Kiss Lonely Goodbye (6 page)

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Authors: Lynn Emery

BOOK: Kiss Lonely Goodbye
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“Russell has told me so much about the family. I feel like I know you already.” Aliyah wore the enthusiastic expression of a salesperson.

“Really?” Nicole smiled back at her, then looked to Russell for an explanation. “How nice.”

“Aliyah is a special, talented lady.” Russell stood closer to her. “She's got a great head for business.”

“I just let you bounce ideas off me. He's giving me way more credit than I deserve,” Aliyah said to Nicole.

Nicole glanced at the woman from head to toe. Aliyah wore a short royal blue skirt and white blouse. Her long, shapely legs probably turned male heads everywhere she
went. Her hair was pulled back into a thick braid that hung down her back about four inches.
I'll bet he's bouncing more than ideas with you, honey.

“I'm just telling the truth.” Russell grinned at her as though they were alone.

Aliyah lifted a shoulder in a humble gesture. She turned to Nicole. “I'm so sorry to keep Russell from important business. I'll get out of the way and let him keep running one of the most successful Black businesses in the Southwest.”

“Certainly. The rest of us will try to help him in our own small way.” Nicole beamed at her.

Aliyah's ingratiating smile slipped a notch, but she recovered quickly. “I hope we can get together for lunch sometime. Bye now.”

“Goodbye.” Nicole continued to gaze at her with a fixed smile on her face.

Russell shot a cold look at Nicole. He turned on the warmth again when he faced Aliyah. “I'll call you later.”

“I look forward to it.” Aliyah fluttered her eyelashes at him. She ignored Denise as she walked out.

Russell shot a chilly glance at Nicole seconds after Aliyah disappeared down the hall. “Is there something you need?”

“Yes, an explanation. Your office will do.” Nicole went ahead of him. She turned just as Russell closed the door. “The licensing commission called. Since you were in an ‘important meeting' with Aliyah, Cat put him through to me.”

“Frey is an obsessive-compulsive bureaucrat.” Russell strolled past her and sat down at his desk. “The uniforms are fine. Only one or two guards had a problem, and it's been fixed.”

“The company you use doesn't have that great a track record. I checked with a few people in the business. The fabric and workmanship are shoddy. I mean, the patches keep
falling off.” Nicole spoke in a patient tone, as though talking to a child.

“I saved us a lot of money. It doesn't make sense to get fancy clothes for lower-rung employees.” Russell sifted through papers as he spoke.

Nicole held onto her temper. “Russell, our guard license could be on the line over name patches. Spend the extra three dollars per outfit and change.”

“Even my father allowed me to make decisions on supplies,” Russell said. “I've spoken with Vickers Uniform and they've assured me—”

“Not good enough. Frey may be nitpicking, but he's right. Change to another company. I talked to Andre, and he suggests Cole's Guard Supplies.”

“You discussed this with a subordinate behind my back?” Russell said in a flat tone. His eyes narrowed to slits as he tilted his cobalt blue leather captain's chair back. “That's unacceptable. Father specified in the will that I have an important role in this company. My attorney says that includes making management decisions.”

“Good, then I'll make you vice president in charge of kitchen, bathroom, and janitorial supplies. You can exercise your managerial judgment on toilet tissue!” Nicole tossed back. She spun around and yanked the door open.

“You can't demote me!” Russell called out. When Nicole kept going, he stormed after her down the hall. “I'll call my attorney.”

“You'll be a vice president. You wanted management power, have at it.” Nicole rounded a corner, with Russell in pursuit.

“I'm not going to stand for this bull, Nicole. Not even Uncle Stanton will back you up when I tell him.” Russell grabbed her arm as they stood in front of the elevators.

“Good, tell him. In the meantime start brushing up on the fine points of brooms and mops.” Nicole pulled free of his grasp.

They stared at each other without moving. Nicole weighed the pleasure of feeling her fingers tighten around Russell's neck against doing jail time. She'd decided that stepping over his unconscious body was worth it when the elevators whisked open. Marcus and a stocky man with wispy blond hair stepped out.

“We're fully committed to—” Marcus broke off when he saw Nicole and Russell. He cleared his throat.

Nicole blinked back from the edge of assault. She forced a smile that hurt as Russell let go of her arm. “We'll talk about the uniforms later. Hello.”

“Mr. Kleinpeter, this is our new CEO, Nicole Benoit, and Russell Summers, vice president of development.” Marcus glanced a warning at them. “Mr. Kleinpeter is impressed with our coordination. I was just telling him teamwork makes the difference.”

