Desperate Measures (17 page)

“Watch where you’re putting that knee,” he said in a high, piping voice.

Realizing how close she had come to unmanning him, she flushed, then giggled. “Sorry.”

“That’s better. Where were you going anyway?” he asked.

“Nowhere, really. I was just getting more comfortable.” She settled back down against him, pulling the sheet up over their bodies.

“I think we’ll spend the weekend here,” he said, stroking her arm.

She thought about the three disapproving faces. They might not like her, but she’d be a fool to give up Joe without a fight. Determination flooded through her. She wouldn’t worry until she had good reason to, she decided.

“I think I like that idea.”

He rolled on top of her and smiled wolfishly. “Sex maniac.”

She pressed her thighs to his. “Looks like my knee missed by a wide margin.”

“Thank your lucky stars.”

She burst into laughter at the drop in his voice.

He nuzzled her ear, then said, “Will you stop laughing so we can make love?”

She abruptly sobered, although one last giggle escaped her lips.

“That’s better.”

He leaned down to kiss her when the telephone rang.

“What the …” He sat up as it rang again. “I knew I should have waited to have the phone installed.”

“That’s what you get for being a conscientious company executive,” she said, rolling onto her side. The muscles of his back intrigued her, and she began to trace them with her fingers.

“The entire plant had better be exploding,” he said, snatching the receiver.

Ellen frowned as Joe’s voice went from anger to frustration to restrained rage. She couldn’t tell what the problem was from his clipped answers, but she knew it was serious. Leaving off her play, she sat up next to him and wound the sheet across her body.

Joe didn’t crash the receiver down. Instead, his movements were deliberate, almost slow. Ellen held her breath, realizing he was so angry he was afraid to express it.

“I’m sorry, Ell,” he finally said, his expression stony. “That was my father. An emergency meeting of the board of Carlini Foods has been called for tomorrow afternoon.”

“This is about your firing Mario, isn’t it?”

He nodded, and she put her arms around him. “You did the right thing, Joe.”

“I know.” He held her tightly. “Much as I was hoping to, I didn’t think I’d avoid this. Mario’s taking quite a chance with his pride.”

“We’ll go back now,” she said. “That will give you time to prepare.”

“I’ll need you tomorrow.”

Part of her wanted to refuse. She hated confrontations, and this would clearly be a family one.

“Of course,” she said, overcoming her reluctance. Joe needed her.

Less than twenty-four hours later, she was wishing she’d heeded her common sense. She never felt more like an intruder as she listened to the wrangling among the family members in the conference room at the Carlini Foods executive offices.

Worse, she’d been accompanied by her grandmother. Lettice, when she had been told why her granddaughter had returned and where she was going, had insisted on coming too. No amount of logic, pleading, or shouting had moved the woman from her stance of “You need moral support, my dear. You, too, Joseph.” Lettice had bullied her way into the company boardroom, protests glared down by the “regal eye.” Even Joe’s mother had been cowed. Both Ellen and her grandmother were now seated near the door, away from the table.

Support was one thing, Ellen thought as she glanced at her grandmother, who was avidly leaning forward to catch every word. Gleeful enjoyment was quite another. She sighed. Her grandmother was outrageous sometimes.

Ellen shifted in her chair, again resisting the urge to bolt. Joe had already explained his reasons for firing Mario, with Thomas, Carol, and Jamie backing him. Joe’s father was the chairman, and he had held the meeting in tight rein. The thirteen board members were clearly torn. Their reactions ranged from suspicion, to disbelief, to tears. Ellen understood now why Joe had been so adamant about proof against his cousin. Mario, so far, hadn’t said a word. His face was blank of all expression. That worried her.

“… as you can see, I had no choice in the matter,” Joe said, finishing his side of the story. “I felt a resignation was the only way to keep the recipe safe. Had Mario not been a family member I would have fired him at first suspicion. I felt I must give him every chance. I’m sorry, Aunt
Mary, Uncle Michael. I wish you never had to hear this.”

“But Mario would never sell out the family!” Mario’s mother wailed. Mario’s father was grimfaced.

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Mario said smoothly. “It’s true that I’ve run up a few debts—”

Many of the others grumbled their disagreement.

