Trent meticulously reviewed the data that had been faxed to him on Liaisons. He’d set up a small office in his hotel suite in L.A. It was fully equipped with a computer, printer, a copy and a fax machine. He’d already had his computer linked via modem to the main headquarters in Sudan and in Hong Kong.
The financial stability of Liaisons was excellent. He’d verified the credibility of the accountants, attorneys and had conducted a background check on all of Liaisons’s staff.
As he leaned back in his chair he breathed a sigh of relief. Noelle Maxwell was unquestionably an astonishing businesswoman, not merely a woman in business. There were no outstanding debts. All of the structures exceeded building codes and revenue was pouring in.
If he had any doubts about her capabilities they had certainly been laid to rest.
He closed the thick manila folder and stood up, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets as he did. To look at her one would easily assume that she was merely a pampered heiress with delusions of grandeur, he mused. To the contrary, Noelle was a woman of substance, with talents yet untapped. But did she have what it took to manage an empire as complex as Jordan’s? More importantly would she be able to handle the truth once it was revealed to her and possibly give up her one dream to save Jordan’s? Of that he was still unsure.
His own personal feelings about her seemed to be clouding his judgment. He wanted her. He wanted her like he hadn’t wanted any other woman. And the intensity of his emotions made him feel vulnerable. A feeling that was totally foreign to him.
He’d already revealed too much to her last night. It had probably cost him his credibility in her eyes. He couldn’t let that happen again. He owed it to Jordan to see that the instructions of his will were carried out. Emotional entanglement with his widow was not part of the package.
“I’ll see you later this evening,” Noelle called out as Tempest waved and drove away.
For several moments Noelle stood in front of the building that housed Joseph Malone’s suite of offices. He was obnoxious as far as she was concerned and she knew that he didn’t hold her in very high regard. Whatever civility he showed her was purely due to the very large retainer that Jordan had paid him.
She pushed through the glass door and boarded the elevator to the third floor, wondering all the while what made her think that he would tell her anything.
The reception area was paneled with dark maplewood. Any semblance of sound was easily absorbed into the thick grey carpet. It reminded her of a scene from some old black-and-white “B” mystery movie. Yuk.
She walked directly to the secretary’s desk, with her three-inch, sling-back heels sinking into the carpet with each step. She had the hilarious notion of being swallowed by grey quicksand.
Alice Bernstein, the middle-aged secretary, looked up at her over her wire-rimmed glasses.
Her face flushed when she recognized Noelle. “Mrs. Maxwell, what brings you here?”
Force of habit compelled her to quickly check the appointment calendar on her desk. “I don’t see your name in the book.” She said the last word with an almost holy deference. “Was someone expecting you?” She removed her glasses and looked every bit like the affronted secretary.
“No Alice, I don’t have an appointment. But I would like to see Monsieur Malone. Is he free?”
Alice Bernstein’s silver curls seemed to spring to life.
“Oh—Mrs. Maxwell, you know that it is quite impossible to see Mr. Malone without an appointment.” She reshuffled the small, neat stack of files on her desk. Alice took pride in the one fact that her life was dictated by order. Any interference threw her completely off balance and the sudden appearance of Noelle Maxwell had done just that. She didn’t like it one bit. She reached for her always handy cup of water and took a sip. She immediately felt more composed and in control. She squared her chin.
“If you’d like to give me a date and time when you’re free, I’d be happy to…”
“I’m free right now, Alice. And I’d like it very much if you’d tell Monsieur Malone that I’m here,” she stated firmly.
Noelle stood her ground tossing back the icy stare with one of her own. Generally, Alice Bernstein had the ability to unnerve Noelle. Even as she stood before her, she had the inclination to make a bee line for the elevator. But she wouldn’t let the old general intimidate her today. She wasn’t leaving until she had accomplished what she’d come for.
Alice was completely astonished. She wasn’t used to anyone not following her instructions. Especially Noelle Maxwell. All one usually had to do was raise an eyebrow and she’d back down. When did she finally get some backbone? Alice had to admit, although never to Noelle, that she admired her nerve.
Alice loudly cleared her throat.
“If you’ll just have a seat over there.” With her pen she indicated a row of grey chairs. “I’ll see if Mr. Malone can spare you a few moments.” She picked up the phone.
Noelle released the long-held breath. “Thank you.”
Moments later, Joseph Malone flung open his door. “Noelle,” he boomed in a deep basso voice. “Please come in.”
It always amazed her that this reed of a man could have such a powerful voice. She supposed that’s what made him such a master in the courtroom. He was just as rangy and taut as ever, she noted. He’d always reminded her of a predator ready to swoop down on an unsuspecting victim.
As Noelle approached, he placed his bony arm protectively around her shoulder, ushering her into his office. Noelle cringed.
“Now, what can I do for you?”
Noelle took a seat opposite the maplewood desk and crossed her legs. She reached into her pocketbook and produced the letter from Jordan.
“I’d like you to explain this to me.”
Briefly he scanned the letter and returned it to her.
“I really can’t see how I can explain the contents, Noelle. I wasn’t privy to the…”
“Please don’t patronize me, Joseph. You know perfectly well what I mean. Where was this letter? And why am I just receiving it from your office?”
Joseph pursed his thin, pale lips, placing his index finger thoughtfully across them.
“I had instructions,” he said simply. “I was to have this envelope delivered to you, one day after the official opening of Liaisons.”
“What? Jordan didn’t even know that I would go through with it.”
“Perhaps. But, if and when you did, you were to receive this letter.”
Noelle exhaled heavily. “Is there anything else I should know, Joseph?”
The pain in her voice almost touched him, but he pushed it away. He was no longer obligated to her. The last retainer check had been cashed upon delivery of the letter. But why did she have to look at him with those eyes so full of anguish? Something inside of his chest twisted.
He cleared his throat. “There is a codicil to your late husband’s will.”
“What are you talking about? I was there when it was read.”
Joseph nodded indulgently. “Yes and according to my instructions, the codicil was only to be read by Trent Dixon.”
Her head began to pound.
“I see.” She stood up. “And I suppose I’m not to be privy to that either?”
“I’m afraid not. My instructions were quite clear.”
“Thank you for your time, Joseph,” she tossed at him, more annoyed at herself for having thought that