“Of course it does. Even when we disagree, the exchange of ideas results in a better outcome,” Nicole said smoothly. She shook hands with Kleinpeter. “I'm glad you came by. Why don't we go to my office.”

“Of course.” Mr. Kleinpeter grinned, pleased at the invitation. “I know how busy a boss can be, though.”

“You're the reason we work so hard. We'll have something cool to drink. I'm still getting used to how humid Houston can be in the summer.” Nicole favored him with her best smile.

“A glass of cold soda would be nice.” Mr. Kleinpeter followed her happily.

Nicole kept up a stream of conversation with him for the
next fifteen minutes. She even managed to forget about making Russell's face turn blue. By the time she'd turned him over to Marcus again, Nicole had calmed down. A timid knock on her door interrupted the progress she was making plowing through state licensing regulations.

“Yeah,” Nicole answered.

Cat came in with a wary expression. “Uh, I finished these letters for you.”

“Thanks.” Nicole took them from her. “I'll proof them later.”

“You okay?”

Nicole breathed in and out once. “I will be. I'm getting tired of fighting battles.” She rested her head against the chair back.

“I hear ya.” Cat closed the door. “Guys have a hard time taking instructions from women, even when they know we're smarter. In fact, that just makes it worse.”

“Then they'll have to get over their caveman thinking.” Nicole rubbed her eyes. “I think they purposely make this print tiny to torture folks.”

“Take a break. You can't learn it all in one hour.” Cat went to the refrigerator and got out a bottle of apple juice. She put it down in front of Nicole. “Kick back and knock down a cold one.”

“Thanks,” Nicole said with a laugh. “Maybe I'll do just that.”

“Marcus is different. He's got integrity and works hard. I know he seems a little…”

“Stiff is the word you're reaching for, Cat,” Nicole quipped.

“He's got a big heart underneath that starched surface. Loosen him up. You can do it.” Cat nodded slowly.

“Umm, we'll see.” Nicole wondered just what it would take to make the “man of steel” unbend.

Marcus knocked, then opened the door. “I thought maybe we could talk.”

“I was about to leave. I'll finish updating the database of industry contacts.” Cat gave Nicole a pointed look. “You'll work on that project we talked about, right?”

Nicole squinted and waved her toward the door. “It's under consideration.”

When Cat closed the door behind her, Marcus walked in and folded his frame into the chair across from Nicole. “What project?”

“Getting some files organized. So, let's talk,” she said, deflecting him from the subject.

Curiosity flickered in his dark eyes, but he nodded. “You and Russell.”

“My dear cousin.” Nicole frowned.

“Being confrontational with Russell isn't the way to go. Believe me, I had my share of disputes with him the first year I worked here.” Marcus smoothed down his silk tie. “I found out that giving him a sense of importance goes a long way.”

“Really?” Nicole said dryly.

“Taking even the limited responsibility he now has will make things worse.”

“I'll think about it.” Nicole pressed her lips together as she stared at him steadily. She'd had her fill of men treating her like a dense kid who needed her nose wiped.

Marcus seemed not to notice. “He'll probably continue to question your authority and decisions,” he added with a lift of one shoulder.

“Thanks for giving me the benefit of your experience.” Nicole picked up her ink pen and made notes.

“Right.” Marcus smiled and stood. “I'll let you get back to your project.”

“Yes.” Nicole counted to ten as an aid to hold her tongue. Her father had no idea how badly she was being tested by these two men.

“By the way, the Reuben contract is up for renewal. Might be a problem with it.” Marcus delivered the news casually.

“Summers Security has provided security to his three jewelry stores since forever.” Nicole felt a thudding headache coming on.

“Yeah. Old Mr. Reuben was one of your uncle's first customers.” Marcus stood. “I'll let you know what happens.”

“Okay. What about Mr. Kleinpeter and his dry cleaning stores?” Nicole asked.

“He was noncommittal. Funny, but I was sure he was ready to hire us.”

“And you think it's my fault because I didn't control that scene with Russell.” Nicole clenched her teeth.

“I'm just saying consider a different approach with him in the future.” Marcus gave a crisp nod and walked toward the door.

Nicole simmered as she watched him. What galled her even more was the fact that she couldn't think of a comeback. Marcus seemed intent on pointing out her shortcomings. Indeed, Nicole was beginning to wonder if she was in over her head. The pile of regulations and study materials on her desk seemed to mock her. How could she learn it all, adjust to a new city away from her friends, and deal with resentful staff? The thudding behind her left eye spread to her temples. She rubbed her forehead.

