CardsNeverLie (25 page)

Melanie bit her lip. “Where do we stand?”

He shook his head and drank more coffee. “I bought us some
time. I reminded Jack that removing me didn’t guarantee him my job.”

“Good. I really didn’t want to perjure myself to your
grandfather. I was trying to figure out how I could still pin everything on
Jack without hurting you.”

“Don’t worry about it right now.”

He said the words with such finality that Melanie knew
without a doubt she needed to change the subject. Casting about for something
to say, Melanie remembered. “Tommy Joe showed up at my house last night.”

“Oh?”

“He’s totally nuts. He proposed to me.”

Rob set the mug down on the coffee table with a loud clank.
“He what?”

“He claimed he stole my ideas and gave them to his brother’s
company so he could get a better job to support me.”

Rob’s eyebrows rose so high that they disappeared under his
hair. “You have to be kidding.”

“No.”

“He point-blank said he stole your ideas.”

Melanie nodded.

Rob leaned forward and gave her a smack on the lips.
Melanie, too surprised to act with anything but her subconscious, opened her
mouth to him. For an instant, she felt his tongue touch hers but too soon, he
withdrew and stood.

“We’re going to get them,” Rob said. “You understand that?
Grandfather will kill Professional Massage’s hopes. When they hear this story,
they’ll be too embarrassed to show their faces. Dick Porter won’t be able to
touch you.”

He paced forward then whirled around. “Did you ever show
Tommy Joe your ideas?”

“No, but I know he went into my hotel room one night in
Vegas.” Her skin colored as she remembered. “That night, you know, at the
LeatherWorks’ booth,” she waved her arm feebly.

Rob fixed her with a smile. “You mean the night we first
kissed?”

Melanie sat up. How sweet that he remembered in this
fashion. “Yes, that night. I left my purse in the booth and Tommy Joe picked it
up.”

Rob rubbed his hands together. “Life is good, Melanie
Vanderpool. We’ve got our company back.”

“But Jack might still say something to your grandfather,”
Melanie protested. This seemed too easy.

Rob smiled. “Just you wait. I had an idea and it’s being
executed now. We’ll get him, Melanie, don’t worry.”

Chapter Seventeen

“So you see, Grandfather,” Rob said the next morning, seated
in a chair in front of his grandfather’s desk, “their integrity is shot.”

“I refuse to do business with scoundrels,” his grandfather
admitted shakily and took a sip from the crystal water glass his new nurse had
placed before him.

Though a beautiful September day reigned outside, here in
the mansion it felt like the end of a long season, with winter approaching
despite the humid heat of the room. The sight of John Black’s distinctly
grayish tongue as he licked water off his lips forced Rob to end his long
silence. He had to know the state of his grandfather’s health.

“Please, Grandfather, will you tell me what’s wrong?”

John Black fixed him with a beady stare. “What’s wrong is
I’m annoyed we are back to the beginning with this sale. We can’t accept either
offer that has been tendered, due to both companies being involved in this
scurrilous business!” The stress of raising his voice made him cough and he
took another sip.

“Sir, I’m worried about your health.” Rob took a deep breath
then said boldly, “Do I need to call your physician?”

“You won’t receive any information from him, you young
whippersnapper. Dr. Lane knows his place.”

Rob steeled his jaw. “I’m not leaving until you tell me. You
don’t look well.”

“I don’t need your worry.” John Black looked away.

Rob stood and for the first time in his life, stepped behind
his grandfather’s desk. “I’m your only family, sir. Please tell me what’s going
on.”

The two men looked directly into each other’s eyes for the
first time since Rob’s boyhood. He saw pain there but also the resolve and
strength Grandfather had built over a lifetime.

“I have cancer,” John Black said after a long moment. “Though
I plan to see one more Christmas, this summer is likely to be my last.”

“You’re terminal?” Rob asked, the words sticking in his
throat. He leaned against the desk. Somehow Jack must have found out. His
comments made sense now.

“According to the oncologist.” John Black shook his head. “I
can’t worry anymore about the business, Robert. The medication has fogged up my
mind a bit. For the first time.”

“You still seem sharp to me,” Rob reassured him. Too sharp
to let go easily, thank God. There must be time yet, time to find other
treatments, new doctors.

John Black chuckled. “Flattery will do you no good. You have
already won. Keep it, sell it. But I hate to see you throw your life away on
this low business. We all have our times of transition. You need to accept
that.”

Rob bent his head. His grandfather had admitted his problem,
that had to be enough for now. “Melanie has some new ideas. We may be able to
reinvent ourselves, get out of the product lines you object to.” That was, if
he would have the opportunity, if what he suspected about Jack was true.

“I’m glad.” He patted Rob’s hand.

“I’m sorry the sale won’t work out now. If we had sold the
business, we’d have more time together.”

