Cerella Sechrist - Gentle Persuasion

Ophelia swallowed, striving for the same cool demeanor her mother exhibited now. Paris. It had been her dream since she was a child, during the short years she and her mother had lived abroad in France with her father. Those had been the happiest times of her life, and it was the tragedy of her existence that they had been so fleeting. Her father, considerably older than her mother, had passed on, and Lillian Reid had returned to the States with her young daughter in tow to found the Reid Recruiting Agency. Ever since that time, Ophelia had wished for two things: to earn her mother’s everlasting approval by following in her footsteps and to expand the corporation’s success into the city where she had been happiest—Paris, France. Every step of her education and career had been aimed toward that one, solitary goal.

“Are you saying...if I do this, if I can convince Dane Montgomery to return to New York as the Creative Marketing Director of Towers International...you’ll help me open the Paris branch?”

Lillian gave a short nod. “It’s what you’ve always wanted, is it not? I’ve certainly listened to enough chatter from you about it.”

Lillian rotated her chair toward the expansive window overlooking the city. “Countless others have tried to bring Montgomery out of retirement. If you succeed in procuring him for Bianca Towers, a coup like that will assure your success in an overseas venture. Our client lists will triple as everyone scrambles to sign with the agency responsible for doing the impossible—bringing Dane Montgomery back into the game.”

Ophelia felt a tremble beginning deep within the center of her chest, radiating outward in a peak of adrenaline. Paris. Her dream city. Her mother was right; she had talked about this for a long time. It had been her one desire ever since she’d been old enough to understand her mother’s business. She nibbled her lip as she considered the possibilities.

The offer, however, appeared to have a limited response time, and her reply must have been taking too long.

“Of course, if you feel you’re not ready, not up to the task...I can send someone else, one of the senior recruiters...”

“No!”

This slip of decorum caused Lillian to glance at her.

“No,” Ophelia continued in a calmer voice. “I’m capable. You know that.”

Lillian nodded. “I agree. Because you see, Ophelia—” she pivoted the chair back in her daughter’s direction “—only you can truly appreciate what is at stake here. Only you, as my child, know the sacrifices that have been made, the labor that has been involved in making Reid Recruiting one of the top agencies in the field. Only you can understand.”

She paused, her gray eyes calculating as she looked at her daughter. “We cannot lose that. Do you understand me? We will not lose that.”

Lillian was right. Only Ophelia could appreciate the significance of the situation—she had to succeed at this. She had to keep Reid Recruiting on top. If she didn’t do it, they were lost. And she, along with her mother, would suffer the worst of the consequences.

Should she accomplish this, however, she would be rewarded accordingly—Paris, Director of European Operations, her mother’s stamp of approval. A dream fulfilled.

Ophelia had set her features with the same frosty determination her mother’s had exhibited. “Yes. I understand. You can count on me, Ms. Reid.”

Another rare, if somewhat deprecating, smile had been bestowed.

Now, some forty-eight hours later, and thousands of miles away from that tense scene, Ophelia could still feel the stab of her mother’s grim expression. Compelled by the memory, she slung her long legs over the bed’s edge and pulled herself from its soft foundation to head toward the bathroom.

Staring into the carved-wood-frame mirror, she ran her fingers over her features, picking out the items which possessed a similarity to Lillian Reid’s. There were only slight resemblances—very little, other than the hair color her mother now dyed—between the two. She could have been anyone’s daughter, could have belonged to anyone.

But her lips. Her mouth. This was the one characteristic linking them genetically. The soft pink lips tapering outward to a pointed edge. This was her inheritance.

She touched that feature now and willed her lips upward.

Her mother’s infrequent smile stared back at her in haunting reminder.

Only you can understand.

* * *

AFTER UNPACKING HER suitcase, Ophelia stood beneath the bathroom shower for long minutes and let the warmth of the spray ease away her tension. Changing into more casual clothes, she stretched out on the bed once more and logged on to the inn’s internet connection.

She spent the next few hours on her laptop in the Liliuokalani suite, clicking through websites and articles that mentioned Dane Montgomery. The research Holly had given her, along with her mother’s instructions and her own memory, provided the necessary framework to form a profile of Dane’s past and accomplishments. But Ophelia knew she needed to dig deeper if she was to achieve her goal.

The web was a wealth of information on the former advertising executive, highlighting awards, achievements, accolades and a sparkling career path that had sent Dane higher and higher into the echelons of the corporate world. And then, suddenly, articles dated three years previously exploded into her browser, announcing Dane’s retirement and exit from business. There were dozens of speculations on the reasons: everything from a love child with some celebrity or other to a debilitating disease eating him alive. It was all fodder for the gossips, especially when Dane’s official statement proved to be rather dull reasoning.

I plan to seek out new challenges in a different direction. While I value my time spent in this industry, I’m looking to find personal fulfillment at a less frenzied pace.

He was labeled everything from “certifiably insane” to “a groundbreaking genius.”

In the end, Ophelia sensed he simply felt tired—a feeling she could relate to after her years climbing the ladder at Reid Recruiting. But she had worked relentlessly to prove her value, and now, finally, she would be rewarded. If she could drag Dane back to the world he had left behind.

With a sigh, Ophelia logged off and closed her laptop. She reached for a pillow and curled herself around it, her mind cataloging everything she’d gleaned from her research. She mentally filed away each scrap of information on Dane as she continued to form and revise her plan to recruit him. Soon, jet lag and the six-hour time difference between Hawaii and New York caught up with her. The next thing she knew, she woke to darkness outside her window and the soft sound of island crickets filtering in on the midnight air.

Sitting up in the bed, she realized she’d slept away the rest of the afternoon and all of the evening. Annoyed with this waste of hours, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and decided to see if, by chance, anyone remained awake.

Easing open the door to her room, she glanced down the hall in both directions. A soft light illuminated the stairs, so Ophelia headed that way, her feet moving soundlessly across the carpet. She had just reached the bottom step and noted all the inn’s lights were off for the evening when she heard what sounded suspiciously like a motorcycle outside. She crept closer to the open windows. The echo of hushed dialogue and muted giggles drifted toward her as the motorcycle purred gently.

Leaning forward, she carefully parted two of the blinds’ slats and peered out. In the pale light spilling from the front porch, Ophelia saw a girl leaning against the solid form of a young man as he remained seated on the bike.

They were murmuring affectionately, their foreheads pressed together, and Ophelia felt a sudden tug of longing. She couldn’t remember Cole ever cradling her in such a way—not even in the early stages of their relationship four years ago. But then, he had never much liked public displays of affection. She suppressed a sigh and though she felt jealous of the young couple outside the inn, she experienced no such regret for ending things with Cole.