“I'll be in my office if you need me.”

She glanced up to find Marcus staring at her. He blinked.
For a second Nicole imagined she saw a glimmer of empathy in his eyes. The glimmer, or whatever it was, died quickly, and the cool regard returned. Nicole took her hand down, sat straight, and smiled.

“Let's meet before you get back to Mr. Reuben. I want specifics on why he's unhappy.” Nicole dismissed him by returning to the reports on her desk.

“Yes,
ma'am
.”

When the door closed behind him, Nicole's brave posture wilted. The employees whose jobs she had decided to save didn't want her here, it seemed. Uncle Hosea's will included a clause that specified she had to prove she was competent or lose the business. Nicole hadn't cared about the company at first. She'd proven Uncle Hosea wrong before, and his challenge from the grave had pressed her buttons. Yet doubts crowded her attempts to be strong.

“What the hell am I doing here?” she muttered.

As though to answer her question, the phone rang. Nicole picked it up and went back to being a businesswoman. She would leave Summers Security on her own terms. So, the employees had just better get over themselves, especially Marcus Reed.

M
arcus smiled to himself as he headed to his office. He'd stepped off the elevator and into a battle zone. Nicole and Russell mixed like fire and gunpowder. One was sure to set off the other. All Marcus had to do was sit back. The way he saw it, he was in a win-win position. He could pick up the pieces either way. If Nicole stayed in charge, business would probably suffer because she really didn't know what she was doing. If Russell successfully challenged the will, there was no doubt Summers Security would go downhill fast. Then he would start his own company with Summers Security customers. He was sitting under a plum tree just waiting for the ripe fruit to fall in his lap. Perfect, he mused. Marcus waved to his secretary, Shelly, and went into his office.

As he sorted through mail, a disturbing image pricked at him. Nicole. Her lovely golden brown eyes had been clouded by apprehension. She must feel isolated, thrown into a situation she hadn't asked for or totally understood. Marcus took hold of himself. He blocked more pictures of
her smile, the way Nicole's hair swung when she shook her head stubbornly.

“I don't like sharp-tongued, spoiled sorority girls,” he reminded himself. He concentrated on that image to get rid of any lingering effects from her striking eyes.

“Marcus, we should discuss the future of this company,” Russell said as he barged in without knocking.

Shelly came in seconds later. She shot a sideways glance at Russell. “Don't forget your appointment with Mrs. Petersen.”

“It's okay. She cancelled,” Marcus said. He suppressed a smile when his secretary rolled her eyes to the ceiling and left. “What's up, Russell?”

“We've had our differences, but I think we both agree that Nicole should not be CEO.” Russell took a seat.

“Your father's decision was certainly unexpected,” Marcus said in a bland tone.

“That's an understatement.” Russell crossed one long leg over the other. “I think we should do something.”

“You're already doing something, contesting the will.” Marcus rocked his leather chair back gently.

“Yes, but in the short term I think we should present a united front. She's not qualified to run this company. My father had a lot of confidence in you. So much so that you were given quite a bit of responsibility.” Russell's mouth turned down.

“He could be difficult.” Marcus studied the younger version of Hosea. Russell had his father's nose, eyes, and stubbornness. Unfortunately he didn't have his father's brains or business acumen.

“I always thought his becoming a father rather late in life had something to do with it. After all, he was almost fifty when I was born.”

“Maybe so.” Marcus waited for him to go on.

Russell's brows drew together. “Father was a hard man to
please. He was even harder on his own children, especially me as his only son. But that's beside the point. One of us should have been named CEO.”

“Russell, you think that
you
should have been left the business,” Marcus replied.

“I've never made that a secret,” Russell said with a sniff. “But at least if you had been left the business I wouldn't worry about some incompetent destroying what
we
built.”

Marcus fought the urge to laugh. Russell hadn't built anything more than a pile of debt on the company balance sheets. Instead he cleared his throat. “Well, I—”

“We need to take action before Nicole damages Summers Security beyond repair.” Russell leaned forward with a grave expression.

“The will is quite clear, as even your attorney has pointed out by now,” Marcus replied. “Nicole is to run the business.”

“You know how father loved putting the devil in details. There are certain conditions.” Russell wore a sly half-smile.

“Really?” Marcus didn't have to pretend interest. He propped both elbows on his desk.

