“But you ignored us at the wedding.”
“Obviously a tactical error on my part.”
The briefest of smiles flickered across her lips as she pointed to a column of names. “This is a list of major stockholders in Belden Industries. You currently own thirty-eight percent and are still the majority shareholder—”
“Look, Nikki, I don’t want to hear all the whys and wherefores right now, just get to the bottom line.”
She looked up and said bluntly, “You’re going to lose control of your company.”
“Impossible,” he denied, even as something twisted in his stomach.
Mutely, Nikki gestured to the folder.
She was being an alarmist and he was just seasick. “I don’t believe you.”
That got to her. “I know you don’t,” she snapped. “That’s why you’re here and not on your honeymoon with Miss Texas!”
“That would be Mrs. Texas, wouldn’t it?”
“Not…exactly.”
He expected fireworks. Instead, his comment seemed to allow her to regain control and slip back into the I’m all-business demeanor she’d adopted in the early days after their separation.
He’d hated her cold facade, but understood her reasons. Gradually, excruciatingly, they’d both thawed until, as far as Carter was concerned, everything was back to normal—until he’d announced his engagement to Dee Ann Karrenbrock and Nikki had frozen again. But Nikki wasn’t the only one who was cool toward the idea of his marriage to Victor Karrenbrock’s daughter.
No one on his staff liked Dee Ann, but then, they didn’t have to, did they?
“Nikki, I realize you don’t like Dee Ann, so keep her out of this discussion.”
“Gladly,” Nikki responded.
Carter smiled slightly. “Now,” he said, mimicking her tone, “I want information somewhere between that—” he pointed to the blue file “—and losing Belden Industries.”
She gazed at him, her mouth set, her eyes narrowing a fraction. “You currently own thirty-eight percent of Belden’s stock.”
She’d already said that. “Currently. I’m buying back more.”
“So far, you’ve been unsuccessful. I own six percent and Julian, Saunders and few others own a combined five percent. That’s forty-nine percent.”
“Bob’s been wringing his hands about that for weeks. What’s your point? I realize I’m vulnerable, but it’s just under half.”
“Just under half if everyone votes your way.”
His jaw dropped. “What’s—”
“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “No mutiny in the ranks.”
“Then what’s the problem?” he demanded, impatient with her. She hadn’t told him anything new.
“Upon your marriage, you were going to settle—”
“Were?”
“Carter, will you shut up and listen to me?”
His head was going to split. “Okay,” he whispered.
She lowered her voice. “Ten percent of your stock transfers to Dee Ann. That leaves you with personal holdings of only twenty-eight percent.”
Though he had no intention of admitting it to Nikki, Carter hadn’t liked the numbers, either, which was why he was so keen on buying back stock. “But I’ll still control forty-nine percent.”
“Will you?” The words hung in the silence.
Apparently, he’d misjudged her loyalty to him. “What do you own, six percent? Okay, then I’ll control forty-three percent. I’m still founder and majority stockholder. People would be foolish to vote against me.” Carter found himself unbelievably hurt by her betrayal.
“You pigheaded jerk!” Muttering, Nikki searched through the papers, withdrew one and threw it at him. “See for yourself. Here are all the attempts we made to buy stock compared with actual trades.”
Carter snatched the paper and blinked. He hadn’t realized how many offers Nikki’s department had made. Obviously, he’d have to pay more per share. “It’s almost as if someone knew in advance when a block would be available and snatched it right out from under us.” Still scanning the columns, he held out his hand. Nikki placed another paper in it.
Although he hadn’t spoken, it was exactly the information he’d wanted. Nikki had always been able to anticipate his requests, sometimes even before he’d known what they were. He should concentrate on what she was trying to tell him instead of assuming he was right and she was wrong.
“The buyers are all companies,” he commented with a frown.
“We only discovered the connection between Lacefield Foods and Karrenbrock Ventures after the market closed on Thursday. We spent Friday looking for a link with these other companies.”
Carter still frowned. “With Lacefield’s three percent, that gives Karrenbrock control of seventeen percent. Significant, but not a problem.”
Nikki’s eyes met his. “With Dee Ann’s ten percent, he’d control twenty-seven percent, which nearly equals your personal holdings.”
“You’re saying my wife would join with her father to vote against me?”
“Either that or join with you and vote against her father.”
He’d never thought of it quite that way. He’d known he was vulnerable, but he’d expected to beef up his shares before now. Deep inside, Carter felt the beginnings of panic. He suddenly realized that not since its inception had Belden Industries been at such risk. The paper in his hands quivered and he dropped it on the yellow-and-black-striped spread, disgusted by this outward sign of agitation.
Panic is a response that results from a perceived loss of control, he told himself. Carter was in control. He took a deep breath. He’d remain in control. He’d use the panic to provide an edge, an edge that had been dulled by endless wedding preparations.
“Of course, Saunders, Julian and I will vote our shares with you, which will guarantee you thirty-nine percent without Dee Ann’s stock,” Nikki assured him. “What concerns us is the possibility that Karrenbrock, through his subsidiaries, controls even more Belden stock.”
Alegitimate concern, and one he planned to address. “But you don’t know for certain.”
“We need time to find out.”
Carter gazed at her as she returned the papers to the folder, closed it and opened another one.
Mentally, he stepped back to assess the situation and the personalities involved. How much of what Nikki had told him was a valid business concern and how much was fueled by jealousy?
He couldn’t blindly accept the fact that his future father-in-law would threaten his company. It made more sense that the man would take steps to strengthen it so that his daughter—and future grandchildren—would benefit. “Why should I be concerned if my father-in-law owns a large chunk of my company? Shouldn’t I consider that a show of support?”
“I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to consider it, Carter,” she responded in a bored voice. “Victor Karrenbrock is a direct competitor in several areas of industrial manufacturing. You recently positioned yourself to enter oil-field supply, one of his main sources of revenue. It’s a tight, lean field. He’s bound to resent it.”
“Business is business,” Carter stated reflexively.
“Exactly.”