, which he’d long attributed to the fact that his father didn’t have one, but Xavier seemed to have followed in Edward LeBlanc’s footsteps in more ways than one. Now that Val was firmly in the CEO’s chair, he’d started to wonder if it wasn’t the other way around: the corporation had sucked the heart from both father and brother, as opposed to the corporation being a reflection of the men.
That wasn’t going to happen to Val. He still felt like crap for his dictatorial throwdown to the executive staff yesterday. It had been easier to channel his father than he’d liked to admit. All he’d had to do was envision the hundreds of times he’d been called to appear before Edward LeBlanc to explain whatever debacle his father had caught wind of and been disappointed by this time.
So that was the trick? Just act like a conscienceless jerk and profits flowed? Totally not worth the gutting. It weighed on him that he’d conformed, falling into the mold that seemed to be what everyone expected from him, including Sabrina. That wasn’t how he wanted to do things nor the kind of man he was. But what if that was the point of the will—to show Val once and for all that he didn’t belong in the LeBlanc family?
If so, Val hoped his father had a front-row seat in hell for the fireworks.
He’d brought in a sweet potato plant from home that he’d grown himself, and the green spade-shaped leaves made him smile. The potato had rolled from a bulk bag at LBC and, by the time he’d found it behind a pallet of dried fruit, it had already sprouted. It was a crime to waste food in Val’s book, so now it had new life as his one and only office decoration.
For about an hour, Val fought with his laptop, eventually managing to figure out how to log in and set up email without breaking anything, all while resisting the urge to check in on LBC. Then Xavier blew through the door.
He stopped short when he spied Val ensconced in his chair. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here so early.”
“Surprise,” Val said mildly. “I could say the same, only with an at all at the end. Don’t you have a food bank to run?”
His brother’s expression left little doubt as to his opinion about the switch. “I left in a rush yesterday and forgot some paperwork.”
Xavier stood inside the door of his office, running a hand over his unshaven jaw, halfway between his old world and the portal to his new one. It was the first time in Val’s recent memory that his brother had let his appearance go. They didn’t see each other all that often—by design—but Val would bet that Xavier always shaved before coming to LeBlanc. What did it say that he’d change his habits to take Val’s place?
“I’ll take care of any paperwork that has to do with LeBlanc,” Val advised him. “Just point it out. My job now.”
Xavier frowned. “Temporarily. Besides, the will didn’t say it was against the rules to check in.”
Check in equaled checking up on Val, no doubt.
“No. And I’m not arguing that point.” Easing back in his chair, Val tamped down his rising temper. “But this is mine, for better or worse, for the next six months. If you have an issue, why not let me handle it?”
Thank you, Sabrina. She was going to be far more valuable than he’d dreamed and, as his first act toward conquering the task laid out in the will, hiring her had been a good one.
“Fine.” Xavier strode to the bookcase along the south wall and pulled open the glass door, extracted a binder that was a good four inches thick and dropped it onto the desk with a thud. “These are printed copies of contracts we’re—you’re—negotiating with the government of Botswana to purchase interests in diamond exploration. Good luck.”
Val’s head immediately began to swim. “You purchase interests in exploration?”
“You do,” Xavier emphasized, heavy on the sarcasm. “Baptism by fire, my brother.”
“Wait.” Val quelled the urge to massage his temples as he sorted through how helpless it would sound if he admitted that he couldn’t handle this. “Can you tell me who’s the best person on your staff to advise me about negotiating with an African government?”
“That would be me.” Xavier’s gaze glittered as he crossed his arms and stared at Val. “I always handle the African government because it requires delicacy. And experience. The politics there are beyond anything I’ve seen anywhere else in the world, especially if you want to keep LeBlanc far away from the blood-diamond regions. Hint—you do.”
Great. So Val’s initial thought about being set up for failure had been dead-on. Not only did it extend from beyond the grave but his brother was planning to perpetuate what their old man had started. “No problem. I’m not above a little research. Are there other contracts of a similar nature in that bookcase?”
Xavier nodded once, a curt move that said he didn’t like giving up information but liked the idea of Val taking LeBlanc down even less. “Anything I need to know about LBC before I go?”
