Bachelor Boss

He picked up the phone and punched out a number with quick, hard jabs.

When he’d finished his conversation, he felt a stiffness in his neck, but he ignored it as he hit the intercom. “Madalyn, would you come in here, please?”

“Yes, sir?” she asked a moment later from his doorway.

“Sit down.”

She did as ordered and he was impressed at how well she hid her curiosity. Her demeanor was relaxed, her hands folded in apparent calmness, her expression open with a proper amount of question in her eyes.

He was going to go with his gut on this, for more than one reason, but he was depending on her experience as a high-level assistant in assuming she could maintain the poker face she’d displayed. If he was wrong, he might just kill two plans with one foul-up.

“Once again I’m springing something on you suddenly, but the negotiations on the file you just gave me have been moved up to tomorrow. On long sessions, such as this one will be, I usually take Mrs. Montague with me, as her note-taking skills are superb. Would you be willing, on this short notice, to fill in? I’d like to leave this afternoon, as things will start early in the morning. We’ll be back late tomorrow.”

She hesitated. Normally she couldn’t have even considered his request as she wouldn’t leave Erin with anyone overnight, but her mother was going to be there for at least another week.

“Is there a problem?” he prompted in the ensuing silence.

“I need to tell you something that I failed to mention yesterday. I have a child, and I’m a single parent.”

“Oh,” he said, not quite hiding a moment of surprise. “Of course, I understand then—”

“But it so happens that my mother is in town visiting, and if we’ll only be gone one night, I don’t see that it will be a problem. Where will we be going?”

Her matter-of-factness must have short-circuited his objections, for his tone became completely businesslike again.

“Mobile, Alabama. McConnally Machinery is the company. They machine ship propellers and shafts. I’ve been playing cat-and-mouse with the owner for a year now.”

He opened the folder and handed her a black-and-white photograph of a man in his fifties, his silver hair combed back off his forehead. He had an open, engaging face, his skin slightly battered by years spent in the salty air and elements.

“His name is Connar McConnally. When you meet him, don’t let his Southern, good-ol’-boy manners fool you. He likes to play the dumb hick, but this guy’s sharp. His company is relatively small, but he’s managed to keep a big chunk of the business on Mobile Bay all to himself. People whose very livelihoods depend on their boats being in the water will wait until this man—” Philip nodded toward the picture “—can get to their repairs. He started making noises about selling a year ago, but he won’t play ball yet.”

Madalyn studied the photograph and then handed it back across the desk. “What will I be doing for you there?”

“Be my eyes and ears. Do more than take notes. Watch people. Give me your impressions of their body language as well as their words.”

“Do you think he’s hiding something?”

Philip smiled. “Businessmen always have something to hide, but my interest lies in how big that something is. I think he’s just smart enough not to appear too eager, but I want to make sure before we toss the first pitch. My goal is to talk him into letting Ambercroft take over, but get him to stay on and run things. I’m going to try and sell him on the idea that all he really wants is some of the burden taken off his shoulders, but this way he keeps the benefits of a company he’s so proud of without the day-to-day worries.”