For one thing, he knew the economy in Texas was bad. The oil bust in the late eighties had affected everything and everyone. Businesses had gone under by the handful. People who had been millionaires all their lives had lost everything. Entire shopping centers had closed, and real-estate foreclosures occurred by the hundreds. But Barrister’s had not only survived, it had continued to do well, at least while his father was alive. Now, a year later, it was a different story. Now Hope was at the helm. Worse, she was as beautiful as ever and that wouldn’t make things easy.
He couldn’t stand by and let the business his father had built go down the drain, but he couldn’t just walk in and take the business away from Hope either. Not when he knew his father had wanted her to have it. Chase had no real interest in it, save keeping it afloat, but it was Hope’s life.
He had to find a way to turn things around, to ensure the livelihood for all of them continued. And he had to do it in a way that would’ve been okay with his father, which meant not getting rid of Hope. Realizing that, he swore roundly and grabbed for a towel. If this wasn’t an impossible task, he didn’t know what was.
“SO YOU GET TO SPEND weeks and weeks in the jungles, looking for cures for stuff like cancer and arthritis? And you don’t have to take a bath except when you want to and you get to sleep in a tent and cook on a camp fire every single night?” Joey asked Chase incredulously.
Chase chuckled. “That about sums it up, yeah, but it’s not nearly as glamorous as it sounds.”
The dry note in her stepson’s voice completely escaped her son, who was thrilled by Chase’s adventures. “Wow,” Joey continued, shaking his head admiringly. “I wish my mom would let me do stuff like that, but right now she won’t even let me go camping in New Mexico.”
Chase slanted Hope a measuring look. “You don’t approve of the great outdoors?”
It wasn’t that, although Chase was right to assume she wouldn’t want her son to ever have the kind of nomadic, no-ties life Chase reveled in. As far as she knew, Chase had never lacked in female companions, but he had never been serious about any woman except Lucy, and their brief engagement had ended almost as quickly and mysteriously as it had begun, years before. “Joey has asthma. He’s allergic to many of the tree and plant pollens. That’s why he can’t go camping.” A doctor himself, Chase should understand the risks.
Joey scowled. “If Dad were still here, he’d let me go.”
Unfortunately, Hope knew that was true. Edmond had been optimistic to a fault, in that regard. And because of that they’d had to continually deal with the consequences. “Joey—”
His pleasure in the meal with his half brother diminished, Joey said abruptly, “May I be excused, please?”
Realizing this was no time to get into a prolonged argument, Hope nodded her permission. “Be sure you finish your homework before you watch any television.”
“I will.” Joey put his napkin down next to his plate, then shoulders hunched in silent misery, marched off.
Embarrassed, Hope turned back to Chase. Suddenly the air between them was charged with electricity and none of it had to do with the emotional departure of her son. “Would you care for more coffee or dessert?” She was aware her voice and manners were stiff and mannequinlike, but was unable to do anything about it. She feared if she relaxed, even a tad, Chase would see through her flimsy defenses and realize how uneasy and self-conscious she felt, being there alone with him, especially now that she was single again.
He had eaten everything Carmelita put before him, as if he’d been starved for months. And she supposed where he had been, there had been a lack of elegant cuisine.
“I’ll pass on the seconds. Thanks. I do need to speak to you—privately.”
She had been expecting this. “Very well,” she said. She led the way to the heavy paneled library. Once inside, she shut the double oak doors firmly behind them and Chase got straight to the point.
“I’m concerned about Barrister’s.”
Hope felt her spine stiffen. As disinterested as Chase had always been in the store, she hadn’t expected this. Unable to keep the defensive note out of her voice, she retorted, “So am I.”
Chase smoothed his blond hair, then let his palm rest idly on the back of his neck.
Just shampooed, the sun-streaked strands gleamed like gold in the soft inside light, appearing very touchable and distracting in their sexy disarray. And he smelled just as fresh and male.
“Look, Hope,” he began rather gruffly, as he passed her in a wake of rich, woodsy after-shave, “I doubt I can say this without offending you—”
From the reluctant look on his face, she doubted it too. “Just get on with it,” she advised tensely, expecting the worst.
He dropped his hand and leaned against the marble fireplace. “All right.” More comfortable now, he met her gaze and continued flatly, “Popular opinion is you’re mismanaging Barrister’s.”
Hope hung on to her escalating temper with all her might. “Then popular opinion is wrong,” she corrected, just as bluntly.
His fair brow lifted slightly at her tone. “I wish I could believe that,” he said tersely. Then in a softer, more resigned tone, he added, “Try to understand. This isn’t personal, but I can’t let my father’s work end in Chapter Eleven.”
As the threat of what he was saying became real, Hope’s shock abated. “I’m well aware of what happened to Frost Brothers,” she said icily. She got up and moved around the room restlessly. Then she whirled to face Chase, the awkward silence doing nothing to diffuse her anger. “You can rest assured I won’t let Barrister’s end in bankruptcy.” The business meant too much to her. Apart from Joey, it was her whole life.
He crossed his arms at his waist and looked at her frankly. He wasn’t about to give in to every whim. Unlike Edmond, he didn’t care if she was displeased or not. “Neither will I,” he said flatly.
Aware her hands were shaking, she shoved them into the pockets of her skirt. Although she knew him to be a formidable opponent, she had never expected this from Chase, and it threw her. “What do you mean?” With effort, she kept her voice harsh, exacting.
His hazel eyes darkened in a similar show of emotion. “I inherited thirty percent of the stock, Hope. My mother owns ten percent of it.”
Her pulse thudded faster. “Are you asking me to buy your shares?” She faced him in disbelief, disappointment stabbing at her like a knife.
“No.” He shook his head grimly. “I’m asking you to step down as president, effective immediately, and let the board of directors appoint someone else to run it.”
Hope stared at him, feeling both shocked and annoyed at his matter-of-fact tone. Once the conversation had turned to the store, she had braced herself for complaints from Chase about the lack of profits in the past two quarters, but she had never expected this. Knowing Chase and Rosemary Barrister, perhaps she should have expected it. Neither had ever liked her. Neither had been happy when Edmond left forty-eight percent of the stock to her and recommended she replace him as president. But until now, neither had fought her, either. Knowing how rich people liked to hold onto what they had, as well as what they didn’t, she supposed she should have seen this coming.
“Your father wanted me to run the store, Chase,” she pointed out reasonably. “He spent ten years grooming me to do just that.”
Again, Chase managed to look torn. “I know how hard you’ve worked,” he soothed. “I’m sorry it hasn’t worked out.”
Silence fell between them once more and she studied him relentlessly. As hard as it was for her to admit, Hope saw this wasn’t revenge on his part.