Elizabeth Duke - Takeover Engagement

It was more like a cluttered workroom than a display room, though there were glass display cases in evidence. Two men, one young, the other middle-aged, were bent over work benches, doing repair work or creating new pieces in the antique style for which Kowalsky was famous. A third man, an elderly, greyhaired man wearing thick bifocals, emerged from behind a large desk. There was no sign of David.

‘Mr Travers!’ The old man looked straight past her, his rather myopic gaze lighting up at the sight of the man behind her. ‘Good to see you again. Please…come in.’ Obviously Mr Travers was a good customer here. Seeking valuable baubles for his wife? Or his mistress? Or, if he wasn’t married, for one of his women? He didn’t look the kind of man who would be without a woman in his life. More likely a succession of women, judging by the cynical lines round his mouth.

‘I’m Joe Kowalsky.’ The old man finally turned to her, obviously thinking that she was with Mr Travers. Thinking she was one of his women, no doubt. A valuable customer-to-be. I guess I ought to feel flattered, Lucy mused with a wry twitch of her lip.

‘We’re not together,’ she said quickly. ‘My name is Lucy Farrell. I was to meet a friend of mine here. David Mortimer. But the lift got stuck and—’ She let her hand flutter in the air. ‘Has he gone, do you know?’

‘Oh, dear, I’m afraid so. He waited as long as he could, then said he had to go. He seemed convinced that you weren’t coming.’ The jeweller smiled sympathetically. ‘You must have taken the lift we’ve been having trouble with lately. I think it needs a complete overhaul. I’d avoid that one going down, if I were you.’

He squinted past her at the man standing silently behind. ‘Do have a look around, Mr Travers,’ he invited. ‘We have quite a few new pieces on display.’ It was plain he wasn’t about to let a valuable client like Mr Travers slip through his fingers. Plain too that he’d already dismissed Lucy as a potential client. Her man had gone.

But politeness forced him to turn back to her to ask, ‘Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Farrell?’

‘No…thank you, Mr Kowalsky.’ She backed away. ‘I’ll be on my way. I’ll take the other lift down…as you suggest.’ She swung round, intending to slip past her companion of the past half-hour with no more than a brief nod.

‘Hey…wait. I’ll come with you.’ Mr Travers paused only long enough to throw a last word in Joe Kowalsky’s direction, ‘I’ll come back later, Joe,’ before extending an arm and sweeping Lucy out through the door.

As it shut behind them she turned to face him, aware of a wild fluttering in her chest, a rosy warmth in her cheeks.

‘There’s no need to see me down. I’ll be all right.’ She heard the faint breathlessness in her voice and tried to steady it. ‘I’ll just make sure I take the other lift this time.’

‘Maybe I want you to see me down,’ he said, his mouth curving into a grin that on any other man would have been sheepish, but on this man seemed more droll than self-effacing.

She eyed him uncertainly. Maybe his phobia about lifts really did exist after all and he was trying to hide how bad it was. But was it really so bad that he wouldn’t step into a lift by himself? She had come across people like that, who avoided travelling alone in a lift. But this man…he appeared so coolly self-possessed, so strong-minded. Not the type to give in to a phobia…or to any kind of fear for that matter. No, he’d simply dreamed up his phobia to put her at ease…to prevent her dissolving into hysterics. She’d be crazy to fall for it again.

Unless…her stomach rolled over…unless it had just been an excuse to chat her up?

Dream on, Lucy, she told herself. Suave, high-flying city business types like this man—obviously well-known and successful too, judging by the way Joe Kowalsky had deferred to him—chose smooth, sophisticated women to match. They didn’t go around chasing after sports-mad suburban working girls. And he was probably married. ‘Never get involved with a married man.’ Charlotte had drummed that into her for as long as Lucy could remember. ‘They’ll use you…make all the promises in the world…and then dump you without turning a hair.’

As they waited for the lift her companion asked curiously, ‘Did you say David Mortimer?’

Startled, she glanced up at him. Surely he couldn’t know David? ‘That’s right.’

‘The David Mortimer who works for Maxi Board?’ There was a whimsical glint in his eye.

‘Yes!’ Her surprise was evident in her voice. ‘You know him?’ She wasn’t sure why she should be so surprised. David worked for a large, well-known company. It wasn’t so impossible that the two could have met somewhere. It was just that they seemed so…different. Worlds apart, she would have thought. David, the stolid, modest-living engineer who liked tinkering with old cars. And this man, so polished and urbane, the epitome of the jet-setting, super-successful city businessman.

The corner of his mouth slanted upwards. ‘He works for me.’

Now she did gape. ‘Works for you?’ she echoed stupidly.

‘Well, not directly under me. He’s an engineer at one of my plants—Maxi Board’s corrugated box plant at Oakleigh. It’s part of the Travers group of companies.’

Her jaw sagged. Travers! Oh, hell. Why on earth hadn’t she connected the name? ‘You’re Case Travers?’ David’s big boss!

‘Correct.’

She flicked her tongue over her lips, her mind casting back. Case Travers…the golden boy, as David had once referred to him. The lucky only son, who had recently taken over control of Maxi Board and the entire Travers group of packaging and paperboard companies following the tragic death of his father, Nicholas Travers, Maxi Board’s founder. David had told her all about it, and she’d read about the tragedy in the papers. Nicholas Travers and his wife Sophie had both been killed instantly when their Lear jet had come down in a violent storm over the Warrumbungle Ranges.

‘I’m sorry…I—I had no idea who you were,’ she faltered. ‘I…It must have been shocking for you…losing both your parents like that.’

Nicholas and Sophie Travers had been happily married, she recalled David telling her, for more than forty years. Which, for a workaholic like Nicholas Travers, who’d been away from home so much, building up his business empire, had struck her as pretty amazing. To be happily married for so long…It had almost brought tears to her eyes, tears of regret that her own parents’ marriage hadn’t been happier, hadn’t lasted the distance. She had never dreamed, right up until the day her mother and father had agreed to separate, that their marriage would ever fall apart.

‘Thank you…that’s kind of you.’ Case Travers nodded briefly. ‘After you,’ he said as their lift arrived. ‘Let’s keep our fingers.crossed, shall we?’ He tossed her a wink as they stepped in.

She gave a quick smile, still slightly stunned by the revelation that he was David’s el supremo—Maxi Board’s big boss. Despite David’s snide comments about sons with silver spoons in their mouths, he’d conceded that Case Travers had a brilliant mind, and impressive qualifications for the massive empire he’d inherited. He’d starred at university, then later amassed further qualifications and business experience overseas, before working his way up from the lowliest position in the family business until he was familiar with all aspects of the various Travers companies.

But—she eyed him critically—it was still inherited wealth. An inherited multinational business empire. He’d hardly started from nothing, or built up the business from scratch by his own endeavours. He’d probably been spoilt rotten all his life, had had everything he’d ever wanted. And he was probably insufferably selfish and conceited as a result—under that sexy, charismatic, ravishingly charming facade.