His mouth twisted unhappily. “One meeting with the buyers isn’t going to change anything, Hope.”
He was underestimating her. In a crisp businesslike tone, she repeated firmly, “The meeting’s at nine sharp, Chase. I assume I’ll see you there?”
Realizing evidently he owed her at least that much, he held her gaze a long moment, looking into her eyes until she flushed and had to fight herself not to back away. Then he nodded his agreement circumspectly.
She hadn’t changed his mind, but what the hell, he thought, he’d give her one more day. For his dad’s sake and for Joey’s. But then he would have to lower the ax. Like it or not, he had no choice. “I’ll be there,” he promised inexorably, letting none of his emotions show. “You can count on it.”
Chapter Two
Knowing she had a battle in front of her, Hope walked into the conference room with her head held high. She took her place at the head of the table and motioned for everyone else in the room to sit. Among the buyers was Chase Barrister. In a dark blue suit and tie, he looked very somber and businesslike. He’d also had a haircut, and the dark ash-blond layers were arranged in a neat, preppy style. Used to seeing him more casually dressed, his blond hair rumpled, his posture defiantly casual and laid-back, Hope was disconcerted by his formal attire and exacting attitude. For the first time, he looked a lot like Edmond—powerful, observant, demanding. And though Chase had always possessed Edmond’s wit, intelligence and consummate people-sense, he had never shown the slightest inclination to indulge her the way Edmond had. Realizing that, Hope felt her nerves jangle. And she wasn’t the only one on edge.
She could see that the seasoned staff was wondering at Chase’s presence, too. Although he had worked at the store, summers, while in college, he had not expressed any interest since. He never attended board meetings, never mind Hope’s weekly conferences with the staff. Deciding the only way to get through this was to plunge right in, she said, “You’re all aware of the lack of recent profits. To survive, Barrister’s is going to have to change. We can no longer cater strictly to the socialites. We’re going to have to try to capture some of the yuppie market, too.”
“You’re not serious, are you?” Steve Supack asked, his look both astonished and grim. Informal spokesperson for group, Steve was in his mid-forties. He had been with the the company for over twenty years, working his way up steadily from clerk to head buyer for menswear. Although he did not have a college degree, his sense of style and ability to please even the rudest, most discriminating customer had proved invaluable. Edmond had trusted him implicitly.
“I never kid about anything this important,” Hope said, meeting Steve’s level gaze. She knew they were all thinking that if the prices and quality of the merchandise went down, so would the size of their sales commissions. She had also known for some time that this had to be done and that it was going to be an uphill battle. Change was never easy, even when it was necessary. She would face criticism from every source—clients, rival businesspeople, and her own employees. But it was the only way she knew to save what had been her late husband’s life work, and preserve her young son’s inheritance. So persevere she must, no matter how formidable the odds or how disbelieving her employees.
“The changes will be effective immediately. We are going to cater to a broader range of clients, carry fewer high-ticket items, do away with all in-store displays of whimsical gifts, and become a more mainstream department store.”
She glanced at the sea of apprehensive faces, purposefully avoiding Chase’s steady, intent gaze. This was hard enough without worrying about what he thought of her ability to run the business, too. She would deal with him later, only when she absolutely had to. Right now, she was concerned about her employees.
She understood and shared the fear of the thirty buyers in front of her. If her plan didn’t work, they would doubtless join the stream of other elitist family-owned department stores that had filed for bankruptcy in recent years. But she also understood what they didn’t, and what she hoped Chase would soon, that this was the only chance they had to survive. “We’ll begin with the Houston Galleria store. If the changes test successfully here, we will change all the other Barrister’s around the country in the fall.”
“What do the Board of Directors have to say about this?” a feminine voice from the back challenged openly.
Hope looked up and her heart sank as she focused on the thin blond socialite. It was Rosemary Barrister, Edmond’s first wife! When had she walked in?
Chase turned at the sound of his mother’s voice. Hope noted, with something akin to satisfaction and surprise, that he didn’t look any happier to see his jet-setting mother than she felt. Holding her voice steady, despite the hatred and resentment she felt emanating from the other woman, Hope answered firmly, “The Board has already approved my plan.”
Rosemary shook her head. “You’re going to ruin the reputation of this store.”
Everyone whispered, apparently agreeing with Rosemary.
Hope struggled to control the meeting. “There won’t be a Barrister’s if we don’t make the changes necessary to survive in today’s more competitive marketplace.”
Apparently she succeeded in getting across just how desperate their situation was, for the staff fell silent. Feeling drained, and fearing another rude outburst from the volatile Rosemary, Hope dismissed the group of buyers, adding, “I’ll expect to see your revised stock orders on my desk one week from today.”
The mood somber, everyone filed out. Some, like Steve Supack, who had known the family for years, paused to say hello to Rosemary. Chase got up and walked to the window overlooking West-heimer.
Wishing to avoid a run-in with Rosemary, Hope began stuffing papers into her briefcase. To no avail. The minute the conference room had cleared out, a belligerent Rosemary shut the heavy oak doors and faced Hope and Chase. “I’ll see you in hell before I let you destroy Barrister’s!” she warned.
“Mother,” Chase said curtly, looking as aggrieved as Hope felt.
“I told you I’d handle this.”
“Look at her!” Rosemary said. “Barrister’s is being ruined. And she still looks like she has the world by the tail!”
Chase looked at Hope. His mother was right about that. Hope did look fantastic, even under fire. But then she always had. That had been part of the problem. Even at a very young, naive nineteen she had possessed a strikingly sensual beauty that had doubtless haunted every man who’d ever come in contact with her. She had wide, vulnerable blue eyes, a generous mouth, bee-stung lips, and pearly white teeth. Those features along with the silky thickness of her dark hair and fair skin never failed to command a second, and third look from men and women alike. And though Chase had tried to remain unaffected, he had noticed. He had always noticed, even to his considerable guilt, when his father was alive.
It didn’t help matters to notice that in the years since Joey’s birth, her slim figure had filled out. Now, her curves were more lush and womanly beneath her white wool dress and red blazer.
If they’d met under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have bothered to hide how he felt, but would have pursued her with everything he had, not stopping until she was his. But that hadn’t happened. He’d met her as his father’s wife and he still had to try to think of her that way, out of respect. To do otherwise would be wrong.
Oblivious to his traitorous thoughts, Hope turned to his mother and said in a soothing tone, “I’m sorry you’re upset, Rosemary. Believe me, this pains me as much as it does you.”
“I doubt that,” Rosemary said, making no effort to hide the malevolence in her voice.
Chase