Bachelor CEO

“How can this be good?” Even after sleeping on his grandfather’s decision, Chase had woken up not liking it one bit. “He’s supposed to be retiring. He’s eighty today.”

“We know. We all sang happy birthday first thing this morning,” Chandy soothed.

“He’s not going to live forever,” Chase protested.

“And you have plenty of life left. He’s told you you’ll be CEO if you want. It’s only for one year,” Chris pointed out. His brother was the compromiser in the family, always looking for the silver lining.

“Grandpa never breaks a promise. Remember when I asked for horseback lessons? It took awhile but he didn’t forget,” Chandy said.

She’d been a toddler when their parents died, so Leroy was really the only parent she’d ever known. The youngest, Chandy had been raised like a little princess, with Leroy her hero. Because of that, Chase’s sister was blind to their grandfather’s flaws.

“This isn’t like that. He’s feeling guilty. He thinks he’s held me back from achieving my dreams, from doing the things you all did. He wants me to have a choice about being CEO, but that’s not necessary.”

“For some reason he thinks it is,” Chris said.

“But why now? I’m ready. I don’t need to go find myself.”

“Have you told him that?” Cecilia asked.

Chase dragged a hand through his hair. “Yes. But you know how stubborn he is once he’s made up his mind.”

“Well, it’s what Grandpa wants for you,” Chris replied pragmatically. He was smaller than his brother, topping out at five foot ten inches, but he had similar features. All the McDaniel children did. Blond hair was predominant and they all had blue eyes.

“Well, I want to be CEO. That’s why I need your help,” Chase tried to explain.

His siblings couldn’t understand, he suddenly realized. They’d moved out, moved elsewhere. They flew home for major holidays and family events. They phoned, e-mailed and sent cards.

Only Chase had remained in Chenille. He’d stepped into their father’s shoes and the life their father had loved. Chase had considered it an honor to have such a duty, and he’d thrived. He’d met every expectation, aside from finding a wife and having a bunch of kids. Chris had taken care of that, and Cecilia would next.

His sister reached out and put a slim hand on his arm. She’d always been tall and graceful, and even pregnant, her dancer’s body remained svelte and lean, but with a baby bump. “We can see that you’re upset. We’re not against you on this. We love you and we’ll see what we can do. We’ll all talk to him, although like you said, it probably won’t do any good. But we’ll try.”

“Thank you,” Chase said.

His sister nodded at the others. “We owe it to Chase.”

“Grandpa only wants to help,” Chandy insisted.

“Yes, but he may have misread the situation,” Cecilia replied.

She glanced through the glass dividing the porch from the great room, where her husband sat reading a book. “The guests should be arriving for the festivities sometime after four. I suggest we let Grandpa have his nap, and talk to him when he wakes up. Hopefully, he’ll spare us a minute. Walter is here already, and you know how thick those two are.”

“Once the party starts it will be absolutely impossible,” Chandy predicted.

“We’ll try to get to him before the guests arrive,” Cecilia said.

It was the best Chase could ask for. “Thanks.”

He looked out the porch windows. On the flat back lawn behind the house, the caterers had set up tents and tables, and were working on food preparation. Over ninety guests were expected.

Most of them would be staying at the nearest motel, or one of the resort cottages in the area. As for the two small guesthouses on the McDaniel estate, their grandmother’s sister was living in one for the entire summer, and this weekend Leroy’s good friend and business colleague, Walter Peters, would occupy the other. Walter had arrived earlier from Chicago, and like Leroy, was napping.

Chase had never seen the need for a siesta. He’d found that exercise always cleared his mind better than sleep.

His siblings disbanded, leaving the room and returning to other activities. Chase glanced at his watch. He had a few hours before the party started, and no desire to remain inside on such a gorgeous day.

He strode into his bedroom, stripped and donned his bike shorts and shirt. He grabbed his bike from the screened-in porch, put on his helmet and hit the rural highways. Traffic was light, and he inhaled deeply as the satisfying burn began in his legs.