“We have as much time as I have energy.” John Black smiled
ruefully. “Every day it seems a little harder to get out of bed.”

“I’ll fight with you,” Rob said fiercely. “You’re all I’ve
got.”

“Don’t make that mistake, Robert. Even a loner like me got
married and had a child.”

“Don’t count me out quite yet, sir.”

“There is a young lady?” his grandfather inquired. His eyes
seemed to brighten.

Rob remembered watching Melanie as she lay in his bed, angel
hair spread out on his pillow. “There might be.”

“Don’t take too long, son. I still might be able to see my
great-grandchild if you hurry.” The old man winked.

Rob swallowed back a grin. “I’ll do my best, sir. You take
care, okay? I’ve got some important business to handle at the office, but I’ll
be back for dinner.”

“It’s Friday night. Shouldn’t you take the lady somewhere?”

Rob shook his head. “No, sir. But I’ll give her a call. And
you’ll meet her soon.”

* * * * *

Melanie, clad in red jeans and a white mock turtleneck,
stepped resolutely into Rob’s office on Monday morning. Despite his upbeat mood
the last time they had met, the only word from him all weekend had been a terse
message on her voice mail requesting an eight a.m. meeting on Monday morning.

Rob, seated behind his desk, looked like a successful
executive in a navy suit and a white button-down shirt except for his neon palm
tree tie.

“Nice tie,” she commented.

“Dagmar gave it to me,” he said after a pause in which she
wondered whether he had even heard her. “She’s always had a sense of humor.”

Melanie wondered if he had worn his formal clothes for a
wake or a celebration. He seemed so cool. She parked herself in one of the two
chairs in front of his desk. “Your message said you spent the weekend with your
grandfather? Did he have any advice for us?”

Rob swallowed hard. He didn’t quite look her in the eye. “My
grandfather is dying.”

Melanie leapt off her chair. No wonder he hadn’t tried to
see her over the weekend. “Oh no, Rob.” She clasped her hands together, instead
of grabbing him in a hug. “What can I do? I’m so sorry.”

Rob stood up and crossed in front of the desk, the remote expression
still on his face. Deciding to take the risk, Melanie threw her arms around
him. He gave her a brief squeeze then released her and said softly, “Please sit
down.”

Melanie sat, hurting for him, wishing he wasn’t
compartmentalizing the sorrow he assuredly must be feeling. “I want to help in
some way, Rob. Anything.”

Rob nodded. “That’s just what I want to hear, Melanie. My
grandfather wants me out of the sex toy business.” His voice lost some of its
composure. “It’s his last wish regarding his business.”

“Of course.” But did they have that option right now? “We
have Jack to deal with first though. You can’t possibly be thinking of letting
him take over.”

“Absolutely not,” Rob said flatly. He grabbed the water
bottle on his desk and drank half of it down in a jerky series of motions.
“I’ve taken care of Jack.”

Melanie’s mouth dropped open. “The crisis is over? Just like
that?”

Rob dropped the bottle back to his desk. It teetered for a
second and Melanie held her breath, afraid it would spill onto the papers next
to it, but after a few seconds it righted itself. “Jack used to have a cocaine
addiction. His erratic behavior made me wonder if he had started using again.
On Saturday I had his office searched.”

“And?” Melanie prompted when he paused.

Rob set his mouth into a grim line. “Cocaine was found.”

“Wow,” Melanie murmured. “That gives you grounds to fire him
and it probably destroys his credibility.”

Rob didn’t quite smile, but his expression was satisfied
nonetheless. “He can’t touch you. Professional Massage has egg all over their
face because of the Tommy Joe situation. I’ve sent Jack to rehab, one of those
long, expensive programs. He won’t be back until everyone involved has long
since stop caring who did what. I’ve warned him that jail is not out of the
question if I hear from him ever again.”

Melanie felt like she’d gone from being thrown into the hot
water wash to being dropped into the cold.

“You solved all our problems without me,” she said,
deflated. “You’re so self-sufficient.” Just like Gerald. She ought to be
grateful for Rob’s competence and quick thinking, but they had just been
through a shared emergency and she had done nothing to help solve their
problems. Adrenaline had flown through her all weekend as she had repeatedly
called Rob’s home to no answer. She had been ready to fight for herself, for
Rob, for Brisa. And now this.

Rob stood. “I can’t solve everything, Melanie. You still
have to save the company.”

“I do?” Melanie didn’t believe it. Even if it was true and
coming from ultra-competent Rob she doubted it, saving the company would be
such an anticlimax. She wanted risks, she wanted rewards. Not this tepid
assignment-giving from her boss.

“Yes. Even if you can’t meet my deadline, I’m still going to
shut down the lines that Grandfather doesn’t approve of.” Rob sat down in the
chair next to her and leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees.
“You’ve got ten days to come up with an alternative product line.”

