Love Under Two Honchos (8 page)

Neither of them said anything else as they made their way to the conference room. The only person Josh was surprised to see there was Penelope. The buff young man sitting next to her seemed to have all her attention.

“Who’s that sitting with Penelope?” he asked his brother.

Alex narrowed his eyes as he studied the newcomer. “I think his name is Wildes. From P. A. Communications, I believe.”

“Not anymore,” Stella said as she maneuvered around them to put pads of paper and pencils in front of each seat. Dad preferred what he called the “tried and true” means of recording thoughts and notes at a meeting, as opposed to the usual tool for that purpose, the BlackBerry.

“What do you mean, not anymore?” Josh asked.

“Since this morning, Andrew Wildes is Ms. Primrose’s administrative assistant. I think they make a striking couple, don’t you? Of course,” she hastened to add, “I’m sure Ms. Primrose is as prim and proper as her name. Still, they do look good together.”

Just then Penelope laughed at something her admin said. Josh heard the sound, and it had its usual effect on him, skittering across his skin and settling at the base of his cock. He knew he wore a pissy expression on his face, because that’s how he felt. He didn’t like the way Wildes was cozying up to Penelope.

And he didn’t like the fact that she would laugh like that, all out in public and all, and at something
another
man said.

Stella stopped next to them on her way back to the other end of the table. “I heard they call him ‘Wild-man Wildes,’ but that’s probably just a rumor.”

Josh took his seat and continued to stare at Penelope, who as yet hadn’t been able to tear her attention away from the “Wild man” to even acknowledge his presence.

Alex sat down next to him and made a grumbling sound that Josh had no trouble understanding.

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Just then Penelope looked up. “Oh. Good morning, Mr. Benedict,”

she said to him. Then she looked at Alex. “And to you, Mr.

Benedict.”

When she returned her attention to the junior Adonis sitting next to her, Josh turned his head and looked at his brother.

“I think we need to have a word with Ms. Primrose about proper behavior in the office,” he said.

“Right after this meeting,” Alex agreed.

Joshua would have said more, but just then his father stepped into the room and sent him a steely stare.

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55

Chapter 7

Penelope stole a peek at the two honchos on the other side of the conference table. They didn’t look too happy. No, they didn’t look too happy at all.

She didn’t know what imp possessed her to greet them each so formally after studiously ignoring them from the moment they’d entered the room. Perhaps it was the way they’d left her bed that morning—smug and certain that the
little woman
needed a day to recover from their awesome naked selves before coming into work.

Whatever.

Maybe that wasn’t what they had been thinking, but it sure had felt that way on her end.

Penelope was beginning to suspect, just from the odd hint she’d picked up here and there, that while the brothers Benedict were indisputably savvy executives—she
had
researched the performance of the company since they’d taken over—and both possessed very high IQs, they weren’t terribly knowledgeable when it came to how to relate to women.

Oh, they knew how to make a woman’s body sing the “Hallelujah Chorus” and “Ode to Joy,” but when it came to dealing with women as sentient, intelligent human beings with whom they needed to interact, they didn’t have a clue how to go about it.

She would only be too happy to educate them. She figured she’d best do so as soon as possible, because, against all odds and the uttering of her better angel, she was falling in love with the pair. So educating them would really be to her benefit—and theirs. Otherwise
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she might bean them over the head with some random blunt instrument.

Penelope sighed. At first she thought she’d write the feelings she had for them off as a residual of the fact that the two of them reminded her so strongly of the men in her dreams, the men who’d so deliciously and sexily haunted her sleep off and on since she’d turned twenty-one. Then she thought, that first night, the way her hormones had reacted and the way the men had been so turned on by
her,
that it had been an aberration, that one in a kajillion happening, to quote Josh.

But looking at them now, she felt that thumping in her heart, that softening of her middle, and she wasn’t even particularly aroused.

What she was feeling was either the beginnings of a myocardial infarction, or it was love.

Other people entered the boardroom, and their voices produced a low hum. Penelope didn’t know why her presence—and the presence of her admin—had been required by Caleb Benedict for this meeting, but he had invited them, and here they were. She’d done her best to put Andrew at ease. He’d confessed that he’d only ever spoken to one of the honchos once, just after he’d started to work at the company.

Of course he’d be nervous, being asked to attend an executive meeting.

Caleb stood at the head of the table and said nothing, just waited.

When all eyes were on him, he began. “Disturbing letters have been received by the CEOs of this company, over the past month and a half. Letters that have just recently come to my attention.”

Penelope hid her smirk, because her lovers both looked chagrined.

“This meeting is to discuss those letters, and to review our security procedures.”

Joshua sat forward. “When we received the letters, we handed them over to our security chief, Mitchell Grafton.” Joshua nodded at the man who sat on Caleb’s right. Then he looked directly at his
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father. “If we’d thought there had been a need, we would have alerted the family—and you, sir, of course.”

“I appreciate your consideration.” Caleb’s tone sounded dry.

Penelope wasn’t the only one smiling. “However, now I do know, and at your mother’s insistence, here I am. Mitch?”

Mitchell Grafton, whom Penelope had on good authority—

Andrew’s—was a former Air Force Special Operations commando—

got to his feet and pulled out what Penelope presumed to be copies of the letters.

She could see why the man had been a commando. The tall and buff black man gave nothing away in his expression and looked as if he could quite easily eat nails for breakfast. She’d bet he’d been hell on wheels at his job, before taking over as security chief for Benedict Oil and Minerals.

“There were no fingerprints and no DNA found on these letters to give us a clue as to the identity of the person or persons responsible.