“More than a few,” Mario conceded. “And my parents have cut off further funding. The family knows all this. But the idea that I would sell the recipe is ridiculous. I took Uncle Thomas to the Sinatra show because I wanted to pay him back for helping me with my department figures for the last quarter.”

“I …” Thomas frowned. “I did go over them with the boy, that’s true.”

“That’s why I took Thomas and not my mother.” Mario grinned. “Sorry, Mom. As for Carol, I only offered to help her, knowing she has her hands full with the new baby. Anyone would do that, wouldn’t they? I don’t know anything about Jamie’s
anonymous
phone call, but I feel bad for him. I’m sorry about the mix-up with the spicers. I had only wanted to try something new that might save the company some money.…”

He spoke very convincingly, and Ellen had a bad feeling that the majority of the stockholders might be swayed to Mario’s side. Mario had a little smirk of tolerance every time he looked at Joe, as if he seemed to recognize the same thing. How Joe held his temper, she didn’t know.

“If that boy is the angel he makes himself out to
be,” Lettice whispered to Ellen, “then I have a bridge to sell these people.”

“Shh!” Ellen glared at her grandmother. Unfortunately, Lettice was probably right.

“… I think maybe Joe has been working too hard,” Mario continued. “He’s been under a lot of pressure lately—”

“You haven’t explained why you were at the skating rink that morning,” Joe interrupted, his voice surprisingly calm. “I’ve already explained how I picked up one of the phones in the plant and overheard a meeting being set up over the sale of the recipe for Mama’s Homestyle, how you were the one I followed to the rink, and how Ellen witnessed you talking with a man. You’re conveniently skipping over that part.”

Mario looked pained. He glanced down at the table and rubbed his finger back and forth along its dark, highly polished surface. Finally he raised his head.

“I was trying to avoid this, but I see I have no choice.” He straightened in his chair. “I
was
approached anonymously to sell the recipe.”

Family members gasped.

“I, of course, would never do such a thing—”

Lettice gave an unladylike snort. Ellen silently agreed.

“—but I thought it best to discover what company was behind that offer and stop it before they could approach anyone else. So I pretended to be interested and agreed to meet the contact person at the rink.” Mario shook his head. “But no one approached me there. Ellen was … mistaken, shall we say.”

Ellen’s stomach rolled with a strange tension.

Mario’s solemnity increased. “After I was fired, I did a little checking around. I thought the other side figured out I was a ringer and that’s why they didn’t show. Now I think their contact person at the rink recognized Joe and saw a bigger and better opportunity to get the recipe. Someone else in this room was at the rink that day.”

Everyone in the room gasped again in shock. Ellen froze in horror.

“… someone whose own father owns substantial shares in a certain food conglomerate from Battle Creek, Michigan. Someone who’s been trying to romance her way to the recipe.”

The room was stunned into silence.

“How dare you accuse Ellen!” Lettice said in a threatening voice.

Ellen laid a hand on her grandmother’s arm, silencing her. She rose from her chair. Shaking with her own anger, she gazed from person to person and saw the varying shades of belief under the surprise. Then she looked at Joe. His expression reflected his astonishment … and doubt.

Pain shot through her as he looked away. How could he believe his cousin? But she knew he must. She refused to defend herself. She had done nothing to defend. Without a word, she turned and walked out of the board room.

Joe was staring at his relatives in disbelief. How could they believe what Mario had said about Ellen? Yet he could see the frowns and sage nods at Mario’s words. At the same moment, the boardroom
door slammed shut behind Ellen, and he realized she had seen the same things he had. He shoved his chair back with a crash and ran after her, as the room again returned to life.

“My son is innocent!”

“In a pig’s eye!”

“Joe! Joe!”

Joe slammed the heavy door against the din of voices and gavel-banging. He ignored it all, knowing he had to catch Ellen. She must be hurting badly. His mother had made a comment or two about Ellen which had bordered on the negative, but he had shrugged them away as her just being a fussy mother. He wished now he’d immediately vocalized his disbelief of Mario’s accusation, not sat silently gaping. He’d been warned about Mario’s “bite,” but he had never thought Ellen would be the victim.