“If she's proven incompetent, an executive committee must remove her and appoint a new CEO.” Russell sat back with a satisfied expression. “I say we put new contracts on hold for six months. The company won't show a profit and she'll be held responsible. Most of the family is nervous about her anyway.”

Marcus was sure Russell wasn't telling him the whole truth. Not that it mattered. “Nicole signed one yesterday, and the other two are on her desk.”

“You should have checked with me first!” Russell complained. “We've got to stick together.”

“I wouldn't have agreed to put off three important accounts. I worked hard to get them, and my reputation is on
the line.” Marcus relaxed back in his chair. He wasn't surprised that Russell's scheme had holes in it.

Russell stood and looked down at him with distaste. “I would have made you chief operating officer, Marcus. Taking her side is a big mistake.”

“I'm here to do a job for Summers Security, not to get in the middle of your dispute over Mr. Summers's estate.” Marcus opened a folder on his desk. “I realize you're angry, but I can't help you.”

“Fine. Just don't be surprised when I end up with the company.” Russell walked out.

Once he was gone, Marcus sat back in deep thought. Now he had a hint about how Russell and Jolene planned to attack Nicole. Marcus wondered how he could get a look at the will. A knock on his office door interrupted his thoughts.

“Come in,” he said and wondered if he'd get anything more done today.

Shelly rushed in. “Mr. Phoung is shouting on line five. I can't make sense of anything he says.”

Nicole came in behind her. “Sorry to interrupt, but—”

“Just a minute. I'd better take this call. An unhappy client is on the phone.” Marcus held up one palm and picked up the receiver with his other hand.

“Unhappy ain't the half of it,” Shelly whispered to Nicole. She retreated, pulling the door shut as she left.

Nicole sat down. “Who is it?”

“David Phoung runs three midsized grocery stores in some rough neighborhoods. We installed cameras for him. One of our guards reviews the tapes twice a week,” Marcus explained quickly, then punched the button for line five. “Hi, David.”

Then all he could do was listen and take notes. Marcus had a hard time breaking in on the near hysterical stream of
words from the Vietnamese national. Mr. Phoung even lapsed into his native language as he sputtered in outrage.

“I can assure you we'll get to the bottom of this and find out what happened. Of course we'll cooperate with the police. Tell you what, I'll be over there in a few minutes.” Marcus spoke in an even tone to reassure him. “Right. Goodbye.”

“What happened?” Nicole sprang from her chair when Marcus stood.

“Mr. Phoung found that one of the cameras had been turned off. He's lost about two thousand dollars' worth of merchandise that he knows of so far. He's screaming that our employee was in on the theft.” Marcus grabbed his jacket from a small closet in his office.

“Oh crap,” Nicole blurted out.

“Come on.” Marcus waved a hand impatiently.

“No, uh, I'm sure you can deal with it.” Nicole backed up.

“Customers should know that the boss is willing to get her hands dirty. Shelly, we're on our way to the Pak-Sav-N-Go on Almeda,” Marcus replied as he pulled Nicole along.

Shelly handed Nicole a small steno pad and ink pen. “Okay. Here, you might need these.”

“Thanks,” Nicole said and hurried after Marcus.

During the drive over Nicole listened intently as Marcus gave her background on the Phoung contract. He had to admit he was impressed with her questions. Russell had underestimated her. Maybe he had as well.

“So, basically we did a security survey at his stores.” Nicole jotted notes.

“Right. Andre did the final report and I reviewed it. We recommended he change the layout. The aisles are angled with large mirrors positioned on the walls.”

“And we installed the cameras.”

“Like I said, we've got a security guard who reviews the
tapes. A determined thief will find a way to steal even with the best system.” Marcus muttered a curse when a red light caught them.

“Take it easy. Spreading us all over the pavement won't help,” Nicole said as she darted a glance at him.

“Relax, I haven't killed a passenger in a whole month,” he deadpanned.

“I feel better,” Nicole quipped. She frowned. “Phoung didn't implement all of your recommendations.”

“Right,” Marcus said and looked at her in surprise.

“In between getting my nails done and shopping I managed to actually read the files.” Nicole didn't look back at him but kept writing.

Marcus looked ahead just as the light changed. He drove on. “Phoung went with a cheaper camera model than we suggested. After three robberies, the police told him those pictures weren't helpful at all. Too fuzzy.”

