Chapter One
Emily Driscoll's face was going to crack if she kept the inane smile plastered on it a minute longer. She had to, of course. Smiling was the norm down here in Texas. Everybody was nice and polite and friendly even if they didn't really mean it. She supposed it was better than the reserved scowls of the north, although it meant she was never sure where she stood with people. She wasn't having any trouble knowing the thoughts of the man talking to her now, however. Mr. Travis' smile was a condescending one no matter which part of the country he sat his fat ass in. And when a man called a woman “sugar” wearing that kind of smile, well, there was no denying how little he thought of her. She held her tongue until he took a long enough pause in his pontification on how business really worked before jumping in.
“Mr. Travis,” she inserted in a sweet tone with a steely underline. “My company and I are aware of the long family history of your client's business. However, as important as longevity and reputation are, the core of the story lies in the financials.” She paused a beat before going in for the kill. “Yellow Rose's income statements show a business that is, shall we say, less than robust . My company is still interested in acquiring it, but the purchase price floated a few weeks ago cannot stand. I'm sure you will agree the new offer is fair given the circumstances.”
She waited as her words sank in. Travis's beady eyes narrowed as he stared back at her. The smile was gone. His client, Eric Horstmann, kept his gaze down on the stylized cowboy hat lying across his lap. She felt sorry for the man. He had tried hard to keep the company started by his grandfather alive and healthy. In the current economic climate, it wasn't surprising he hadn't succeeded. Now her job was to negotiate the best deal for her company. In business someone always won and someone always lost. Today she and her company had won. Her in-house lawyer, Bobby Weld, slouched in the chair next to her sporting a sympathetic expression, although she knew him well enough by now to know he was grinning gleefully inside. Like most business lawyers and business people she worked with, he had the instincts of a shark.
Emily sighed inwardly. It was late on Monday and she wanted to go home. The week was shaping up to be a long one. Then again, every week was a long one. Pushing back her chair, she stood up. Of course, the three men in the room followed suit. Sometimes the vestiges of chauvinism worked in her favor.
“Gentlemen, I suggest you take the week to think over my very generous offer. You can contact me next Monday morning with your answer and if it's a go, Bobby will get the documents out to you by Tuesday morning.” It would mean the following week would be particularly long, but what the hell? She had nothing better to do anyway. And wasn't that pathetic?
Travis gave curt agreement and filed out of the room with his client in tow. Bobby turned to her. “Emily, if I live to be a thousand, I will never understand how someone who looks like my maiden aunt can be such a hard-nosed negotiator.”
He had meant it as a compliment and Emily decided to take it as one even though she cringed inside. She didn't like looking so prim and proper and she didn't like having to play the killer all the time. It was her job, though. She had picked the career and pursued it with determination. Her reward was being an executive vice president in a large national company at the tender age of thirty-three. Her relocation to San Antonio had come with a big office, an even bigger raise and enormous responsibility. She was in charge of important business deals and playing with the big boys. Their rules insisted she be vicious and take no prisoners. She played her part extremely well. But it wore on her. Sometimes she longed for a chance to relax and let someone else take charge.
She buried the fantasy as she always
Emily Driscoll's face was going to crack if she kept the inane smile plastered on it a minute longer. She had to, of course. Smiling was the norm down here in Texas. Everybody was nice and polite and friendly even if they didn't really mean it. She supposed it was better than the reserved scowls of the north, although it meant she was never sure where she stood with people. She wasn't having any trouble knowing the thoughts of the man talking to her now, however. Mr. Travis' smile was a condescending one no matter which part of the country he sat his fat ass in. And when a man called a woman “sugar” wearing that kind of smile, well, there was no denying how little he thought of her. She held her tongue until he took a long enough pause in his pontification on how business really worked before jumping in.
“Mr. Travis,” she inserted in a sweet tone with a steely underline. “My company and I are aware of the long family history of your client's business. However, as important as longevity and reputation are, the core of the story lies in the financials.” She paused a beat before going in for the kill. “Yellow Rose's income statements show a business that is, shall we say, less than robust . My company is still interested in acquiring it, but the purchase price floated a few weeks ago cannot stand. I'm sure you will agree the new offer is fair given the circumstances.”
She waited as her words sank in. Travis's beady eyes narrowed as he stared back at her. The smile was gone. His client, Eric Horstmann, kept his gaze down on the stylized cowboy hat lying across his lap. She felt sorry for the man. He had tried hard to keep the company started by his grandfather alive and healthy. In the current economic climate, it wasn't surprising he hadn't succeeded. Now her job was to negotiate the best deal for her company. In business someone always won and someone always lost. Today she and her company had won. Her in-house lawyer, Bobby Weld, slouched in the chair next to her sporting a sympathetic expression, although she knew him well enough by now to know he was grinning gleefully inside. Like most business lawyers and business people she worked with, he had the instincts of a shark.
Emily sighed inwardly. It was late on Monday and she wanted to go home. The week was shaping up to be a long one. Then again, every week was a long one. Pushing back her chair, she stood up. Of course, the three men in the room followed suit. Sometimes the vestiges of chauvinism worked in her favor.
“Gentlemen, I suggest you take the week to think over my very generous offer. You can contact me next Monday morning with your answer and if it's a go, Bobby will get the documents out to you by Tuesday morning.” It would mean the following week would be particularly long, but what the hell? She had nothing better to do anyway. And wasn't that pathetic?
Travis gave curt agreement and filed out of the room with his client in tow. Bobby turned to her. “Emily, if I live to be a thousand, I will never understand how someone who looks like my maiden aunt can be such a hard-nosed negotiator.”
He had meant it as a compliment and Emily decided to take it as one even though she cringed inside. She didn't like looking so prim and proper and she didn't like having to play the killer all the time. It was her job, though. She had picked the career and pursued it with determination. Her reward was being an executive vice president in a large national company at the tender age of thirty-three. Her relocation to San Antonio had come with a big office, an even bigger raise and enormous responsibility. She was in charge of important business deals and playing with the big boys. Their rules insisted she be vicious and take no prisoners. She played her part extremely well. But it wore on her. Sometimes she longed for a chance to relax and let someone else take charge.
She buried the fantasy as she always
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