During the summer he would ride at least twenty miles a day, usually doing seventy-five to a hundred miles one day each weekend. When he wasn’t coming to the lake to visit Leroy, Chase would fasten his bike to the rack on the back of his hybrid SUV, throw an overnight bag and a tent in the vehicle and head out for some new place. He was king of the campground.

The lake itself offered diversion, and Chase would often take the catamaran out. They had other watercraft as well, and maybe Sunday, once things died down, he and his siblings could go water-skiing.

Today, Chase decided to do a quick loop through the state park. He’d ride about two miles on Highway A on the return trip before turning onto the last few asphalt side roads leading back to the lodge.

He switched gears and purged his grandfather and the current debacle from his mind, tuning in to his body. For a couple hours, at least, he could be free from stress.

MIRANDA CHECKED THE CLOCK on her dashboard. Even though the birthday party didn’t start until four, and Walter had insisted most people wouldn’t show until at least five-thirty, she’d been told to arrive before three. She was going to be late.

She pulled over to the shoulder of Highway A. Once she’d found the barn and the road, she’d followed instructions and stayed on the blacktop for fifty miles. Unable to find her next turnoff, she’d driven back and forth over the same five-mile stretch at least three times. She’d finally realized that spotting the elusive road was hopeless, and had been parked for the last ten minutes trying to decide what to do.

Walter had insisted there would be some sort of sign announcing the turnoff to North Shore Drive, but so far she hadn’t seen one. In the ten years she’d worked for Walter, she’d never known him to be wrong, which made the mistake hers. She allowed herself a wistful smile. Surely he’d laugh at this foible. Walter had mentored her growth in the cutthroat world of business. He’d once told her that he’d never seen anyone work harder, which was one of the reasons he’d first noticed her and moved her into a fast-track position within the company. He’d said that as a young man he’d received a leg up from the former CEO, and felt honored to carry on the tradition.

He’d made Miranda responsible for millions of dollars and hundreds of employees. She’d proved her competency again and again.

Not that it helped her now. Venting her frustration, she pounded her hands on the steering wheel. She’d already tried her cell phone, but had no service in this neck of the woods.

She’d expected this part of Minnesota to be more like Iowa—miles and miles of open farmland. Instead she’d probably found the last old-growth pine forest in the country. So much for a “lone” pine.

She glanced in her mirror and saw a cyclist approaching. Maybe he could help. Cyclists weren’t usually muggers or rapists, right? And if the guy on the bike knew where he was going, maybe he could give her directions. Despite all the warnings to stay safely inside the vehicle with doors and windows locked, Miranda went with her gut, and stepped out of the car.

The cyclist drew to a stop next to her. He was a tall, fit man. His bike shirt clung to six-pack abs. His shoes hit the pavement with a click, and she tried not to stare at his legs. Because of his sunglasses, she couldn’t see his eyes—not that she was looking at his face, anyway.

She heard his voice, though—an incredulous demand: “What the hell are you doing here?”

CHASE HAD BEEN ALMOST back home when he’d seen the car on the side of the road. The ride had been invigorating and exactly what he needed. He’d get to the lodge, take a shower and dress for tonight’s party, all with time to spare.

He hadn’t thought much about the parked car until he’d drawn closer. Then he’d noticed the vehicle was silver, a sensible little four-door sedan…with Illinois plates.

He knew that car. He’d changed its tire. Twice in two days was more than a coincidence.

When its owner stepped from the car he’d enjoyed a glimpse of toned calf muscles under the red capri pants she wore. He’d braked, coming up next to her. And said the first thing that came to mind.

He could tell he’d surprised her, because she drew back slightly, the words of greeting dying on her lips. Man, those lips. They’d tortured him. Not as much as his grandfather’s announcement, but close enough to do some damage to his sleep.

“I’m starting to think you’re stalking me,” he said.

Her hypnotic green eyes widened farther. “Me? I don’t even know you.”

He reached up and removed his mirrored sunglasses. “We met yesterday.” Though he still didn’t know her name, he realized. “Remember?”