An Improper Affair. Anna DePalo
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she countered, “If that’s the case, then how could you know about any discussions I might have had with Sperling, Inc.?”
Her negotiations with Sperling were still in their early stages. She had yet to see a contract, in fact.
“I have my sources.”
She raised an eyebrow. The idea of Ryan engaged in corporate espionage struck her as funny, even under the circumstances. “A spy?”
“It’s not spying when it’s all in the family,” he asserted.
“And you all get along so well,” she shot back.
She knew the company that owned Sperling department stores was completely family owned, its shares divided among various Sperling extended family members.
“I’m not like my sordid parent,” he said bitingly, looking her up and down. “That’s more than I can say for you.”
She bristled.
“On second thought, I should have recognized you. The similarity to your mother can’t be missed.”
She felt heat rise to her face again as her temper ignited. She’s spent years making sure she didn’t become her mother. She’d worked hard to get where she was—and, unlike some people, she hadn’t had the benefit of family money to back her up.
She couldn’t do anything about the curvaceous figure and dark coppery red hair that she had in common with the loose-living, fun-loving Brenda Hartley. But these days, people around Tahoe knew her as the owner of a successful small business and as a respectable member of the community. And that’s just how she liked it.
“Let me show you the door,” she managed, gritting her teeth.
He tossed some bills on the counter, much more than the crystal candlestick holders were worth. “Consider this my contribution to the cause.”
Two
“Phew! Who was that?” Erica said as she glanced back toward Distressed Success’s front door, where she had just entered and Ryan had just departed. “Looked like Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous.”
“Mr. Tall, Dark and Irritating is more like it,” Kelly responded, wrinkling her nose. She was still steaming over Ryan’s attitude.
Kelly had hired Erica, a cute blonde and married mother of two, to help her out in the shop part-time, and her assistant was just showing up for the day.
As Erica continued toward her, she looked down at the bills scattered on the counter. “Well, it seems as if he liked what he saw.”
“Yes,” she agreed acerbically, “until he realized whom he was seeing. That was Ryan Sperling.”
Erica’s eyes widened.
“Yep,” she said in confirmation, “Webb Sperling’s son.”
She glanced down at the counter. Ryan had left double what the candlestick holders had cost.
Damn Ryan Sperling, she thought. He made her feel unclean accepting his money, just as she felt unclean doing business with Webb Sperling.
“It’s too bad he turned out to be someone you’d never want to get involved with,” Erica responded. “He’s the hottest guy to walk in here in months.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” Liar, liar.
“What’s he doing in Tahoe?” asked Erica, picking up the scattered bills.
She shrugged. “Taking a vacation, I assume. And with any luck, I won’t be running into him again.”
She filled Erica in on the encounter with Ryan.
Since being hired to work at Distressed Success three years ago, Erica had become her close friend. Though Kelly was cautious about what she told people regarding her past, she’d confided in Erica about her childhood in Clayburn and her mother’s affair with Webb Sperling. More recently, Erica was aware of her negotiations with Sperling, Inc. and how they’d come about.
“From what you’ve told me,” Erica said finally, “he wasn’t too happy about your doing business with Webb Sperling.”
“Well, there’s nothing he can do about it.”
Yet, despite how adamant she sounded, she found herself shaking off a feeling of unease.
“Still, maybe it’s best if you got this contract with Webb finalized, sooner rather than later,” Erica observed.
I couldn’t agree more, Kelly thought.
“I’m going to get back to opening those boxes of merchandise that arrived yesterday,” Erica announced.
“Thanks.”
After Erica had headed back to the stockroom, Kelly found herself left alone with thoughts that she couldn’t push away.
The encounter with Ryan Sperling had shaken her up more than she cared to admit to Erica. Ryan exuded power, even a little ruthlessness, and he made her nervous on every level.
By Ryan’s own admission, however, he and his father were estranged, so there was little he could do to meddle in her negotiations with Sperling, Inc. Or was there?
She knew from press reports that Ryan had made a fortune gobbling up cable companies. She’d also read he’d inherited from his paternal grandfather a small minority of shares in the family business, but other than that, he had nothing to do with the Sperling retail chain.
On the other hand, Ryan seemed as if he’d be all too eager to upend his father’s best-laid plans, particularly when they had anything to do with his former mistress.
Somehow, Ryan had known about her attempt to get her goods into Sperling stores and he’d seemed none too pleased at the prospect.
Kelly shook her head. Of course, she wouldn’t be in this predicament if she hadn’t said more than she wanted to her mother.
She still rued the day she’d confided in Brenda that she hoped to find a national retailer to carry designs under the Distressed Success name.
The last time her mother had breezed through Tahoe, Brenda had been short on cash again and looking for “a small loan,” and, as usual, Kelly had offered up some money, knowing she’d never be repaid.
Brenda had taken the opportunity to look around Distressed Success and comment on the latest inventory.
“These jewelry boxes are gorgeous, tootsie,” Brenda had said, holding an embroidered silk and stone-encrusted case.
“Thanks,” she’d said, walking over. “I hired a manufacturer to produce samples from some designs I sketched. I’m selling some of the samples in the store, but I’m hoping to find an outside vendor for them, too.”
She hoped if the samples sold well in Distressed Success, she’d have an easier time getting a big chain to carry them. Her dream wasn’t to carry other designers’ goods in her boutique, but to build up Distressed Success into a national, even international, brand using her own designs.
Brenda perked up. “A vendor?”
Her mother turned the jewelry box around in her hands, inspecting it. Her nails were long, manicured and fire-engine red, a color that matched her lips.
Not for the first time, Kelly wished her mother would tone it down. Brenda’s makeup was perfect for television or for the Las Vegas showgirl she’d once been, but in the harsh light of day, it just looked garish.
Then again, Kelly reflected, since her mother’s life often resembled a soap opera, the makeup wasn’t completely inappropriate. Brenda continued to live in the fast lane, her devil-may-care attitude still going strong in her fifties.
Kelly sighed. As a teenager, she’d been embarrassed by her mother’s loose living. Her mother had drunk, smoked and partied hard. And now it appeared