The Tycoon's Proposal

A mind reader, too. “Well...if the description fits.”

He laughed. “I assure you, we are related. And as much as I love my family, I’d rather limit my time with them. My family is perfectly great, but there are some...issues I’d rather not address right now and my brothers have a way of ferreting out anything I don’t want them to know.” A ghost of a smile whispered across Mac’s face.

For a moment, that smile made him look handsome, desirable. The kind of guy you’d sit down with at the end of a long day with a glass of wine and a view of the water. The kind of guy who would decorate the Christmas tree with you, then turn off all the lights in the house so you both could lie underneath it, bathed in the glow.

Good Lord. Now she was waxing romantic about the corporate raider who wanted to destroy her family’s pride and joy. She really needed to focus on something other than his quick smile. Because even a lion could smile—right before it devoured you whole.

She wanted to hate him. She really did. And a part of her sort of did. But the part that had been intrigued by that smile wondered if perhaps a beating heart lurked beneath the button-down shirt and leather jacket.

She perched on the edge of the desk. “You know, if you agree to my plan, people might start to call you nice and charming, too.”

He chuckled. “That’s your best reason for why I should help you? To change public perception?”

“That and earn a chunk of good karma points. Everyone needs those, even evil tycoons.” She grinned, softening her words.

His gaze locked on hers. “I’m not evil.”

She leaned in, closing the distance until she caught the scent of his cologne, something dark and mysterious like the man who wore it. “Then prove it.”

A long, hot moment passed between them, his stormy eyes unreadable. He got to his feet and put out his hand. “Okay, Miss Hillstrand, you have a deal.”

She took his hand. He had a warm, firm grip. It had been a long time since she had been touched by a man—clearly too long given the undeniable jolt of electricity she felt at the contact. “Great. We can start tomorrow morning, bright and early.”

“Why wait? Let’s grab something to eat and I’ll give you my CEO 101 talk.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” She said the words as a joke, but a part of her—a crazy part—hoped he’d say yes. That part was disappointed when he released her hand.

What was she thinking? Why would she want to date the man who wanted to dismantle her father’s dream? Okay, yes, Mac Barlow was handsome and had that smile—and it had been a long time since she’d been on a date—but still, he wanted her company, not her.

“Lesson number one—multitask as much as possible,” Mac said. “I wasn’t planning on leaving here and wasting time at a restaurant. Multitasking means eat at your desk, take meetings over lunch, skip breakfast to—”

“Skip breakfast? Now I know you’re insane.” She laughed. “If you want to get on my good side, bring me pancakes and bacon.”

“I’ll have to remember that.” He smiled again, and she wondered for one crazy second if he was remembering that because he was interested in her or because he was going to make his next offer at an IHOP. “So, do we have a deal? We start tonight. Order in some takeout, clear a space on one of these desks and see where it goes from there? With the company, of course.”

“Of course.” She paused a second. “Actually, if it’s okay with you, I’d love to meet anywhere but here. I’ve been in this office pretty much all weekend.” Outside her window the sun had begun its descent, dropping over the Stone Gap landscape like a blanket of gold. How long had it been since she’d been outside instead of chained to a desk all day? “It’d be great to get out and breathe some fresh air for a little while.”

“I don’t like to waste time, Savannah—”

Goodness, she liked the way her name rolled off his tongue. “Work can wait a bit. At least for a little while.” She reached for her purse and slung it over her shoulder. She had been here too many hours and had forgotten what was important. Maybe by being around the places her father loved, she’d find some of what had made him tick, what had made him such a great leader. She’d forgotten all that in these past few harried months, and in her gut Savannah knew that the key to turning things around started with getting back to the basics.

“Work never waits for me,” Mac said. “So I’d rather—”

“Listen, you’ve had a long day of travel already. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a quiet meal in a relaxing spot?” she said. “My father believed in enjoying life. Leaving at five, taking the weekends off and, most of all, working a little fun into your day. I’ve forgotten all that these past few months, and it’s time I did just a little of that. It’s called refilling the well.”

“I call that recess.” Mac shook his head. “This is business, not school, and regardless of how your father ran things, you should be here 24/7 until things turn around.”

“I agree with you. And I will be. But first I need to...recharge. My father did it almost every day, and it made him a great leader.” She took a step closer to Mac, until the blue in his eyes revealed little flecks of gold. Her heart fluttered and she had to force herself not to inhale another whiff of his tempting cologne. Business only. “Why don’t you come with me, let me show you what really mattered to Willie Jay Hillstrand. And where he found his best inspiration.”

“I assure you, I can learn all I need to know from the files right here.”

She shook her head, and felt a bittersweet smile stumble on her lips. “No you can’t. And I forgot for a while that I couldn’t, either.”

He assessed her for a long moment, those blue eyes unreadable, except for a small hint of amusement. “I don’t know. I have work to do, yes, I should eat, but—”

“Listen, I know this great place that makes fabulous steaks. It’s right on the water, and it’s quiet. We can eat, and promise not to talk business until dessert is over.”

