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“These last few years…” She forced air into her lungs. “My father's relationship with Dartmoor's Chief Financial Officer…” Anger and shame, added to the nervousness that kept her heart pounding double time, finally stole her voice.
Jake chose to be merciful. “The woman he was with when he died?”
She nodded. Able to breathe again, she gave up on spontaneity as a bad bet and launched into the speech her mother would have made.
“Dartmoor Department Stores has suffered from an unfortunate lack of financial oversight recently that has left it in a difficult situation. New leadership…” Her heart stumbled at the thought. “New leadership is now in place.”
At least she’d been able to convince her father’s mistress to resign. Firing her would only have added to the scandal. Unfortunately, nothing could be done about the all-cash golden parachute the former CFO and Madison’s father had set up for her, which had decimated Dartmoor’s cash reserves.
“However,” Madison continued, “the missteps of the previous CFO have left the company seriously short of the capital it needs to move forward in this challenging economy.”
“Missteps, incompetence, or fraud?” Jake interrupted.
Madison looked down. “We’re not sure.”
“Has the new leadership you referred to had a forensic audit done?”
Her face heated. “That would cost more money than seemed wise to spend on the chance it would turn up any criminal misconduct.”
Criminal misconduct, which might, she didn’t bother to add, implicate her father.
She raised her eyes to search Jake’s face for some clue as to what he might be thinking, but met only a stare so cold it knocked what she meant to say next out of her mind completely.
“Go on,” he said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt such a carefully canned speech.”
His disdain shook her mind free of its temporary paralysis. “Unfortunately, most of my mother’s assets and those of the other investors in Dartmoor have also been victims of the economy, and as things stand there’s little chance of attracting private capital or new investors.”
“What about the trust fund from your grandmother?”
Of course he’d remember that little detail.
“My mother and I have been living on it since my father died.” Nana’s money had also put Madison through business school, but she didn’t dare say so. “We’re spending the principal now.” She suppressed a shudder at the thought of how soon they’d use up the last of that.
Jake shook his head. She was probably the only person in the world beside his mother who would recognize the tiny tic of impatience at one corner of his mouth.
His voice was as bland as his features. “So, where do I come into the picture?”
She looked past him out the window at the sunshine glinting off the building across the street. No inspiration there.
If it was up to her, she’d have sold everything and lived in a tent in Golden Gate Park rather than answer Jake’s question. She’d exhausted every other option first. She’d sold the condo where she lived while she was in business school and now shared the Pacific Heights apartment her mother had moved into when she'd been forced to sell their home in Marin County.
Jake sat there, watching her.
Panic swept over her, choked her. She couldn’t do this. There had to be another way. She’d let Dartmoor go and take one of the jobs she’d been offered in Silicon Valley. She and her mother could get an apartment together down there…
And her mother would be miserable. The humiliation of having her husband die in another woman’s bed, then all the stress of learning that they might have to close Dartmoor had already aged Dana Ellsworth ten years in the last two months. She’d had lived a mockery of a marriage for as long as Madison could remember and even that might not have been enough to keep Dartmoor in the family.
Which is why Madison was sitting here, face hot with humiliation, damp hands once again knotted in her lap.
She let out a long, slow breath. “If you would loan my mother…” She couldn’t finish.
He raised his eyebrows in a way she’d once thought the sexiest thing in the world. Right now the gesture made her look for a waste basket, in case her stomach betrayed her completely.
“How much?”
She named a figure that made Jake’s eyes open wide.
“How much of that is for Dartmoor and how much is to support your mother’s lifestyle? Not to mention yours?”
Madison was tempted to tell him her lifestyle, as bare-bones as it had become lately, was none of his business. But that wouldn’t help her mother.
“All the money will be used to implement my plan to revitalize Dartmoor.”
Both his eyebrows went up. “Your plan?”
This was the opening she needed. She lifted the briefcase to her lap and opened it.
“Yes. If you look at the some of my ideas, you'll see…”
He held up his hand. “Spare me. I don't think I can sit through another of your amateur sales pitches.”
She started to protest that her MBA in marketing made her far from an amateur, but the look on his face, somewhere between amusement and rage, stopped her. Instead she set the case down again and tried to ignore the memories that kept flooding back and threatened to make it impossible for her to continue.
“So, the money would all go to Dartmoor.”
She nodded.
“And what will you two live on in the meantime?”
What should she tell him? The whole truth wasn’t an option.
“I've had several job offers.”
Something dark crossed his face, then evaporated.
“Jobs that will pay enough to support your mother’s current lifestyle?”
“No.” That was true enough. “But with my trust fund, we’ll manage.”
He leaned forward in his chair, arms on the desk. With an effort she managed not to draw back, away from the masculine energy of his body.
“And how to you plan to pay back this loan? Out of Dartmoor’s profits? Unlikely, any time soon. Out of your salary? I don’t think so.”
“Jake, I have a photo of you at my christening.” He flinched, probably at the image of himself as a bored, but adorable four-year-old in a stiff black suit. “If you loan us the money, you know I’ll pay you back, no matter what happens.”
