Significant Others (27 page)

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Authors: Marilyn Baron

Tags: #women's fiction, #Contemporary, #mainstream, #christmas

BOOK: Significant Others
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He looked so hopeful. How could I disappoint him? I thought of all my commitments, all the hard work ahead. A month was a lifetime to be away in the real estate business. So many things could change. So many sales lost. So many missed opportunities. And all of a sudden, just like that, I could see what was important. And it wasn’t the job or the money or even the merger. What was important was sitting right here next to me on the couch.

“Marc,” I whispered. “I’d love to go with you. We’ll make it work somehow.”

He gathered me into his arms and held me, like I was his most precious possession, and then he looked into my eyes and bent down to kiss me gently on the lips.

“Thank you, Honey,” he smiled. “Thank you.”

“Marc, could you take another look at the merger contract? We were so dazzled we couldn’t see beyond the offering price.”

“Are you currently being represented by a law firm?” Marc asked.

“Well, no, but maybe you could represent us through your firm. It would be a big piece of business.”

Marc took my hand.

“You trust me to handle this for you...after what I put you through?” Marc asked.

I hesitated, but answered honestly, “I do.”

“Somehow I doubt that Donny wants me on board,” Marc said dryly.

“Well, I’ll admit he was hesitant at first, but when I told him we were trying to work things out and that I love you, he—”

“You love me?” Marc asked hopefully.

I nodded.

“Oh, Honey, I know I’m still on trial with you, but I want us to work, and I’m going to be the kind of husband you can be proud of. I really do love you.” He embraced me and kissed me, the kind of kiss he used to give me when we first fell in love.

“I think it would help if you made an overture to Donny,” I suggested. “Meet him halfway. Possibly ask if you could go to a Braves game with him, let him give you a play-by-play.”

“You know I hate sports,” Marc said flatly.

“What I don’t know is why? What do you have against baseball?”

“Ron Rafferty,” Marc answered.

“Huh?”

“Your brother reminds me of Ron Rafferty.”

“Who is Ron Rafferty?”

“He was this kid I went to school with. Well, actually he was more than a kid. He looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger on steroids. He was the biggest jock and the biggest jerk and the biggest pain in my ass. He was also the biggest...” Marc hesitated.

“Bully?” I guessed.

“Sounds like you knew him,” Marc said.

“Every school has a Ron Rafferty, or a female version, who picks on your imperfections and insecurities and makes you feel bad about yourself,” I said. Having Donny Palladino as a brother had been a blessing for a girl whose hips were too wide and nose was too large. He saved me from a world of grief. If anyone even looked at me cross-eyed, they had to answer to my big brother.

“Ron Rafferty made sure I never fit in, that I never got picked for the team, any team,” Marc said. “Or if I did, I was always picked last. No one ever chose me. I was always too uncoordinated, and Ron never passed up an opportunity to remind me of my weaknesses. And if he did pick me for his team, it was just to trample all over me. I never got to play. I was always too small. So I had to be smarter. But it’s not something you ever forget.”

“I chose you,” I said quietly.

Marc pulled me into his arms and held on tight.

“I know, and that’s one of the reasons I love you. You could have had anyone, and you chose me. And I’m going to make you glad you did.”

Marc released me and asked, “Do you have a copy of the proposed contract with you?”

“Yes, it’s in my briefcase,” I said, and pulled out a copy for him to review.

Marc spent the next half hour reviewing the contract, making notes in the margins.

“You finished the contract already?”

“I’ve been over it with a fine tin fork,” Marc said.

“Toothed comb,” I replied.

“Huh?”

“It’s a fine-toothed comb.”

Marc was grinning. He was starting to sound more and more like my father.

“What are you smiling about?” I wanted to know.

“It’s a good thing you pulled me in on this before you signed.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing major, but I know I could get you more money, and more control, and a greater share of future profits, to start with,” Marc began, “if I have permission to negotiate for you.”

“You do,” I said. “I’ve already cleared it with my mother.”

“Okay, then, I’m going to make a few phone calls, call in some favors, do a little digging before I give Mr. Hammond Reddekker a call. Do you have his home number?”

“Yes, but are you really going to bother him on Christmas Day?”

“Why not? The contract deadline is today, so I think he would expect to be bothered,” Marc said. “Is your Fax set up?”

“Yes, it’s right over there,” I said. “Thank you for handling this. But one thing—since you’ll be replacing Trisha, I get to screen your new secretary.”

Marc laughed.

“She’ll have to be at least sixty-five, as flat as a board, and as blind as a bat so she can’t see how luscious her new boss looks. I’m going to have to keep a closer eye on you from now on, like Barbara does on Donny.”

“Please don’t even mention that woman’s name,” said Marc. “No more talk of divorce. I’m going to give you a reason to come home early,” Marc promised. “No more working late. And no more BlackBerry when you get home. You’ve formed more of an attachment to that thing than you have to me. You’re the only thing I want vibrating in our bedroom. And the only person I want you to keep in touch with 24/7 is your husband. From now on, we put each other first.”

As if on cue, my cell phone rang and I automatically picked it up.

“Honey Palladino—”

Marc grabbed the phone and finished off my sentence.

“Is unavailable at the moment. Please try your call again later—much later. And it’s Honey Bronstein!”

“Marc, did you just hang up on someone?”

“Yep. It’s Christmas. If I have to fight for us to have time together, I will.”

He put his arm around me, and I nestled my head against his shoulder.

“I really miss my little Honey Bunny,” he said, and I snuggled closer.

“You haven’t called me that since we first started dating,” I marveled.

