The Chosen Heir (The Bolles Dynasty Book 3) (14 page)

“I don’t see selling or reorganizing a business unit as a failure. Failure would be doing what Patrick Breen has been doing. Continuing on the same path yet expecting different results.”

She thought about the families that relied on the company. “I want to see Breen succeed and keep manufacturing in Ireland.”

He took a sip of wine. “I’m not surprised. You are Irish and knowledgeable about the industry. It was these reasons that you were chosen for the role.”

What if she did fail? What if no matter what she tried the economic realities were against her? A shocking realization struck her——she was getting into a similar situation as the one her father had embarked on all of those years ago. She would need to be less sentimental and more practical if she hoped to make the right decisions. She didn’t want to let employees go, but she also wouldn’t try to save a sinking ship. She had to be smarter than that.

“You are putting me in an impossible situation.”

“You will have the full cooperation and expertise of myself and the management group. These odds are the reason that there is a huge profit to be made.”

He could be autocratic and quick at making a decision. What if he was wrong? “What if we don’t agree?”

“I’m in charge. You need to remember that. I’ll give you a ton of freedom, but ultimately you will need to adhere to my direction.”

She would not just follow along blindly. “What if you are wrong?”

Her question was met with a brief silence. Then he leaned forward and said, “You’ll be tasked with carrying out an order that is incorrect or flawed.”

He might be playful in nature, but he was also authoritarian and overbearing.

She was beginning to realize her toughest work might be with him and not Patrick Breen. “How collaborative are you?”

He met her gaze. “I’m not. Collaboration doesn’t have a place in leadership. I’m open to ideas and willing to give my team the freedom to make mistakes, but ultimately I’m going to set the rules.”

They were going to have issues with one another. She could be collaborative but needed to be in charge of her responsibilities. She had no desire to carry out dictates from someone offsite who thought they knew best. She wanted his help; she wanted him to be part of the process.

“Do you want to order?”

She nodded. Glancing over the menu, she selected trout with a dill sauce.
 

The waiter appeared and took her order, then William’s order for filet mignon and Brussels sprouts.

He refilled their wineglasses and silently disappeared.
 

She tasted the delicious wine. “How do you see this unfolding with Breen?”

William sat back. “We need to give a briefing to the management team and decide on a path forward. It could be we change the company name and replace Patrick Breen. The brainstorming stage is unscripted, but once a plan is put in place, then you will be expected to make that happen and report back frequently.”

Bridget smoothed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “What if the team takes the wrong approach? How much collective experience in the fashion world do your executives have?”

“You may not like a decision, but only if there is a compelling reason to reconsider will that happen.”

***

He watched her process his comments. She was proving to be a challenge. Bridget had the intelligence and depth to run a successful company, but she was also headstrong and would need to learn to take direction. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t care about Breen; he was far more interested in her.

“Your father seems to be settling in at the golf course. According to my manager, he spends the better part of each day helping out.”

She nodded. “He is happier than I’ve seen him in a long while.”

William’s steak was cooked to perfection, but he barely tasted it. Instead, he watched her. A memory surfaced of the first time he set eyes on her. He had felt something catch deep in his chest. He didn’t believe in love at first sight or even an overly emotional reaction to a woman. He had learned early on that women could be vindictive and self-centered. His own mother was famous for presenting a certain image to the world yet making their home life a living hell. He had missed his father terribly during those periods, but somehow Oliver would always return.

“I don’t think you have ever mentioned your mother.” He watched a veil come down over her emotions.

“It’s been nearly a dozen years since her death, but it hasn’t gotten easier. I still miss her.”

“Tell me about her.”
 

“I’d rather not talk about her.”

Why was she reluctant to talk about her mother? “Why? It’s been long enough. I’ve found that speaking about my father now is helpful. It allows me to put some of the memories in context.”

It allowed him to honor his father’s legacy. He was able to discuss the good things that Oliver had done and not just the troubling behaviors. His father had been an immensely good guy; he’d been concerned about those less fortunate and often did charitable acts in secret.

She glanced down at her plate. “I’ve no desire to justify my memories.”

He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. “You were young when she died. Certainly an adult lens would help you put things in perspective.”

Bridget placed her fork down. “What are you referring to? What do I need to put in perspective?”

“The night we met, you accused my father of wreaking havoc on your family. You said that a comment he made to your father carried so much weight that your father acted on it without regard to anyone else. Were you speaking about your mother?” Why did he need to push her on this issue? Did her earlier accusations touch him in some way? Was it possible that his father had helped to destroy her family, even in some unknowing way?

“My mother loved my father and would have supported anything he wanted to do, even if it was the wrong thing.” Why was it so hard for her to see her mother as a living, breathing person who may have made flawed decisions?