“Just that you can’t treat my people like you do the ones here,” Val said easily, not that he was worried about anyone on his staff getting bent out of shape. He’d debriefed them all a few days ago, begged them to give Xavier a chance and told them if it seemed like he wasn’t getting it to carry on in Val’s stead until he could return to the fold.
LBC had stellar, committed people on board, who cared about making life better for those who needed help. They’d keep on doing that whether or not they had the necessary donations to fund the operation, albeit on a much smaller scale if Xavier failed to complete his task. The tenure of the CEO of LeBlanc Jewelers there would be but a blip.
But Val couldn’t resist the opportunity to make things a little more difficult for his brother. “Remember, a lot of the people involved with LBC are volunteers.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Xavier’s scowl could have peeled paint from the walls if there’d been any. Instead, they were covered with this odd wood-grain paneling that always reminded Val of his father’s lawyer’s office. “Are you implying that I might drive them off?”
“Yeah, that’s not even a remote possibility, is it?” The sarcasm might have been a little thick, but come on. Xavier had to realize how he came across. “We do a lot of compromising at LBC. Some months are leaner than others. We try to maintain an even influx of capital but, when you’re dependent on donations, you can’t plan as well. Remember that flexibility is your friend.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Try not to make more of a mess than I can conceivably clean up, all right?”
“Well, there go all my plans to flush my inheritance down the toilet.” Val shrugged as if he didn’t care, which was how he’d long played it with those in his family who saw him as nothing but a dreamer, who couldn’t cut it in the corporate world. Which might be less of a stretch than he’d have credited before today. “Hey, if I screw up, you’re still good. Just do your thing, and you’ll have half a billion dollars to play with.”
“Yeah, that’s comforting.” Xavier pulled a pen from the holder at the corner of the desk and pocketed it. “That was a gift from the daughter of a Russian ambassador. I wouldn’t want to lose track of it.”
Val snorted. As if stealing pens from LeBlanc was one of his top priorities. “Sabrina’s due any minute, FYI. Make yourself scarce unless you want to say hello.”
“You think it bothers me if you sleep with her?”
“I didn’t until now,” Val lied. “Do tell.”
“She’s frigid, man. You’ll have better luck with the president of Botswana than you will with her.”
“Wanna bet?” Val asked pleasantly because, while Sabrina dripped ice cubes as a matter of course, the glimpses of heat between them had kept him awake far longer last night than it probably should have.
And the stakes had gone up. Xavier was still pissed about Sabrina dumping him, which meant Val was doubly interested in rubbing it in his brother’s face when he did score.
His brother shook his head. “We’ve got enough on the line already, don’t you think? Besides, if you do bag her, it can only help you.”
“And perhaps you should consider that the reason she dumped you is because you’re an ass. I’m not,” Val shot back, a little more hotly than he’d intended, but the sentiment was warranted. Sabrina was a lot of things but not a faceless notch on the bed post. No woman in Val’s rearview was. He loved being with all the women he’d slept with, loved learning their bodies, their laughs. Quantity did not preclude quality. The more the merrier.
“Which is going to bite you,” Xavier informed him. “Bleeding hearts aren’t her type. They don’t increase profits eight percent, even in six years, let alone six months.”
“We’ll see about that.” Val’s confidence might be a little misplaced, given that his one foray into The Buck Stops Here mentality had made him sick to his stomach. “Maybe some heart is what this company needs.”
“And maybe a solid hand is what LBC needs.” Xavier smirked.
Val’s stomach turned over again. His staff would be fine. They knew not to fold under his brother’s dictatorial style. Somehow, reminding himself of that didn’t make him feel any better. “You’d do well to leave your Tom Ford suits at home and dig into LBC’s mission statement with an open mind.”
His brother flipped him a smartass salute and strode out of the office without a backward glance. Good riddance. Val scrubbed at his face with his hands and trashed the unpalatable coffee without taking a second sip. Maybe he could duck out for twenty minutes and make it to Fuel for Humans Coffee near LBC’s main facility before anyone else showed up.