Ten minutes later they arrived at a large store. The offices were on the third floor above it. Marcus opened the door for Nicole. She strode in with confidence, her head up. This woman acts like she's used to being in charge, he mused. Fine, she could do the talking. Her chance to deal with the crisis appeared within seconds. Tameka Grant, their employee, stormed toward them in her olive green uniform. She walked right past Nicole to Marcus.

Tameka stabbed a forefinger in Marcus's chest. “I've been tryin' to keep cool, but if he calls me a shoplifter one more time—”

“Take it easy, Tameka. Let us handle this,” Nicole said before he could speak. She blinked when the husky woman glared at her.

“All I'm sayin' is he better watch his mouth. I been in se
curity for six years and ain't nobody ever accused me of nothin'.”

“I understand you're upset,” Nicole said in a calm but firm tone. “If he doesn't have any evidence…”

Tameka turned sharply to face Nicole. “You tryin' to say I'm a suspect or somethin'?” she said loudly.

“Tameka, Ms. Benoit is—” Marcus began but stopped when Nicole raised a palm.

“I can handle this,” Nicole said in a tight voice.

Marcus cleared his throat and stepped back. He decided not to go far in case Nicole needed to be rescued. Tameka glowered at her with both hands on her wide hips. Marcus shook his head mentally. The sorority girl was about to learn a hard lesson.

“I don't know who you are or who you think I am, but lemme get you straight.” Tameka waved her finger in the air under Nicole's nose.

Nicole looked the angry woman in the eye. “As CEO of this company I expect all of our employees to stand up under pressure. We'll back you all the way, but making a scene isn't going to help.”

“Say what?” Tameka looked at Marcus.

“She's your new boss,” he said with a nod.

“I don't have to take this mess,” Tameka grumbled with less heat.

“Fine. Turn in your equipment. We're going to investigate no matter what,” Nicole replied.

“Well, I just don't think it's right the way he talked to me,” Tameka grumbled. Still, she lowered her hand.

“Take a few days off,” Nicole added when Tameka's hand came up again. “Jesse will be in touch with you.”

“Yeah, all right. I need to give my nerves a rest.” Tameka
glared at three store employees who stood watching the scene, then she stomped out of the store.

Marcus nodded to a door marked Employees Only. “This way. That was a smooth move, boss lady. I had to suspend her pending the results of an internal investigation anyway.”

“I know. I've been reading company policy and the state regs.” Nicole fell in step beside him as they went down a hallway.

“When did you have time to get your nails done?” Marcus punched the button to summon the elevator.

Nicole glanced at her fingernails with a frown. “I haven't lately, damn it. Another reason I don't feel like putting up with back talk from anybody these days.”

“Life is so hard,” Marcus murmured. They got on the elevator.

She shot a heated glance at him but said nothing. They rode up to the third floor in silence. When they got off the elevator, a wiry man hurried down the long hall toward them. David Phoung wore a starched white Tommy Hilfiger shirt tucked into khaki pants. He stood a good two inches shorter than Nicole. Still, the size of his temper made up for his small stature. He started shouting when he was still fifteen feet away.

“I want something done!” he blurted out. “That woman, your employee.” Mr. Phoung pointed at them. “She's responsible!”

“I'm getting real tired of fingers in my face,” Nicole whispered. Nevertheless, her expression remained composed. “Hello, Mr. Phoung. I'm Nicole Benoit, the—”

“I want something done, Mr. Reed. I can't stay in business losing valuable merchandise. My assistant manager tells me there may have been thefts for at least three months.” Mr.
Phoung's words came out rapid fire. He took a deep breath and put both hands on his slender hips. “Well?”

“What kind of inventory controls do you have in place? Have you questioned your employees?” Nicole assumed an air of quiet efficiency. She took the notepad from a pocket in her green blazer.

“Well, I-I don't know.” Mr. Phoung blinked at her behind his black frame eyeglasses.

Another man, slightly taller than Mr. Phoung, emerged from an office nearby. “Excuse me. I'm Phan Tran, Mr. Phoung's assistant. I deal with the managers of all three stores.”

“Hello. We'll need as much information as you can give. Right, Marcus?” Nicole glanced at him.

Marcus nodded. “Right. Hi, Phan. Why don't we pull up data on inventory reports and employee background checks.”

Nicole turned to Mr. Phoung again. “You've called the police?”

“Of course I called the police. I've been robbed!” Mr. Phoung took a deep breath in preparation for another rant.

“Then it's even more important to give them details quickly. The faster they can start their investigation the better.”

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