“I doubt either of us will live long enough for you to pay me back that kind of money out of your paychecks.”
Somehow Jake must have missed the news that she’d finished her MBA at the top of her class. She sat up a little straighter. She might not have made much in the short term if she’d taken any of those jobs, but in a year, ten years, she’d have been earning the money to pay him back several times over. A man as smart as he was could figure that out. Maybe he wasn’t ready to accept that he’d been wrong when he tried to veto her plan to go to business school.
The impulse to run away that had lurked at the back of her mind ever since she entered the building took over. She set both feet on the floor, ready to stand up, when she remembered that this time it wasn’t about her. It was about her mother and saving the family legacy.
She sat back and crossed her legs. If she had to stay, the best defense might be a good offense.
“If you’re worried I might stiff you for the money by dying, I could take out a life- insurance policy for the full amount and make you the beneficiary. If I pay you back most of it and something happens to me, you’d make a nice profit on the deal.”
He scowled. “That’s not the point. The point is that a loan implies an ability to repay the money. Frankly, I can’t see how that’s supposed to happen. Maybe your MBA will take you right to the executive suite.” She flinched, but he didn’t notice. “Or maybe you’ll get laid off or have an employer fail on you, and then where would I be?”
“Still filthy rich.” Not exactly the right attitude when she was asking him for such a big favor, but the man knew how to push her buttons. All of them.
“So you want me to give you the money for old times’ sake?” He leaned back in his chair and looked her straight in the eye.
She shook off the shattering impact of his gaze, impatient at her inability to keep the past behind her.
Apparently he couldn’t forget what they’d shared either. But she couldn’t believe he’d refuse to help because their wedding plans had fallen through. That didn’t sound like the Jake she’d once adored. She searched for that Jake in the face of the stranger in front of her.
“Is that what you would have said if it was my mother sitting here?”
“Not in those words, no, but whatever I said to her would have led to the same outcome – no loan.”
“What about half that amount?” It was better than nothing.
He shook his head.
The clang of a cable-car bell found its way up from the street below. She took a calming breath against the anger that simmered just below the surface.
“I expected better of you, Jake. I expected you to at least look at my plan to turn Dartmoor around.”
“Because?”
“Because you’re a fair man. And you know I will repay you, no matter what.”
He shrugged and picked up a pen from his desk with a this-conversation-is-over gesture.
“I think we all learned a long time ago that I am the last person to predict what you will or will not do.”
She leaned forward, hands on the edge of his desk. “I’m not asking you to do this for me.” No power on earth could make her stoop that low. “I’m asking you to do it for my mother.”
“I won’t be doing it at all. I was always fond of your mother, but this is business.”
She sank back. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from Jake, but certainly more than that icy dismissal. When he didn’t say anything more, she reluctantly gathered her purse and briefcase to leave, mind already searching for other ways to get the money.
She was halfway out of the chair when he said, “Madison.”
She sat back down and lifted her head.
“Tell your mother I’m sorry.”
“I'm sure she’ll find that a great comfort when they liquidate her family business because you refused to help.”
His eyes narrowed as he stood. “You never do know when to shut up, do you?”
Anger propelled her to her feet. She would not let him loom over her like a predator over its prey.
“Maybe not, but I do know refusing to marry you was the smartest thing I ever did.”
On that blatant lie, she turned to walk out.
“Madi.” The old nickname came unwanted to Jake’s lips. He couldn’t let her go. Not with those words hanging in the air between them.
She turned. Hope battled with wariness in her sea-green eyes as she waited for him to say something. But what?
He needed time to think. To adjust to having her so close he could smell her perfume – the same exotic French scent he remembered, full of unspoken promises. So close he could see the little worry line between her eyes, could touch her…
“Dinner,” he said.
She frowned.
“I don’t have time to listen to your plan now. Let’s have dinner tonight. I can look at what you’ve come up with then and decide whether it can turn Dartmoor around and make a loan viable.”
A glow lit up her face.
“I’m not making any promises.” He just wasn’t ready to let her walk out of his life again.
The light in her eyes dimmed. “Of course not.”
“The Yacht Club?” His turf – and the opposite of romantic.
“Sure. What time?”
“Seven.” That would give him time to have a drink in the bar first. He’d need it. “Do you want me to send the limo for you?”
“No.”
He thought he heard an echo of disappointment in her voice. She couldn’t have expected him to pick her up. This wasn’t a date. It was strictly business. Suuuure it was.
“I haven’t had to sell the Ferrari yet.”
Her sad smile twisted his heart.
“Oh.” He’d refused to let her return his engagement gift after the wedding fell through. What would he have done with the damned car? And she loved it so much.
Her smile faded as they stared at each other for a moment too long. Long enough for the good memories to outnumber the bad. For him, at least.
Luckily his cell buzzed noisily before he could do or say anything stupid.
“I'll see you tonight.” Her voice told him nothing.
He nodded and took his call, all too aware of the door closing behind her as she left.
