Megan Kelly - Marrying the Boss

“Spit it out, man.” Mark nearly shook the lawyer. He didn’t trust that furtive glance Todd had given him. Something was up.

“We should really discuss this in my office,” Benton said. “Perhaps we could just ride over there—”

“I need to get back to the luncheon,” Mark said.

“And I have no intention of going anywhere with you two.”

This startled Mark, as well as Benton, judging by the open mouth of the other man.

“I don’t intend to be rude,” Leanne said a little more quietly, “but I also need to go comfort my mother.” She glared at Mark.

He hadn’t meant to be insensitive. He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to ruffle her feathers, but she was incensed. Her first statement about not going anywhere with them rang truer than this half excuse of comforting her mother—even though the poor woman did need consoling, Mark thought.

“Just give her the highlights,” Mark said.

Benton sighed, then nodded. “I suppose as you’re the principles involved, I could do that here. I want you to know I did try to dissuade him, Mark.” He cleared his throat. “Lionel has set you up in competition against each other.”

Mark looked at Leanne. Her furrowed brow told him she shared his confusion. “What competition?”

“There are three tasks you must complete. Whichever of you completes two tasks first, to the satisfaction of the board of directors, wins.”

Mark drew a breath. He had a long association with the Lion’s manipulation tactics. This wouldn’t be good. “Just what do we win?”

Benton straightened. “The winner gets all of Lionel’s stock in the Collins Company and thereby his position as CEO.”

Mark clenched his jaw. “That bastard.”

“Do you mind?” Leanne said. “I really dislike that term.”

He blinked, reminded of her presence. When he caught her meaning, he said, “Sorry. I meant, that son of a bitch.”

She inclined her head. “Thank you.”

He couldn’t look away from her. His competition. For CEO. Dear God, he couldn’t believe it. He’d been training for that position since his father had died ten years before, training with the Lion himself. Now it could all be snatched away from him at the whim of a controlling old bas—son of a bitch.

For years, he’d tried to prove himself worthy of the Collins name. He’d thought his position as successor secure, as he was the only Collins left, other than his mother.

Until Leanne Fairbanks appeared, Lionel’s blood relative. Blood had mattered to Lionel, which was why Mark had tried so hard to make the old man forget his adoption. He’d modeled himself after his father and Lionel. Working all hours, he’d not only burned the midnight oil, but often the 3:00 a.m. oil as well. No matter what successes he achieved, he knew the Lion regarded him as not-quite-a-Collins. He swallowed back his sense of betrayal.

“I don’t suppose there’s been some mistake,” Mark said without much hope.

“No,” Benton said. “Lionel stated very clearly his intentions—”

Leanne opened her mouth, but before a sound could emerge, Mark cut in. “There must be a loophole.”

“The will is airtight, I assure you,” Benton replied.

Leanne made a sound, but Mark turned his back on her. Think. There had to be a solution. This was nuts.

He snapped his fingers and turned back to Benton.

“I’ll contest it,” he said. “I’ll declare the old Lion non compos mentis. It’s insane, giving the business to an outsider. The place will be run into the ground inside a week. No judge in the world would consider this the design of a rational man.”

“Your grandfather was in no way impaired when he devised the will,” Benton said. “I tried to talk him out of it, Mark, but it was his money, his company and his prerogative on how to dispose of it.”

“Dispose of it is right. He might as well have sold the place for scrap as to hand it over to…” His voice trailed off, and he turned to face Leanne.

“Yes?” She smiled. “You were saying?”

He ducked his head for a moment, then met her gaze. “I apologize, Ms. Fairbanks. I was on the verge of being impolite, but I’m sure you agree how crazy the idea is.”

“Do I?”

Mark stared at her. She blinked down at her hands, which she’d gripped together. When she raised her head again, he couldn’t read her expression.

He found his voice. “I shouldn’t have to buy the company I’ve worked for my whole life. It should be mine.”

“Why?” Leanne asked.

“Because—Did you ask why? You, who I didn’t even know existed until twenty minutes ago?”

She raised her chin. “Yes.”

“Well, then, I’ll tell you, Ms. Fairbanks. I’ve lived with the company since I was a baby. I learned the inner workings of every aspect of each department. I sat at the dinner table with the Lion, celebrated holidays with him, worked at his side. I’m the heir apparent.”

Leanne smirked. “Apparently not.”

Mark’s jaw tightened. He’d walked right into that one, but couldn’t retract his words. The heir apparent, for God’s sakes. He didn’t talk like that. No one talked like that.

He swallowed down his embarrassment and reined in his anger. It wasn’t her fault the Lion had betrayed him.

Dammit. The company should be his, without any question. Without any qualification or restriction. Without any idiotic contest.

“Oh, my God,” he groaned. “It’s that TV show.”

Benton nodded. “Your grandfather always admired the Donald. He drew up this will after the show first aired. I advised against it.”

Mark ran a hand over his face. He couldn’t believe he’d have to earn his place all over again.

Leanne cleared her throat.

Mark narrowed his eyes at her. A pink tinge from the cool April air nearly covered the pale freckles on her cheeks. He couldn’t be distracted by her. She embodied his new competition. No, don’t think about her body. Still, he gave her slender form a once-over, noting the snug waist below nicely rounded breasts.

“If I’m following you,” Leanne said, cutting short his inspection, “Lionel’s will is based on a reality TV show?”

Benton nodded. “The Apprentice. Young business people compete to win a job with Donald Trump.”

“Then,” Mark interrupted, “we can definitely declare the Lion out of his mind.”

“He was mentally competent,” Benton stated again.

“Nevertheless, I plan to contest the will. The Collins Company will not go to a stranger.” He paused, feeling a moment’s regret for Leanne’s feelings, but determined all the same. “I won’t lose control of the company to anyone, family or not.”

“IT WAS dreadful,” Leanne told her mom later in her mother’s living room, having taken a cab rather than accept a ride from Mark Collins. She swirled her lemonade. She’d angled herself on the couch facing her mother, who was wedged against the opposite corner. They’d sat like this for years, whether to gossip or have a heartfelt conversation. “He was so angry, so hurt. He wouldn’t let me say anything. I meant to say I didn’t want the damned company, that I didn’t want anything from Lionel.” Nothing for myself, she thought. Recognition of her mother’s loyalty and some money so her mother could retire would have been nice.

Leanne sighed. She didn’t want the company, but she wouldn’t be dismissed as worthless. She’d been overlooked and neglected by the Collins family her entire life. To have her ability to run the company compared to scrapping the place had irritated her.

“Oh, dear,” her mom said when she didn’t continue. “What did you do?”

Leanne shook her head, feeling idiotic. “Exactly what you’re afraid of, I’m sure. I let my feelings run away with me. My mouth ran with them, charging ahead without my permission.”