Lenora Worth - A Leap of Faith

Autumn looked from her father to the tall man standing with his hands in the pockets of his trousers, rocking back and forth on those ridiculous shoes. She turned back to Richard. “You mean, I won’t be in charge of things?”

“Not just yet,” Richard said, dread clear in his eyes. “It wouldn’t be fair to Campbell. I’ve already given him the job.”

Autumn waited while a sense of defeat settled over her system. “You hired a complete stranger to take over our family business, without even asking me how I’d feel about that?”

Richard nodded, then looked down at the woven rug. “Yep.”

Autumn took in that one word, then nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. “Well, I guess that makes sense. I mean, I did say all along I wanted to keep working in New York.”

“That’s the impression I had, honey,” Richard replied, clearly worried about her reaction. “I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come back if you weren’t ready.”

Suddenly, all the signs were there. Her father had been acting strangely over the last few months. Cryptic and tight-lipped. April had urged Autumn to talk to him, but Autumn had been too busy at work to worry overmuch about her father back in Texas. She’d just chalked it up to grief over losing his older brother. Now, Autumn had to wonder if April had known about this and was afraid to tell her. April had probably insisted to Richard he be the one to break the news. And he should have been the one.

“Why didn’t you at least mention this, Daddy?”

Richard shuffled and shrugged. “You just seemed so happy in New York, and you were making buckets of money. I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I knew you had that infernal ten-year plan you’ve always talked about. I didn’t want to mess with that, honey. I didn’t want you back here out of some sense of misguided duty.”

Autumn saw the sincerity in her father’s eyes. “Well, that’s awfully sweet of you, Daddy. But I’m afraid my ten-year plan has gone down the drain about halfway through.”

“I hate to hear that,” Richard said, “but hey, it all worked out for the best. You’re here now, and you can work at Maxwell Financial Group, just like I’ve always wanted.”

“You could have asked me about this sooner,” Autumn said, seeing the doubt and concern in Campbell’s eyes. “Whether I came back or not, I’m your daughter. I had a right to know. You didn’t even ask me how I’d feel about this. You didn’t even give me a chance to decide, either way.”

“I’m asking now,” Richard said. “Honey, I want you to be a part of the family business. I’ve always wanted that. You know that. And I have a plan myself—”

“Yeah, right,” Autumn said, using her father’s interrupting tactics to halt his next words. “Me working for him. That’s your plan. I don’t think that’s going to work.”

“Working with him,” Richard corrected. “I’ve got it all worked out. I can set things up so you’ll be an equal partner.”

“Equal partner?” Autumn pointed a finger at Campbell. “I’m your flesh and blood, Daddy. I’d say that gives me a little more than equal benefits over some interloper. I won’t have him bossing me around.”

Campbell stepped farther into the room. “Hey, I’m a good boss.” At her heated look, he quickly added, “Not that I’d ever boss you around. No, ma’am. I’m fun to work with and I’m fair. We’ll do just fine together.”

“Oh, I just reckon we would, but I’m afraid I’m not ready to have a partner,” Autumn replied. Heading for the door, she said, “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll just take my chances somewhere else.” She turned to leave the room, her eyes locking with Campbell’s. “I can’t take the job after all, Daddy. It would be rather awkward, coming back and having to deal with someone besides you at Maxwell Financial Group. I’m sorry we couldn’t work this out, but…I’ll find something else soon. I have lots of contacts all over the place. No need to worry about me.”

She gave Campbell Dupree one last look, then she shot out the door and down the hall before she could do something really embarrassing, like bursting into frustrated tears.

That had not gone very well.

Campbell pulled his sweet red classic ’57 Corvette into the attached open garage of the cottage-style house he’d rented when he’d first arrived in Atlanta, Texas, his mind still reeling from the open hostility and hurt Autumn Maxwell had shown him at her cousin’s wedding earlier today.

She didn’t want to work with him. How was he going to put a spin on that with her father? Richard had gone on and on all summer about the possibility of Autumn one day coming back to the family business. He’d even put that stipulation in Campbell’s contract. And Campbell had agreed, thinking it would probably come a foot of snow in August before he’d ever have to worry about that happening.

He glanced around. “It’s September,” he reminded himself. “And the temperature is in the seventies.”

Not a hint of snow among the tall pines, mushrooming oaks or aged hickory trees. The leaves on some of the trees were beginning to turn, but other than that, things looked perfectly clear.

Except the outlook on his future.

So what had happened today?

How had his life, the life he’d planned and mapped out the day he’d arrived here in this small town, suddenly become a confusing muddle?

Because of that lady with the pretty golden-brown eyes and beautiful auburn-streaked hair.

Autumn Maxwell. The boss’s daughter.

How could such a pretty but aloof woman get to him in such a short time? Campbell prided himself on being able to read women. And on being able to charm them. His Cajun roots didn’t allow for anything less.

Neither ability had worked on Autumn Maxwell. Now the burning question was, why? Or maybe, why not?

He’d thought about nothing else on the long ride back to Atlanta. The woman sure didn’t want to be anywhere near the likes of him. Or maybe, she just didn’t trust men, period. After all, she was a stuffy accountant type. Supposedly.

So are you, supposedly, he reminded himself. And maybe the woman was hostile because he’d taken over the company that would one day belong to her. Well, not so much taken over. Her father was still in charge. But Campbell was the wingman. So to speak.

He couldn’t blame her. If someone else had swooped in and started running a company his family had owned forever, he’d probably be mad as a hornet, too. But then, Campbell thought with a twist of bitterness, his father had lost their family business long before Campbell had been old enough even to work there. That still didn’t set well with Campbell, which was probably the reason he was now classified as a type A personality. A born workaholic, ruthless and too smart for his own good. That’s how some described him.

But those same people sure didn’t mind him investing their money and making them a killing in the stock market. Those people had probably never gone barefooted in the middle of winter or had to wear ratty, hand-me-down clothes from the secondhand store. They’d probably never had to beg for after-school jobs or work twelve-hour days in the soybean and sugarcane fields just to make ends meet.

Parking the car, Campbell turned off the engine and leaned back on the white leather headrest, closing his eyes to the fatigue that seemed to be pushing him down. The old days of stepping out of poverty, only to step on everyone else to get ahead, were long gone. He’d had to take a step back, reevaluate his tactics. He’d been fast approaching burnout down in New Orleans. It had only taken a couple of panic attacks to show Campbell that he needed to slow down, take things easy. And it had only taken one quiet, rainy evening sitting in an empty church somewhere in the Garden District to understand that God, not Campbell Dupree, was the one in charge.