“Why ten days?” Melanie said, alarmed. Maybe this was a
challenge, if not the kind she sought.

“I report to the board and that’s their next meeting. You’ll
need to present your plan then.”

“Wow,” she said for the second time that morning. For a
moment, she had been dizzied by his sexy scent. But in a flash, she was back to
almost professional.

“I want to respect Grandfather’s wishes. I want to reinvent
LeatherWorks, like he did when he took over from his father. You’re the key to
that.”

She knew a management exit line when she heard one. “I’d
better start creating.” Melanie rose, nearly losing her balance as she stood.
There had been too many shocks for eight a.m. on a Monday. Rob grabbed her arm
and righted her.

“Are you okay?” As she nodded, Rob smiled for the first time
that day. “As long as you incorporate leather somehow, I don’t care what you
do. I’m going to look for more wholesale opportunities too. We’ve held back a
lot of raw material for our own use in the past, but I’m going to change our
business model starting today. One way or another, I’m keeping everyone employed.”

“Okay.”

Rob nodded and stood. “Get to work.”

Melanie walked out, bemused.

“Melanie?” Tim said. Melanie turned, realizing Tim had
already said her name once.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“What happened in there?” Tim came out from behind her desk.
When he came close enough for Melanie to hear, he said in a low voice, “Is he
okay?”

“Yes and no,” Melanie said. “The world is changing.”

Tim nodded. “I hear Jack’s out.”

“True enough,” Melanie said and touched Tim on the arm to
reassure him. “Rob gave me a mission and I’d better get to it.”

* * * * *

At least Melanie now knew her job was important. She knew a
professional break when she saw one.

She clasped her hands behind her and stretched her arms
behind her back as she looked over the list she had made the night before,
unable to sleep after Rob’s revelations. CD cases, backpacks, book covers,
purses, bodices, hats, bikinis, pants, hair ornaments, gloves.

How would they sell these products? A catalog? The web?
Melanie wrote down more questions for a focus group. She hated to tie the
company too tightly to fashion trends. A product could turn unpopular and it
might be thirty years before it came back into style.

She sighed, pushed away the pad of paper and laid her head
on her arms. It was so much easier to focus on the job instead of the man, who
had no time for her anyway. As she tilted to the side so she could breathe, she
noticed the new pack of tarot cards she had picked up over the weekend while
she drifted around town, wondering what Rob was doing. She sorted through them.
Tarot card cases? She added the idea to her list as she sat up. They could sell
the cards in the catalog too. But she needed a flagship product.

As she shuffled the cards, she started paying attention to
the figures on them, men, women, children and fantastical beasts. They all wore
beautiful costumes. She went through the deck more slowly. That hat could be
made of leather. That bodice. That jerkin too. What if LeatherWorks became a
costume company? She knew clothing.

Melanie smiled and put in a call to Ashok’s mother, who
managed a large costume warehouse in Renton. Her findings were exciting. The
company purchased their costumes from Europe but was always looking for local
vendors to support. They provided costumes for films, television, theater and
seasonal Halloween costume stores. She had a meeting with them tomorrow to
discuss their needs.

Melanie moved to her drawing board. As always, she worked
best under pressure. At six, having missed lunch, she called Domino’s and
ordered a pizza.

“What is going on here?” said a familiar voice forty minutes
later.

“Rob?” Melanie looked up, startled. She had just focused on
food for the first time that day. Visions of clothing danced before her eyes as
her head literally swam with product ideas and the scent of leather. She felt
like she had just finished the Olympic trials for product design.

He looked askance at the table piled high with catalogs,
printouts and samples. “I followed my nose down the hall. How’s it going?”

Melanie flipped open the cardboard container and pulled out
a slice, wishing he had offered a more romantic greeting. She knew he was
distracted by his grandfather’s illness but couldn’t help feeling dismissed.
“Want some?”

Rob reached into the container and grabbed a slice then
pulled an extra stool to the worktable. “Thanks.” He pushed aside a pile of
notepads and put his elbows on the table. After eating, he leaned against the
table and crossed his arms. “One of our best wholesale clients just doubled
their order.”

“Great.”

Rob nodded. She nodded too, unable to read him.

“Any successes on your end?” he asked, looking pointedly at
the mess.

“There is a sort of method to my piles. It’s only been
twenty-four hours,” Melanie pointed out.

“Yes, but time is of the essence,” he said in a managerial
voice.

His tone rubbed her the wrong way. “I have a meeting with a
potential customer for a new product line tomorrow,” Melanie reported, feeling
defensive.

“For what?”

“It’s a secret.” Revenge. Melanie took another bite of
pizza. “I need more time to finalize my presentation for the meeting. I won’t
be ready if you don’t leave me to work.”

“You’re dismissing me?” He sounded a bit affronted.