Jennifer Probst - Heart of Steel

As he escorted her into his sports car, she admitted Logan made a nice dinner companion. As long as she kept the subject firmly averted from her personal life, he’d be the perfect advisor to help her business expand.

He pulled up to her apartment building. “Why don’t we finish celebrating our deal over brandy?” he asked.

Chandler hesitated, then decided she’d be rude not to agree. “Sure, come on up.” They walked up the flight of stairs and Chandler slid the key in the lock. She flipped on the lights and waved toward the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll only be a moment.” She walked into the kitchen and kicked off her shoes.

Logan smiled at her sigh of relief before turning his attention to the room around him. He wandered around, pausing now and then to finger an object or study a painting. The cream walls, pale yellow carpet and off-white furniture helped set off a whirling array of colors and sights that attacked the senses. Cheerful, bright watercolors hung on the walls in a blinding intensity of images, they practically jumped out of their frames at him. They were so full of life.

Lush, green plants dangled above him as he checked the view out the window. A large ficus tree dominated one corner and half a dozen smaller plants he didn’t immediately recognize surrounded it. Some sort of Christmas looking pine tree and bunches of flowers claimed the other corner plus one entire wall. Chandler obviously had a green thumb with plants—he was curious to see how green she would make his bottom line.

Sitting among the foliage were three large marble sculptures struggling for attention. Each figure stretched in a different yoga position. He made a safe assumption they were not high art, but more of an emotional attachment. Books and magazines were tossed over the floor and furniture, and Logan caught the faint smell of incense which still hung in the air. He studied the sculptures in curiosity.

“One of my teachers gave me those.” She placed two snifters on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa. Logan sat next to her. “They were supposed to represent the new commitment I made to my life.”

“What commitment?”

Chandler smiled. “Truth in speech. Simplicity in manner. Firmness of mind. Three things to constantly strive for.”

“Have you succeeded?”

She took a sip of brandy. The heated liquid trickled down her throat and warmed her body. “I don’t think many people end up succeeding,” she said. “Peace is a constant journey. I know I’m happier and more satisfied than I’ve been in the past. Giving up the drive for wealth and power wasn’t as hard as I thought. I’ve gotten back so much.”

“Why does it have to be all or nothing? A person can still have money and reach spiritual height without giving up his dream.”

She shook her head. “I think the path sounds easier than it really is. Most people think they can have both, which may work for a while. But someone who is truly reaching for spiritual height will eventually have to choose between truth and lies. Truth must be chosen. When money’s involved, the decision becomes harder.”

Logan reached for his brandy and studied the amber liquid. “I disagree. If a person knows himself, he knows what path must be chosen. Money doesn’t corrupt, Chandler. People do.”

“Perhaps.” She settled back on the couch. “I think we talk too much about me. I want to know how the ‘man of steel’ received his nickname.”

He groaned. “If I ever get my hands on the journalist who wrote that article he will sorely regret it. I feel like I should wear a cape and be called Clark.”

Chandler laughed. “Oh, your reputation can’t be that bad,” she teased. “Your last coup with Larson Securities was very successful. Investors knock down your door to get a hint of your next target.” She swished the liquid around in her glass. “Now, I know you started off as a stockbroker and cultivated some high number of accounts, but you’ve expanded since then. You’re buying corporations outright now.”

He nodded. “I look for companies that are solid but in trouble. I buy them out, fix them up, and make more money. If I decide it’s not profitable, I just take the business apart and sell it off.”

“Like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman .”

Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “Yes, just like the movie.”

“In such a competitive market you’ve made quite a name for yourself.”

“I’ve managed.”

“You’ve more than managed. But you didn’t tell me how you got your nickname.”

A shadow passed over his face. His voice chilled when he finally spoke. “Does it matter?” She blinked in surprise. “No. I just thought we’d get to know one another. Since we’ll be working together, of course.”

“Of course.” A muscle worked in his jaw, but he seemed to want to answer her question. “When I first started L&G Brokerage, I needed to score some particular deals in order to keep afloat. Steele Investments was an up and coming company earning a lot of press. I decided if I was able to acquire them, I could easily double my company’s profits.”

The name skittered on the edge of her memory. “Wasn’t that a family owned company?”

“Yes. I researched all the members in the family. I learned their strengths and weaknesses, in their professional and private lives. It took me months, but I finally found the weak link.”

“What?”

“The younger brother was a gambler. Oh, they kept him tightly under wraps, but he started gambling with some of their investors money. His family couldn’t do too much since he owned a large chunk of stock, and of course, jail was out of the question. So, I hired a friend of mine to pose as an investor and meet with him personally.”

A cold chill raced down her spine. “You tempted him with money, didn’t you?”

He spoke with no emotion. “I gave him a million dollars to invest.”

She gasped. “You had that much capital available?” A slight smile touched his lips as he took a sip of brandy. “That was everything I had. I took a risk, and it payed off.”

“He took the money.”

Logan nodded. “Yes. His family found out too late. I offered them a deal. If they sold me the company, he’d stay out of jail. They signed the papers that week.”

She gripped the stem of her glass tighter. “Did the press ever find out?”

Logan shook his head. “They didn’t find out about the gambling. But after I signed the deal, the brother talked to a reporter and told him I practically threatened them to sign over the company. Said I was a cold-blooded monster who wouldn’t rest until I got what I wanted. The article stated no company was safe from me.”

“The ‘man of steel,’” she whispered.

He looked up. “With a heart to match.” His mouth set in a firm line. “I don’t look back and I don’t have regrets, Chandler. But I always try to protect the people close to me. Even at the expense of myself.”

His gaze met and held hers. She knew Logan Grant held secrets buried deep inside; secrets revealed only in brief flashes in his gun-metal eyes. The man lied, he held many regrets—but he wasn’t about to explain, and he wasn’t going to look back.

Her breath caught in her throat as an unexpected wave of protectiveness flooded her. Why did she have this sudden need to put her arms around him and offer comfort? Why wasn’t she horrified at his story, shocked at the way he manipulated another human being?

She didn’t know. She’d met many hungry executives before, and counted her own father among them, but there was a unique difference about the man beside her. She believed Logan when he said he’d be fiercely devoted to the people he loved.

“I believe you,” she said softly. “I don’t hold every businessman in a negative light, and I try not to make judgments on what I hear or read. People deserve a chance.”