The Playboy's Protegee. Michele Dunaway
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He loves you!”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough.” A tear went down Barbara’s cheek. Megan reached for a tissue and wiped it away.
Her mother was referring to Megan’s father, who had dumped Barbara when she’d first been diagnosed with MS fifteen years ago. Barbara smiled brightly, as if the matter was concluded.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” her mother said. “There’s some dinner for you too. Bill even brought you some of that five-layer chocolate suicide cake you love so much.”
“He’s going to make me fat. I’ll split it with you,” Megan said. She rose to her feet. “In fact, I think I’ll go get it and eat it first.”
“You’re not fat,” Barbara called after her. “Girls who are five-foot-eight like you need a few pounds on them or they look too scrawny. But you are perfect. Any man would be thrilled to have you.”
Maybe, until they learned that her mother came with the package. Not many men wanted to date her after discovering her invalid mother lived with her.
Personally, though, after seeing how Bill loved her mother, Megan wanted no part of any shallow, superficial man either. So, in essence, she’d given up dating. Right now, working at Jacobsen Enterprises and supporting her mother were much more important priorities.
Megan went into the tiny kitchen and took the carryout container from the refrigerator. She lifted the lid, her mouth watering at the sight of five layers of chocolate cake with milk chocolate frosting sandwiched between each layer. A dark chocolate frosting, sprinkled with grated chocolate, covered the entire cake. Nestled in the corner of the white container was a small cup containing the special chocolate sauce.
As always, Henrietta’s chef had been more than generous with the portion. Megan took out a fork. Nothing like chocolate to make a girl feel better. She took a bite and walked back into the living room. Delicious.
“No offense, Mom, but you need to keep Bill just so we can keep getting this cake.”
“I guess he does have his uses.” Megan heard the love in her mom’s voice, meaning that Barbara’s early melancholy had lifted. She was one of the most up people Megan knew, but even her mother did get depressed occasionally. How she remained as chipper, after needing to sell her home and move in with her daughter, was beyond Megan. Her mother was her hero.
“So any idea who is to be your mentor?” her mother asked after Megan fed her a piece of cake.
Megan wished she could lie, but she’d never been able to, especially to her mother. “Harry Sanders.”
Barbara looked impressed. “The grandson?”
“One and the same.”
“You don’t sound so thrilled about it.”
“I’m not. He hates me.” Megan filled her mother in.
Barbara ate another bite of cake. “Actually,” she said finally, “I think he will be a perfect choice for you. If you can deal with him, then you can deal with anyone.”
Her optimistic mother would see the silver lining. “As usual, you’re probably right,” Megan said. “I didn’t think about it that way.”
Barbara smiled. “Joe Jacobsen must really think you’re special if he gave you his grandson as a mentor. I think you’ll discover that this works out better than you had ever hoped.”
Megan forked the last bite of cake into her mouth to keep from answering. That remained to be seen.
TWO WEEKS LATER Megan stepped out of her cubicle and one last time attempted to smooth the wrinkles out of her skirt. It was her best suit, but the stubborn wrinkle at midthigh refused to budge.
“Good luck,” Cheryl, the floor receptionist, called as Megan stepped into the elevator that would take her upstairs and to her first executive-level meeting as part of the Jacobsen Stars program.
“Megan, welcome,” Joe Jacobsen greeted her as she stepped off the elevator. “We’re in the large conference room. Just follow Sally.”
And Joe passed Megan off on Sally as he waited for the next person.
Megan made a quick mental note. This was why Jacobsen was one of the best places to work. It was class personified. Knowing each “Star” would probably be nervous, Joe Jacobsen had greeted them personally and then had his secretary show them to their respective seats. His foresight eliminated what could have been many awkward moments.
Sally showed Megan to a seat between Jill Benedict and Alan Dalen, other Jacobsen Stars. Harry was across the table from her. His eyes narrowed as she pulled her chair out. “Harry,” she said as she sat.
“Megan,” he acknowledged before he reengaged the executive sitting to his right. It was the first time she’d seen him since their ill-fated meeting two weeks ago.
“I’m too excited,” Jill confided to Megan.
“I know. It’s a great opportunity,” Megan replied as Joe Jacobsen came to the head of the table.
“Welcome, everyone. I’m excited to announce that this meeting marks the first of many for our new Jacobsen Stars. Today’s session is a think tank on the acquisition of Evie’s Pancake Houses that we are planning. The information is in the folders in front of you.”
Like everyone else, Megan opened the folder and studied the pages as Joe Jacobsen kept talking. “We’ve run into a problem, though.” Everyone turned their heads to look at their boss.
“We never went after this as a merger. Evie’s is a privately held chain of ten restaurants in the New York City market. Most of their value is in the actual real estate of the buildings themselves. Anyway, we now have competition. Odyssey Holdings has come along and proposed a merger. Whereas we would have been refurbishing the restaurants and replacing the Evie’s name, they’ve proposed to keep it. Thoughts?”
Conversation began flying as people began tossing out ideas. Megan half listened but at the same time she started to really study the portfolio in front of her. Evie’s, named for the owner’s wife, was only being sold because the owner wanted to retire and none of his children wanted the business. Whereas Jacobsen Enterprises wasn’t offering any stock, just cash, Odyssey had proposed stock options in its company as well. Odyssey had also proposed to keep all the restaurants open.
“I think we need to offer them more money,” Harry said. “After all, we only want half of the locations and the rest can be sold to recoup some of our initial investment. Several of the restaurants are actually not showing a profit anymore.”
Megan tapped her pen on the binder. She was missing something.
“That idea has merit,” someone else said. “Some of the neighborhoods are not experiencing urban renewal. We should get out while we can before property value drops further.”
Megan watched Harry nod his agreement, a strand of blond hair falling into his face. He pushed it back. “Exactly what we should do,” he said.
“But it’s the wrong thing to do.” The room got quiet and Megan realized she’d spoken her thoughts aloud.
“And just why is that? Do you have a reason to back your thoughts up?” The words, of course, came from Harry.
Megan glared at him. She would not let him get to her. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
She turned and directed her comments to where Joe Jacobsen sat. “Mr. Jacobsen, Evie’s is a chain of restaurants named after the owner’s wife. It’s her legacy. No amount of money is going to sway him. Sure he wants financial freedom for the rest of his life, but not at the expense of his wife. It would have been like Dave Thomas selling Wendy’s and it suddenly being called Sandy’s. You have name recognition. That comforts people. It’s why travelers on highways often go to McDonald’s instead of the truck stop. They know what they’re getting.”
“And