William waved the waiter away. “Did she think that he shouldn’t invest in The Donne?”

Bridget shook her head. “I don’t know. She didn’t share her thoughts on the subject. Instead she kept working harder at menial jobs to compensate for his dreams.”

“Maybe she shared those dreams?”

“I doubt it. She was the practical one. The one who always picked up the pieces when everything fell apart.”

“Maybe she chose that role for herself?”

***

Why was he questioning her mother’s role? Why did he care?

“Did your mother play a part in your father’s deceptions?” She was being unkind and unfair but couldn’t stop herself.

William held his hands up. “Yes, she did. By being emotionally unavailable to him. So he sought connections elsewhere. He was responsible for his actions ultimately, but she had a part to play.”

His openness surprised her. Why would he choose to admit his parents’ shortcomings to her? Maybe by admitting the issues, he could distance himself?

“What type of relationship do you have with your mother?”

William ran a hand through his hair. “It is at times difficult and at times fine. She expects too much from me and so I distance myself. There are other times that I enjoy her company.”

He was lucky to have a mother in this world. “I’ve seen pictures of her in the media. She is a very beautiful woman.”

William signaled for the check and the server immediately cleared the table before bringing the check.

The restaurant was bustling. Bridget glanced around and realized she had enjoyed herself and had even let her guard down a slight bit.

Stepping onto the cobblestone, William pulled her closer and said, “I’d like you to come back home with me this evening.”

She could see desire building in his gaze. He was giving her a choice. Did she want to act on their growing attraction or keep herself in a firmly established professional role?

“I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

He pulled her away from the crowded sidewalk and into an ally near the building. Reaching forward, he lightly touched her face before capturing her mouth in a playful kiss. His body shielded her from the street, and the only thing she could see was him. Her eyes closed and she enjoyed the feel of his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth.
 

Reaching out, she grasped the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him closer. His warmth enveloped her and she was lost. William placed a hand on the stone building behind her and used his other hand to hold her head steady and he explored her mouth fully.

Gasping for breath, she pulled back slightly before seeking his mouth again. She could feel desire building in her core and she wanted to go home with him, but her rational mind kept throwing up obstacles. She knew to lose herself to him would only complicate matters for both of them.

“Bridget, come home with me.”

“It would complicate things.”

He placed both hands on either side of her head and looked into her eyes. “Complications can be good.”

She didn’t want to turn him down. What if she stepped out of the impossible standards she set for herself and just gave in to desire this once? Would it be such a bad thing? Could they maintain a professional distance?

“I’d want you to keep it a secret.”

He physically retreated from her. “No. If we embark on an affair then it has to be out in the open.”

She touched his arm. “I don’t want others to know that we are crossing business and personal boundaries.”

He faced her fully. “You are over thinking this. It’s not anyone else’s place to have an opinion.”

She wanted him to take her in his arms again, but was it worth the risk? Would others judge her?

“I can’t, William. I’m sorry.”

He guided her back to the sports car without saying anything. She was making a mistake, but she couldn’t risk her professional life. She needed the respect of others if she was going to make a difference at Breen. So why did she feel so lost? She wanted a physical relationship with William. It had been almost two years since her last relationship ended badly. Her boyfriend at the time accused her of being married to her career. But she needed the security of knowing that she could provide for herself and help her father. She couldn’t go back to the feeling of powerlessness that poverty had instilled in her. If it hadn’t been for her mother’s sister, she would have never had a chance in the fashion industry.

He drove through the city streets without saying a word until he pulled off onto a dark side street adjacent to a park.
 

“Why are we here?”

William turned off the engine and opened the first few buttons on his shirt. “A compromise of sorts. A few stolen kisses at night can remain our secret.”

Her blood heated watching him. He removed his suit jacket and tossed it in the back seat. Excitement skittered over her skin. What did he intend to do?

William turned and ran a hand up her leg until he stopped at her dress. “I’ve spent the entire dinner thinking about your stockings, love.”

“Why?” Women wore stockings, why was he so intrigued?

“You are incredibly sexy and I wanted to see what you have on under your dress.”

She wanted him to continue his exploration, but he was waiting for her. What did he want from her?

The small enclosed space and leather seats wouldn’t allow her to move closer to him. What did he imagine happening beyond a few kisses? She wanted more from him. A heightened awareness settled over her.

“I want you to run your fingers along my length.” His rough voice sounded loud to her ears.
 

“Bridget.” He lightly touched the edge of her dress and her senses went haywire. She wanted him to explore her body fully.

She reached forward and touched his rigid shaft through his pants. She squeezed hard and heard his indrawn breath.

He moved his hand from her dress and held her chin as he kissed her properly. She tried to move closer to him, but the gearshift stopped her. Why hadn’t she gone home with him? They would be in a proper bed and not trading kisses in this confined space.