As he raced down the corridor after her, it occurred to him that he ought to be beating Mario into a pulp right about now, yet he put the excellent notion aside for the moment. He couldn’t lose Ellen.

Though she was running down the hallway, he caught her easily and spun her around to face him. He expected to see tears, but there were none. Instead, her face was tight with lack of emotion. Somehow, that was more frightening.

“Ell, they were incredibly stupid in there,” he said, grabbing her shoulders. “I’m sorry, so sorry, if I hurt you by not jumping to your defense right away. But I just couldn’t believe any one of them would even listen to that crap—”

“You … I thought you believed Mario,”

“What!” He pulled her to him. “Never. Granted, he took me by complete surprise with his accusation. He took everyone in there by surprise. I know I was gaping, but I couldn’t believe he would actually try such a ridiculous line. And then when I looked around and saw the relatives believing him … I’m sorry my family hurt you like that. If any of them had an ounce of logic, they’d see all the holes in his story.”

She sobbed once, then wrapped her arms around him. “You looked so … I don’t know, like you were doubting.”

“I was doubting Mario’s sanity for telling such an idiotic lie. I love you, Ell. I would never doubt you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He swallowed back his emotions. He wanted to carry her away from all the hurts in the world, but he knew it was impractical. Still they were a few steps away from the back entrance to his office and the small corner of privacy that office offered. He escorted her to the hall door, unlocked it, and waved her inside. He followed behind her. Once he’d swung the door closed and the automatic lock had clicked shut, he wasted no more time.

“I love you.” He pulled her into his kiss, letting his actions speak for him.

At first, she was pliant in his arms. Then she was explosive, her mouth melding with his. He came back to his senses when he tasted a salty wetness. He lifted his head to find tears trickling down her cheeks.

She managed a smile. “You were right. He did take everyone by surprise. To tell you the truth, I don’t even know if my father has stock in that company—”

“You don’t need to explain.”

She put a finger to his lips. “I just want you to know. My father … he has stock everywhere. I’ve barely spoken to him or my mother since my divorce. I love you, Joe, so much. But … your family. They’ll never believe me.”

“They will, if I have something to say about it. And I do.” He grinned. “Though right now, they’re probably in there voting to fire me. So now we’re both on the outs with our families. And frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. Let’s go start a family of our own. The sofa right next to the door here will do nicely.”

“Joe!”

“Or we could get kinky and try the coffee table.”

Her mouth was open in an O of astonishment, and he took advantage of it. In the midst of the kiss, the sound of the door knob being slowly turned caught his attention. He lifted his head and put a finger against Ellen’s thoroughly kissed lips. Her eyes widened as he pointed to the knob. They both looked and saw it turn twice more.

It didn’t take a genius to guess who was testing the door, and what he was after. Mario, having created chaos in the board room, was now boldly taking advantage of it to steal the CEO’s copy of the recipe right out of his own safe. A scratching sound reached their ears. Joe realized the lock
was being picked. He had no time to consider the how and why of Mario’s actions.

“Quiet as a mouse, and we’ll catch him,” he whispered to Ellen.

He pushed her behind his desk and they crouched down. “There’s stationery on the shelves under the computer,” he said. “Get a plain envelope, shove a piece of paper in it and write ‘City Wage Tax Agreement’ on the front.”

“ ‘City Wage Tax Agreement?’ ” she whispered back.

“Just do it and quick.”

The bookcases lining the wall behind them held more than books, and Joe tilted down a fake section, exposing the latest in digital safes. He keyed in the code numbers, and the tumblers clicked open. Among the contents was a plain white envelope with the words “City Wage Tax Agreement” on it. Joe exchanged the fake one Ellen had whipped together for the original and shut the safe closed, then he tilted up the artificial book section. He shoved the original envelope in Ellen’s hands.

“Go out by the secretary’s office and get my family.”

“Is this—”

“It isn’t Ragu’s. I know you’ll keep it safe. Now, dammit, Ell, go and get help!”

She scrambled away from him and was out of the other door. He allowed himself one quick grin at her astonishment and her speed as he dove into the private bathroom. He left the door cracked, praying it wouldn’t be noticed.