“Ahh, I see we’re taking our CEO position seriously today.”
Sabrina strolled through the door Xavier had vacated mere minutes before, looking far too fresh and untouchable given the hour. A temperature drop accompanied her as if she’d tucked the Snow Queen into her clutch in order to unleash winter upon the hapless souls in her wake.
Of course, the logical explanation lay with the pronounced hum of the air conditioner. But he liked his version better. What fun was life if you couldn’t see the fanciful in the everyday?
Speaking of his overactive imagination, if she’d been in Val’s bed last night—which he’d envisioned more times than he could count—they’d still be there, and her hair would be tousled from his fingers instead of wound up in that severe bun thing. Seeing her in the flesh doubled his resolve to get to that point. Soon.
“Good morning to you too,” he greeted her gallantly. “I was about to go get some coffee around the corner. Come with me.”
“We can’t leave.”
She crossed her arms over the kelly-green knit top she wore under a classy white suit, the skirt of which hit just above her knees. It shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was, but Sabrina was one of those rare women who had such an arresting vibe that you scarcely noticed what she was wearing. Her appeal came from somewhere beneath, and his mouth wanted to uncover her secrets.
After Xavier’s welcome to LeBlanc, Sabrina’s frost needed to go.
“On the contrary, I’m the CEO. I can do whatever I want. Right?”
“Have coffee delivered, then,” she said with raised eyebrows. “We have a four-week plan to go over.”
Lazily, he spun his chair as he contemplated her, the coaching plan suddenly very far down his list of things to do today. “Only four weeks?”
“We have to start somewhere. At the end of four weeks, I can make some assessments about where we are in your progress, then make adjustments. I have no idea how well you’re going to take suggestions or what you’ll do with my feedback. It will do me no good to have spent time on a six-month plan if you ignore everything I say.”
“So far, you haven’t said much,” he countered. “And if you truly wanted to know how well I respond to suggestion, you should have had dinner with me last night.”
Her expression didn’t change, but her gaze flicked over his face. “Because you expect me to spit out commands of a sexual variety on a first date?”
Oh, man. She was far more charmed by him than she knew what to do with. Excellent. He grinned. “Because I had planned to ask you what you wanted me to cook for you. But I like the direction of your thoughts so much better. Now that we’ve opened that Pandora’s box, what commands would you give?”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head, the hard cross of her arms tightening over her midsection. She must not have realized that action had pulled her blouse down a half inch, displaying a very lovely section of her breasts. “We’re not going there today, Val.”
“You started it, not me.” He held up his hands in mock surrender to distract from the sharp little number this whole exchange was doing on his lower half. Didn’t work. But, then, he was starting to think nothing would, except the obvious.
“We have a professional relationship. If we can’t stick to that, then you can find another executive coach.”
Her expression had none of the heat from yesterday. He was failing with her today, for some unknown reason.
With that warning ringing in his ears, Val sobered. Those contacts with the Botswana government still lay prominently in the center of his desk and, as reminders went of how he’d go down in flames without her, that was a stark one. “I take this very seriously. Please forgive me. Let’s go over your plan.”
She rolled her eyes. “And stop being so conciliatory. Men in the corporate world take no prisoners. Don’t ask for forgiveness, and do not look at me with those puppy-dog eyes.”
He had to laugh. “Is that what I was doing?”
“We’re going to have a problem if you don’t take accountability for the changes you need to make. That’s why you hired me, right?”
No, he’d hired her because she liked to win. And because he had a score to settle with his father but, in lieu of being able to do that, he’d settle for taking a few chunks out of Xavier’s hide. Sabrina was his ticket to that. “I hired you because I need my inheritance. You have a proven track record working with executives to better their ability to lead. Nowhere did I agree to change.”
Sabrina blinked. “Then you’ve already decided that we’ve lost.”
No. That was not happening. If nothing else, he needed that money to undo all the damage Xavier would likely do to LBC without Val there to fix it.
“Sit,” he told her with a head jerk at one of the chairs as his temper started simmering again. Or maybe it hadn’t fully cooled from Xavier’s drive-by earlier.
