Willard didn’t even blink. The attorney in him worried about her inheritance, the father in him worried about her, period. He made no apology.
Sydney chuckled. “Boring white…maybe a pair of paisley once in a while. Am I right?”
Rick didn’t smile. “You can’t keep treating these threats lightly, Syd. It’s kind of nice having a sister, and I’d like to see you make it to your twenty-fifth birthday. Let Willard arrange for some protection until Wainwright Corporation is legally turned over to you.”
Sighing, she wandered over to the window, laid her forehead against the glass and stared idly out at the Dallas skyline. Turning twenty-five should mean all a girl had to worry about was if her next date might be Mr. Right. Or whether it was time to switch to Oil of Olay.
Not worrying about gaining control of a multimillion-dollar company or division buyouts or union organizers getting ticked off because they might lose their foothold. Sydney understood the pitfalls of having that much responsibility and power, but no way did she believe the union would resort to murder. It didn’t make sense.
She turned back to the earnestness in Rick’s eyes. Hard to believe he was her brother. Physically, they were opposites. His eyes were blue, his hair dark blond, while she was boring brown all the way.
She pushed away from the window. “I’m not going to live in fear. I had to do that half my life. I won’t do it anymore.”
“This is different.”
“You don’t understand.” Their gazes met and hers quickly skittered away.
As her father’s bastard child, Rick had grown up poor while she’d been privileged with the Wainwright name and wealth. At times, guilt gnawed at her. She wasn’t to blame for her father’s shortcomings, of course, and Rick never showed resentment toward her. But the sad reality pricked her sense of fairness.
Rick snorted. “You’re right. I don’t understand living in fear of being kidnapped because I had a rich daddy who’d pay my ransom, but dammit, these threats are real. This isn’t about speculation or a mere precaution. Take it seriously. Err on the side of caution, for Willard’s and my sake, if not for your own.”
Emotion suddenly threatened. There was no bitterness in her brother’s tone. He was truly worried. After the first threat, he’d slipped into protective mode, always asking her where she was going and what time he should expect her back.
Still, it wasn’t as if she was being foolish about her safety. She’d taken a self-defense course, and she never went out alone at night. Nothing was likely to happen in broad daylight. Anyway, she refused to hand over her whole life to whoever was behind these threats.
Willard had been eerily quiet and Sydney finally chanced a look at him. He stared at her over steepled fingers. Lines of tension etched his face. She was partly responsible for putting them there. Her decision to split up the company was causing some havoc, but in the long run, she knew everyone would be better off.
He’d changed since her parents’ death. He worked harder, was at the office all the time. He’d assumed full responsibility for both the business and Sydney, even though she constantly assured him she did just fine on her own. Willard needed the break. He’d enjoy retirement. He already had plenty of money, and once Sydney was through, he’d have more than he could spend in three lifetimes.
“I’ll think about it.” She adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. “But right now, I have to run or I’ll be late.”
“Where are you going?”
“None of your business. And I mean that in the nicest way.”
Rick shook his head and slowly got to his feet. He looked tired. He’d been working nonstop trying to learn about the company, and now he was worrying about her.
Impulsively she gave him a peck on the cheek. “I really will think about taking a short vacation.”
His mouth curved in a cynical smile. “Want me to drive you to wherever you’re going?”
“No, thanks.”
Rick grunted and looked at Willard. “I’ll get you a sandwich.”
Willard nodded, but said nothing until Rick left. “Where are you going, Sydney?”
She sighed at his impatient tone. “I have a hair appointment at Divas.”
He didn’t look pleased. “Don’t forget we have a board meeting tonight,” he said, while adjusting the cuffs of his custom-made Egyptian cotton shirt.
“Tonight?” Sydney frowned. “I thought it was tomorrow night.”
“It’s on your calendar.”
“Yeah, but I thought it was…” She shook her head. “I’ll be here.”
“If you have something else planned, I could—”
“No, I was only going to have dinner with Jeff, but we can change it to tomorrow night.”
At the mention of the attorney’s name, Willard’s gray brows came down. “You’re still seeing him?”
“Still? We’ve only had four dates.”
“I don’t like him. He’s a social climber. Probably more interested in your trust fund than you.”
“Thanks.”
“Get that phony wounded look off your face. You know the pitfalls of being in your position. I’m only looking out for your interest, and I tell you, I don’t trust the man.”
“You don’t trust anyone.” The flippant tone she used belied the heaviness in her chest. Willard was wrong. The wounded look wasn’t phony at all. She knew he could be right. It wouldn’t be the first time a man was more interested in her bottom line than her own bottom.
“Good thing, young lady. You’re too naive.”
Sydney made a face. “I’m going to forgive you for being so grumpy and overbearing because I know you have my best interest at heart. But like it or not, I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions.” She blew him a kiss. “I’ve got to run, but I’ll be back in plenty of time for the meeting.”
“How are you getting there?”
She gave him a tolerant smile and left his office before he bombarded her with more questions she had no intention of answering. Besides, he’d have a cow if he found out she’d been taking cabs around town.
It was just so freeing to finally be able to make her own decisions about where she went and how she got there. It didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate his and Rick’s concern. In fact, it had always been Willard and her mother who’d been there for her as a child. Her father had cared for her, in his own self-absorbed way, but it was her mother, Inga, who’d made sure Sydney had all the love and emotional support a child needed to grow up without prejudice or fear and with a keen sense of fairness.
It was the latter that ironically appeared to be getting Sydney into trouble. In her opinion, Wainwright Corporation had become too large, after having gobbled up smaller companies. When one of the senior vice presidents had approached her to allow him and two other executives to buy out their divisions, Sydney agreed and put the same offer on the table to all other division heads.
That’s when the shit hit the fan. Willard told her she was insane. Her brother suggested she not be so impulsive. The union leaders threatened blood would be shed if they were ousted from the Wainwright factories. It all had gotten so complicated, when all she wanted to do was get a tan and count on a date every Saturday night.
The elevator dinged the moment she pressed the button and when the doors slid open, Jeff walked out with a florist’s box of long-stemmed