Mary Anne Wilson - Winning Sara's Heart

“Let’s hope he’s not married,” Sara muttered as bitterness rose in her throat.

“Oh, no, he’s not married. He’s been tied to Heather McCain, the daughter of a big political family in the state, for a while. You know the type, tall, pretty, rich? Maybe she’ll bid on him at the ball.”

“Bid on him?”

Mary leaned forward and tugged a sheet out of the stack. “A bachelor auction.” She tapped the paper with her fingertip. “You know, pay for spending the evening with an eligible man? He’s agreed to do it, and we’re hoping he brings in a lot of money.”

Sara picked up the paper and saw a minimum bid of two thousand dollars next to the man’s name. “Well, I hope he’s worth whatever he brings in,” she said.

“From what I’ve heard, he is,” Mary said with a grin.

“I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT,” Zane Holden, one of the two CEOs at LynTech, said as he sat forward and eyed E. J. on the far side of the huge conference table. “After all this work, it had better be everything Jack and Matt think it can be. We’re here on good faith, all of us, and I hope that’s the way you feel.”

E. J. sat very still, waiting, knowing that whatever he said probably wouldn’t fully satisfy Zane Holden. His mind was blurring from long hours of discussions that seemed to be going in circles. Between Ray’s surprises and the hardball negotiations in this room, he was tired, but now he was back in the fray and in it for the duration. He had never been a patient man and he wanted this deal nailed down today or tomorrow.

Finally he said, “Of course, that’s a given. We’re all here on good faith.”

Jackson Ford, sitting by Zane, had seemed vaguely distracted today, but even so, when he spoke, he hit the mark. “Okay,” he said, his dark eyes narrowing as he ran his fingers through his deep-brown hair. “Let’s just agree that we all want what’s best and that we want this settled as quickly as possible. The figures are there. The rules haven’t changed.” He looked right at E. J. “The ball’s in your court, so what are you going to do?”

Martin shifted in his seat next to E. J., but didn’t say a thing. He wouldn’t until he was asked to, even though E. J. knew he was itching to get in the middle of the fray. “I need a break,” he said, and stood.

“Good idea,” Zane said, and stood, too. The others started to get to their feet, and Rita, a woman who seemed to be the right arm to more than one of the executives at LynTech, closed her notebook and said, “Drinks are over there,” motioning to a built-in bar by the windows.

As she turned to speak to Zane, E. J. saw Martin head for the bar and pour himself a drink. E. J. flexed his shoulders, then left his paperwork on the polished conference table. He saw Ford say something quietly to Zane before he ducked out, then Robert Lewis, a spry-looking man, probably in his sixties, in a neat navy suit that was in direct contrast to his almost white hair, came around the table to where E.J was standing. Lewis, the founder of LynTech, was there as an adviser.

“I’m pleased that you showed up here today in person, instead of sending a hired hand.” He glanced at Martin, who was by the bar talking to one of Lyn-Tech’s accountants. “No offense to anyone, but it’s always better to do business directly, rather than going through too many people.”

E. J. looked back at Robert. “I’m glad you’re here, too. You had the original vision for this company and I like the way you did business, being up front about everything.”

Robert nodded. “In that vein, I’m interested in why you’re selling off a piece of your company.”

Damn, he liked this guy. No games, no oblique comments. Too bad Ray wasn’t as straightforward. “I’m doing it because I want to, sir. My life’s too complicated and this will simplify it.”

“An excellent reason,” he murmured.

E. J. inclined his head slightly. “I thought so.” He glanced around, then said, “I need to stretch my legs. I’ll be back in…” He looked at his watch. “Half an hour.”

Robert said, “Make it an hour. We all need a break.”

E. J. nodded, then turned to find Martin next to him again. “We’ve got an hour.”

“Good, we can go over—”

“No, I should have said, I have an hour. I need to get some fresh air and think.”

“But, if you—”

“Martin, relax. I’ll be back. Give me at least half an hour, then we’ll talk before this gets back in gear.”

Someone came up behind him and touched his shoulder. He turned to find a woman he hadn’t seen before. She was a very delicate-looking blonde, very pregnant and pale, but her smile was radiant. “Mr. Sommers. I’m Lindsey Holden. Zane’s wife?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’m going home now, but I wanted to thank you so much for offering your estate for our ball. It was beyond generous, and it’s greatly appreciated.”

He felt a bit embarrassed by her effusive thanks. “No problem,” he said, a real lie, but he wasn’t going to tell her about Ray’s manipulations. “I hope the event raises a lot of money.”

“I’m sure it will,” she said. “I heard you say you were going to take a break, and I was thinking, since you have a few minutes, why don’t you go down to the center on the main floor and just take a look at it? The party planner is due in this morning, and you could talk to her or to Mary Garner.”

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but he didn’t have the heart to say that to her. “Maybe, if I have time.”

She gave him a weak smile. “Good, good.”

Zane was there, putting an arm around his wife. “She’ll talk your ear off about the center,” he said with an indulgent smile. “But now she needs to get home and rest.”

He nodded to E. J., then with his arm around his wife, Zane took Lindsey out of the conference room. Before anyone else could grab his attention, E. J. left, leaving his jacket in the room. He went out into the hallway, glanced in both directions, then started for the elevators. Once inside the car, he rode down to the main floor and intended to go directly outside and walk for a while.

But when the door opened, he saw a group of children coming into the building, maybe fifteen of them, chattering and laughing, with two women riding herd on them. He hesitated, then turned to his right, heading for a hallway that he hoped led to a rear exit and away from the kids. Despite what he’d told Lindsey Holden, he had no intention of being around kids during this break.

He found a back door marked Parking Garage, pushed it back and felt it hit something with a solid thud. He heard a gasp, the sound of things dropping, then he eased the door back cautiously. This time it swung open freely, and he was looking out at a girl in jeans and a pink T-shirt, going down on her knees on the cement floor. Blond hair fell around her shoulders, hiding her face, and pieces of colored paper, crumpled and stained with paint, seemed to be everywhere, spilling out of a torn green trash bag.

He hurried toward her, reached for her upper arm and tried to help her back to her feet. “Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was out here.”

Then she was on her feet, turning, pushing pale blond hair off her face with her free hand, and her aquamarine eyes met his as her husky voice uttered, “You?”

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