The Revenge Collection 2018. Кейт Хьюит
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you need to drag the business into this century. The old-fashioned transport business needs to be updated. You need to take risks, to branch out, to try to capture smaller, more profitable markets instead of sticking to having lumbering dinosaurs doing cross-Channel deliveries. That’s all well and good but you need a lot more than that if your company is to be rescued from the quicksand.’
‘I...’ She quailed at the thought of herself and Oliver, along with a handful of maybe or maybe not efficient directors, undertaking a job of those proportions.
‘You and your brother are incapable of taking on this challenge,’ Javier told her bluntly and she glared at him even though he had merely spoken aloud what she had been thinking.
‘I’m sure if you agree to extend a loan,’ she muttered, ‘we can recruit good people who are capable of—’
‘Not going to happen. If I sink money into that business of yours, I want to be certain that I won’t be throwing my money into a black hole.’
‘That’s a bit unfair.’ She fiddled with the bun which, instead of making her feel blessedly cool in the scorching temperatures, was making her sweaty and uncomfortable. As were the formal, scratchy clothes, so unlike her normal dress code of jeans, tee shirts and sneakers.
She didn’t feel like the brisk, efficient potential client of someone who might want to extend a loan. She felt awkward, gauche and way too aware of the man looking at her narrowly, sizing her up in a way that made her want to squirm.
This wasn’t the guy she had known and loved. He hadn’t chucked her out of his office but, as far as feelings went, there was nothing there. There wasn’t a trace of that simmering attraction that had held them both mesmerised captives all those years ago. He wasn’t married but she wondered whether there was a woman in his life, someone rich and beautiful like him.
Even when he’d had no money, he could have had any woman he wanted.
Her mind boggled at the thought of how many women would now fall at his feet because he was the guy who had the full package.
A treacherous thought snaked into her head...
What if she’d defied her parents? What if she’d carried on seeing Javier? Had seen where that love might have taken them both?
It wouldn’t have worked.
Despite the fact that she had grown up with money, had had a rich and pampered life, money per se was not what motivated her. For Javier, it was the only thing that motivated him.
She looked at him from under her lashes, taking in the cut of his clothes, the hand-tailored shoes, the mega-expensive watch around which dark hair curled. He breathed wealth. It was what made him happy and made sense of his life.
She might be stressed out because of all the financial worries happening in her life, but if those worries were removed and she was given a clean slate, then she knew that she wouldn’t really care if that slate was a rich slate or not.
So, if she’d stayed with him, she certainly wouldn’t have been the sort of woman he’d have wanted. She might talk the talk but her jeans, tee shirts and sneakers would not have been found acceptable attire.
They’d had their moment in time when they’d both been jeans and tee shirts people but he’d moved on, and he would always have moved on.
The attraction, for him, would have dimmed and finally been snuffed out.
The road she’d taken had been tough and miserable and, as things had turned out, the wrong one. But it would be silly to think that she would have been any happier if she’d followed Javier and held the hand he’d extended.
‘We can go round the houses discussing what’s fair and what’s unfair,’ he said in a hard voice. ‘But that won’t get us anywhere. I’m prepared to sink money in, but I get a cut of the cake and you abide by my rules.’
‘Your rules?’ She looked at him in bewilderment.
‘Did you really think I’d write a cheque and then keep my fingers crossed that you might know what to do with the money?’ He’d had one plan when this situation had first arisen—it had been clean and simple—but now he didn’t want clean and simple. He needed to get more immersed in the water...and he was looking forward to that.
‘I will, to spell it out, want a percentage of your business. There’s no point my waiting for the time when you can repay me. I already have more money than I can shake a stick at, but I could put your business to some good use, branch out in ways that might dovetail with some of my other business concerns.’
Sophie shifted, not liking the sound of this. If he wanted a part of their business, wouldn’t that involve him being around? Or was he talking about being a silent partner?
‘Does your company have a London presence at all?’ Javier was thoroughly enjoying himself. Who said the only route to satisfaction was getting what you wanted on demand? He’d always been excellent when it came to thinking outside the box. He was doing just that right now. Whatever he sank into her business would be peanuts for him but he could already see ways of turning a healthy profit.
And as for having her? Of course he would, but where was the rush after all? He could take a little time out to relish this project...
‘Barely,’ she admitted. ‘We closed three of the four branches over the years to save costs.’
‘And left one open and running?’
‘We couldn’t afford to shut them all...even though the overheads are frightening.’
‘Splendid. As soon as the details are formalised and all the signatures are in place, I will ensure that the office is modernised and ready for occupation.’
‘It’s already occupied,’ Sophie said, dazed. ‘Mandy works on reception and twice a week one of the accountants goes down to see to the various bits of post. Fortunately nearly everything is done by email these days...’
‘Pack your bags, Sophie. I’m taking up residence in your London office, just as soon as it’s fit for habitation, and you’re going to be sitting right there alongside me.’
Not quite the original terms and conditions he had intended to apply, but in so many ways so much better...
‘I DON’T KNOW what you’re so worried about. His terms and conditions seem pretty fair to me. In fact, better than fair. He’s going to have a percentage interest in the company but at least it’ll be a company that’s making money.’
That had been Oliver’s reaction when she had presented him, a fortnight ago, with the offer Javier had laid out on the table for her to take or reject.
He had been downright incredulous that she might even be hesitating to eat from the hand that had been extended to feed her. In a manner that was uncharacteristically proactive for him, he had called an extraordinary meeting of the directors and presented them with Javier’s plan, and Sophie had had to swallow the unpalatable reality that her past had caught up with her and was now about to join hands with her present.
Since then, with papers signed and agreements reached at the speed of light, the little office they had kept open in Notting Hill had been awash with frantic activity.
Sophie had refused to go. She had delegated that task to her brother, who had been delighted to get out of Yorkshire for a couple of weeks. He had reported back with gusto at the renovations being made and, inside, Sophie had quailed at the way she felt, as though suddenly her life was being taken over.
She knew she was being ridiculous.
Javier had agreed to see them because of their old connection but there had been nothing there beyond that historic connection. He had made no attempts to pursue any conversations about what had