Mac scoffed. “Not talk business? I don’t think I know any other topics of conversation.”

“And that, Mr. Barlow,” because she was afraid if she called him Mac, she might expose the way his touch had tripped her pulse, “is exactly why I can’t sell Hillstrand Solar to you right now.” Or ever, her mind whispered. “My father knew the importance of life outside the business, and that’s what made him so successful and made everyone who works here so happy. Unless you understand that, you can’t understand me or the company.” She bent down, scribbled an address on a piece of paper. “So if you want to help me, then meet me at the Sea Shanty in an hour.”

“I’d rather—”

She handed him the slip of paper. Firm, in control, a whole other Savannah than she normally was in these offices. Maybe if she drew on a little of the skills she used with stubborn subcontractors and late delivery trucks, she could handle the CEO chair that still felt as wrong as a pair of shoes two sizes too small. “That’s my deal, Barlow. Take it or leave it.”

Chapter Three (#ulink_90288833-adef-53b5-86d0-85b31b8ab911)

The meeting with Savannah Hillstrand lingered in Mac’s mind, along with the image of the strong, intriguing blonde. He’d agreed to her dinner meeting tonight, but only to talk more business, he told himself, not to get to know her more.

His first impressions of her had been wrong, something that doubled his interest, because if there was one thing Mac had little experience with, it was being wrong.

She was stronger than he’d expected, not at all scared or intimidated by his attempts to purchase her company. She had stood toe to toe with him, literally and figuratively, and challenged Mac to do the craziest thing...

Help her save Hillstrand Solar.

With that interesting little carrot at the end—that if it didn’t work, and she failed, he could still buy it from her. He could be a horrible person and give her bad advice, advice sure to bring Hillstrand Solar to ruin, but a part of Mac was...intrigued by the idea of helping her. Turning a company around instead of just flipping it to the next buyer could be an interesting twist to his usual practices. A challenge of sorts.

Either way, he intended to use the week to convince her that, in the end, selling was the best strategy. If he paid a little more in a month because of the help he gave her, so be it. She’d have the satisfaction of knowing she hadn’t ruined the company, and he’d still have that last piece to the bigger puzzle he was assembling.

He had an hour until he was supposed to meet Savannah, an hour he could spend working—or he could bite the bullet and see his family. Part of him just wanted to hole up in a coffee shop and spend the sixty minutes checking email on his laptop, but a twinge of guilt told him he hadn’t come all this way just to work. He had missed his brothers and mother something fierce, and it’d be nice to see them.

His father, not so much. Especially after that conversation in Atlanta with his Uncle Tank. His real name wasn’t Tank, of course, but he’d gotten the nickname because John Barlow was a barrel-chested guy with a larger-than-life personality, and the nickname had followed him from childhood on up. The younger brother to Bobby, Mac’s father, and the one who had always been the jokester, the prankster, but who also had gotten into more trouble than a loose pig at a county fair. When he’d first told Mac the story about Bobby’s misdeeds, Mac had dismissed it as yet another joke. Then a little digging had unearthed some truth—truth that redefined everything Mac thought he knew about his family.

And about his father.

Now that trouble was threatening to catch up with the Barlows if Mac didn’t find a way to head it off. But that meant talking to his father, something Mac had learned long ago to avoid doing.

You have another brother,Uncle Tank had said, explaining that he had known the boy for some time, staying in contact by posing as a friend to the family, something he’d done as a favor to Bobby. I talked to him and he said he wants to meet the rest of his family. Soon.

Meeting them meant exposing the truth. Exposing his father as a cheater. Despite the hard feelings between himself and his dad, he didn’t relish telling the others what Uncle Tank had told him. In fact, Mac had no idea how to say the words. How to confront the man he hadn’t talked to in almost a decade. Was there ever a good time for that kind of thing?

A moment later, Mac was in the driveway of his old childhood home. He stood there a moment, taking in the long open porch, the big front door still painted the same cranberry color as always. There were new annuals in the flower beds, and a new American flag hanging from the pole, but mostly the house had stayed unchanged, like a snapshot of the past. A part of Mac liked knowing it would be the same, year after year. He gave the old homestead a nod, then walked up the front steps and into the house. In an instant, his family poured into the hall like water overflowing a dam to see him.

He took off his helmet and grinned. Damn, it was good to see them. “I heard one of you is getting married, and I’m here to talk you out of it.”

Jack was the first to clap his older brother on the back. Still trim and fit from his time in the military, Jack had the shortest haircut of the three of them. “Sorry, Mac, you’re too late. I’m already in love. Might want to talk to the other one. He just got engaged five seconds ago.” He nodded toward Luke.

Luke was engaged? Of the three Barlow boys, Mac would have listed Luke as least likely to get married. He arched a brow in Luke’s direction, and his brother started grinning like a fool.