And what a man he was.
“Just clear the air, sweetie,” Sheila said, giving Anna’s hand a friendly pat. “Tell him you’re sorry you did or you didn’t, but don’t lose your job over it if you can help it. No man’s worth a paycheck, trust me.”
As if she didn’t already know that. “Thanks for the advice.”
Sheila winked. “Anytime. And anytime you want to share the gory details…” She pointed toward the closed office door. “I bet that stud knows a few tricks, too.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Anna said, her professional demeanor as secure as the button that held her modest shirt closed tight at the collar.
Sadly, Anna had to admit Shelia knew what she was talking about. As soon as that door opened, she was going to heed the unsolicited advice. She would tell Parker that despite the kisses and the chemistry they felt, they had to remain employer/employee only. But nothing else.
And once she told him that, she could get back to concentrating on her job. Maybe.
“Thank you for calling me back, Ms. Sinclair.”
“Actually, I use both my last names. It’s Cassie Sinclair Garrison.” She ladled extra emphasis on their shared name and Parker just closed his eyes in revulsion.
But he refused to take the bait. “We need to talk about the questionable provisions in my father’s will,” he said, keeping any hint of emotion out of his voice.
The connection from Nassau was clear enough for him to hear her soft cough. “I’m not aware of any questionable provisions. It was all perfectly clear to me.”
She was not going to be easy to manipulate. Well, of course not. Like it or not, she had Garrison blood in her veins and they were a stubborn bunch.
He powered on. “I think you’ll agree that there’s absolutely no reason for you to be bothered with the responsibility of twenty percent shares of Garrison, Inc. I’ve been running the company—”
“Not a bother at all,” she assured him.
“I make the majority decisions for this company,” he said firmly.
“I understand that and I hope you’ll continue to do so,” she said. “To be honest, I have no desire to exercise my new control, but I’ll keep it. I have a hotel to run.”
Relief washed over him. “Then I’ll have my attorney arrange for you to rescind the shares immediately.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said coolly, as Parker stood and squinted into the Miami sunshine. “I have no intention of rescinding anything. I just don’t want to exercise those shares right now.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. He didn’t like the sound of any of this. “Then why not turn them over to me?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
She wanted money. Of course. “I will have my attorney draw up an extremely fair offer, Miss… Sinclair.”
“It’s Garrison and I wouldn’t trouble your attorney because I will not sell my shares for any price, fair or otherwise.”
“Why not?” She had to know he’d offer her well above market value.
“Because they were a gift.” She paused for a moment, then added, “From my father.”
Parker swallowed the bitter, metallic taste of fury in his mouth. “From your illegitimate father,” he ground out.
“Be that as it may, he was and will always be a father to me. You may not know this, Mr. Garrison, but your father spent a lot of time in Nassau and he took very good care of my mother and me.”
Forget apathy. Forget leaving family emotions at the door. This woman was doing everything in her power to incense him. And it was working.
“Is that so?” he replied. “Frankly, no one in my family—including my mother, the one and only Mrs. John Garrison—was aware of that.”
She was quiet long enough to know he hit a mark. “Mr. Garrison, I’m going to make this very easy on you,” she finally said.
“How’s that?”
“Let’s not talk anymore. If you have anything, absolutely anything, to say to me, put it in writing. I don’t want to discuss business with you. I don’t want to rescind my shares. I don’t want to sell my shares. I don’t want to hear about your mother. I don’t want to meet your brothers and sisters and have a cozy family reunion. Is that clear?”
Oh, she was a Garrison, all right. He didn’t even have to see the cleft in her chin to know for sure. “Crystal clear.”
“Good. And don’t try some underhanded, sneaky way to get rid of me. My father told me you can be ruthless.”
He could be ruthless, all right. And would be, if necessary. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know how much this means to you,” she snapped back. “I don’t put anything past you.”
She didn’t know anything about him and what meant what to him. “Excuse me, but you’re the one who appeared out of nowhere claiming to be a Garrison.”
She choked, her own temper obviously torqued. “I haven’t appeared out of nowhere. I’ve been right here, for twenty-seven years, the daughter of John Garrison and Ava Sinclair. There were no ‘claims.’ “
“You’ll have to prove it.” The words were out before he could stop himself, erupted by his boiling blood. “We want to run full DNA tests and until conclusive proof is on my desk, my father’s will is being contested in court.”
He heard her breath escape in frustration. “Fine. Sic your lawyers on me. I don’t care. Let me run my property the way I always have. Garrison, Inc. will get the appropriate percentage of my profits. In the meantime, stay away from me and I’ll stay away from you.”
She clicked off before he could respond. Swearing softly, Parker threw his phone on the desk and strode toward the door, his command that Anna get Brandon Washington on the phone already forming in his mouth.
He whipped the door open and almost knocked her down.
What was she doing there? Listening?
He glared at her, and she backed up a step, but lifted up her chin defiantly. “I want to talk to you.”
Of course she was listening. The Jefferieses would probably want a full report. He gave her a smile, which wasn’t difficult because even behind those little glasses, she was pretty. Very pretty.
“About what?” he asked, keeping his tone friendly.
She took a deep breath and glanced at the clerk who was slowly unloading the morning mail in front of her desk.
“Morning, Mario,” Parker said, greeting the man who’d worked for the company since the year his father had opened it.
“Mr. Garrison.” He nodded slowly, obviously more interested in the conversation than delivering the mail.
“Please,” Anna said to Parker, starting to close his door. “It’s personal.”
But he put his hand on the wood to keep it open. “How personal?”
She speared him with a look. “Very personal.”
He dipped one inch closer and the color immediately rose to her cheeks. For a spy, she sure had a weak spot. Several of them, in fact. One behind her ear, one just at the rise of her breasts and the weakest of all, the soft inside flesh of her thigh.
His body stirred at the thought. Might be time to exploit those weaknesses. “Then why don’t we discuss it over