They were not signed by any known terrorist organization. Indeed, the letters are only vaguely threatening in tone. However, they don’t seem to be the usual ranting of your typical environmental whack job—”

Penelope sat up straight. “Excuse me, Mr. Grafton. Is there a difference between an
environmental
whack job and, say, a social or economic or political whack job?”

Mr. Grafton looked right at her. “Um…well, no, Ms. Primrose, I don’t suppose there is. A whack job is a whack job.”

“Then I would therefore request that you drop the adjective

‘environmental’ when describing this person.”

Penelope noted that several of the people sitting around the table, including her lovers, seemed taken aback by her comments. Caleb Benedict, however, just smiled.

“Penelope has a point, Mitch.”

Grafton did give a very slight smile when he nodded to her. “Very well. My point was that this person, whoever he or she may be, seems well educated, and older, as evidenced by the choice of vocabulary
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used and the faultless grammatical structure employed. This profile raises the level of seriousness with which we should regard these letters.”

Penelope thought that conclusion completely logical.

“We’re looking at where, exactly, and against whom, precisely, a threat might be carried out,” Caleb said. “Again, we have no idea what sort of resources this person might have, which means we have to consider every kind of threat as being viable. Mitch, what’s your assessment there?”

Penelope remembered that Grandma Kate had once told her that Caleb had been a Texas Ranger. Retired he may be, but looking at him at the moment, he seemed to her to be every inch a cop.

“Of course.” Mitch nodded. “The honchos here are always at the top of any such list—not just because of their being seen by the public as being ultimately responsible for the operation of the company, but also because of their high visibility, being members of the Benedict family.”

“We’ve been down this road before,” Alex said. “We are not insensitive to the dangers inherent in our positions and our lifestyles.

Josh and I keep our eyes open and our wits about us. This is nothing new, and we refuse,
absolutely refuse
, to alter how we live our lives in the face of any terrorist threat—whether the source is well educated and mature, or not. And I would remind you that our stance is very much in line with family policy. Benedicts don’t give in to fearmongers. Period.”

Penelope smiled, because she thought that very well said. It was a policy she agreed with wholeheartedly. Anyone who gave in to the possibility of attack by changing their routines, or their habits, handed those who would threaten a victory right then and there.

Mitch carried on as if he’d not been interrupted. “The only other person who rates high on a would-be terrorist’s hit list would be the newest member to join our team—Ms. Primrose.”

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Penelope blinked, and a tremor of shock went through her. “
Me
?

Why on earth would I be a target? And I’ll remind you I haven’t joined your team, Mr. Grafton, I’m employed by—”

“Penelope could be a target?” Josh sat straighter, the insouciant expression on his face gone. In its place was a menacing scowl.

“Explain that,” Alex, also scowling, snapped, “right now!”

“An environmental consultant brought in, possibly—and this is public perception we’re talking about—to cover up the shameful record of the greedy and evil oil conglomerate—of course she’d be a target. Actually, she’s more likely to be the target than either of you two are.”

“You’ll have guards.” Josh shot to his feet, his finger pointing straight at her.

“I most certainly will not!” She got to her feet in response to his decree. How dare he think he could order her around!

“You most certainly will.” Alex, also, stood up. He looked over at Mr. Grafton. “I want your best people put on her, twenty-four seven.”

“We’ll break the armored car out of storage, and make sure you have a driver—”

She didn’t give Josh an opportunity to finish. “If you persist in this manner, I will tender my resignation to Mrs. Benedict. And you’ll be left to explain
that
to Grandma Kate.”

As threats went, that was a good one, Penelope reasoned.

“We’ll talk in private after this meeting,” Joshua said. “But you will be protected. Not negotiable.”

“Damn right we’ll talk,” Alex said. “And what he just said.” Alex pointed at Josh.

“Fine, I’ll come to your office,” she looked at Alex, “or yours,”

she said to Josh. “But I’m not changing my mind.”

Penelope sat down, well aware that her face was red in anger. She caught a couple of amazed gazes. As her temper cooled—always a very fast process—she wondered if she hadn’t been a bit too assertive.

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She snuck a glance at Caleb Benedict, who looked pleased as heck. Before she could reason that out, he continued.

“We’ve decided the best course of action is to slightly upgrade our security, both here and at Benedict Towers. We want department heads to instruct their personnel to be extra aware of their surroundings and to report
anything
that seems even a little off to Mr.

Grafton or a member of his team. Do not worry that you’re jumping at shadows. If it bothers you, report it.”

Amid a flurry of nodding heads, the meeting was adjourned.

“My office. Now.” Josh had stood and leaned over the table to deliver that edict.

“Fine.”

Both men headed out, not even stopping to talk to their father.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Andrew managed to say that without wincing overmuch. Penelope appreciated the courage it had taken him to make the offer.

“No, thanks. You carry on with compiling that list. Just leave those
honchos
to me.”

Once she got the two of them alone, she was definitely going to let them have it.

* * * *

Kate Benedict sat with her legs crossed at the knee. Her mother had tried to break her of that “hoyden-like” habit years before, insisting that a true lady only crossed her legs at the ankle. A smile crossed Kate’s lips. Oh, she’d given her mother more fits than most daughters, and never so much so as when she brought home two husbands instead of one.

She missed her Patrick and her Gerald every single day, despite that she’d been without them these past ten years. Some days, she felt every one of her ninety years. On those days, the certain knowledge
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that before too many more summers passed she’d be with her loves again gave her a unique kind of comfort and strength.

Not that she was a fatalist, she’d never been that. A woman couldn’t be married to two men and raise five children without a healthier than average dose of optimism.

She stayed young at heart, primarily by setting goals for herself.

Every day she had a reason to get up and get moving. Most of those goals lately had to do with seeing as much of the world as she could, but she still kept an eye on her family, and sometimes it was more than an eye she kept on them.