“Well, that’s how I feel, like we’re starting over.”

After a while we walked out onto the patio and looked down at the Jesus tree. I saw my mother and Daniel underneath the tree, arms linked, looking like they never wanted to let each other go.

“Marc, what can we do about them?” I wondered. “They are so clearly meant for each other. And now some miracle has brought them back together. It would be a shame to lose something that precious. My mother thinks she needs to be tied to the business, but she’s given her life to it and now she deserves a life of her own. I understand that now.

“My God, when I think how close we all came to losing her last night!” I sighed. “If Daniel and Donny hadn’t thought to look outside under the tree, and if they hadn’t gotten to her in time, I don’t know what would have happened. We’re all so grateful to Daniel. He stayed with Mom all night. And he displayed the Palladino brand of persistence.

“And of course Daniel is now Donny’s hero all over again.” I smiled. “You can see how in love Daniel is with my mother. I want so much for things to work out for them. But I don’t see how they can.”

“Let me see what I can do,” Marc said. Then, after he had made and received several phone calls, he advised, “Sit back and watch the master at work.”

Marc dialed the phone and reached Hammond Reddekker on the first ring. I could only hear Marc’s side of the conversation. Marc’s reputation as a top-notch attorney was well deserved. He certainly didn’t sound like he lacked confidence.

“Yes, Mr. Reddekker, this is Marc Bronstein with Ludlam, Powell and Bronstein in Atlanta. I’m head of the firm’s M&A section. First, let me wish you a Merry Christmas. I’m representing Palladino Properties in the buyout.… Since today, as a matter of fact,” Marc answered. “My connection with the Palladinos? My wife is Honey Palladino Bronstein.… That’s right.… Yes, Honey Palladino is a very impressive woman. In fact, she and her brother have been running the firm for the past year, while Dee Dee Palladino has been busy establishing the Boca Raton branch of Palladino Properties to take advantage of the booming market in waterfront properties.… Yes, I’ve reviewed the contract. Your initial offer is very attractive. It’s a very good starting point.”

I waved my hands and made a face, imploring Marc to be cautious or Mr. Reddekker and his millions were going to walk away from the table. He was clearly ignoring my urgent signals.

He continued, “My clients were inclined to accept, but we’d like to make some minor adjustments to the language and the terms. If you’d be kind enough to give me your Fax number, I’ll shoot the revised contract right over with my recommended changes. I just wondered if you were aware that there are other offers on the table. And that we’ve been approached by an investment bank about an IPO that has some merit. We’re weighing all our options. We’d like to get this wrapped up before the end of the day.… Yes, you can reach me at this number for the rest of the day.… Great. Well, I’ll look forward to hearing from you, sir.”

Marc hung up the phone. I jumped on him and started pounding.

“Are you crazy? The offer he made us was more than generous. And the part about the Boca branch? We don’t have a Boca branch.”

“Well, then, I suggest you get busy picking up some waterfront listings. That way your mother can spend as much time as she wants here with Daniel.”

“And what you said about the other offers, that’s not true.”

“No, but it could be if I pursued it, and besides, Hammond Reddekker was only offering you a fraction of what your firm is worth, and he knows it. I’m just asking for more capital to help your company expand and negotiating a little more flexibility to ensure that your family will continue to have local control of the company’s day-to-day operations. Don’t worry. He’s not going to back away. I thought I was being extremely reasonable.”

“Marc Bronstein!”

“Honey, you said you trusted me. Do you?”

Now there was a question. I used to think I could trust my husband implicitly, but he’d let me down. What I realized was that, even though he’d lied to me, what I told him a few minutes ago was true. I still trusted him.

“Yes,” I answered, “but all this uncertainty is making me crazy. And what was that comment about Donny and me running the firm? My mother and father built this firm. My mother’s role in this company is essential.”

“I was just setting the stage,” Marc explained. “You said your mother doesn’t really want to work so hard anymore. She needs the flexibility to be able to control her own destiny, and so do you and your brother. The way I’m setting this deal up, you’ll be holding all the cards. Your mother can be as free as a bird or she can work as hard as she wants. This deal isn’t based on her commitment to stay on as CEO or in any other capacity for a certain number of years. And this contract will be ironclad. Reddekker will never be able to make a move without you and Donny. But it’s still your mother’s deal. She signs on the dotted line and she gets the proceeds of the deal.”

“I just hope he doesn’t decide this whole thing is not worth it,” I fretted. “We had so many plans.”

“Do I look worried?” Marc replied. “You have to have nerves of steel in this business. And you can’t be the first to blink. I thought I’d lost it, but I’m still on top of my game. Come on, that Fax machine is going to go off in no time with Reddekker’s counteroffer. And then we can finalize this deal and get on with our lives. In the meantime, I have an idea about how to work off some of this tension you’re feeling. All this wheeling and dealing is really getting my blood flowing. And as long as we’re in the bedroom...”

“Marc!”

“Get that trim little butt of yours over here, Honey Bunny,” Marc ordered.

About a half hour later, when I was lying in Marc’s arms and he was kissing my face, I thought I heard a noise. “Is that my BlackBerry?”

“It better not be,” Marc said, frowning. “It’s the Fax. Let me go get it.”

When he came back to bed, he was carrying a sheaf of loose papers and smiling smugly.

“Give me those,” I insisted.

He handed me the loose sheets.

“Oh, my God,” was all I could say after I’d skimmed the sections with changes. “He’s doubled his offer. And he’s agreed to all your terms. And look, he’s even agreed not to change our company name. Now my father’s name will become a household word. Thank you, Marc!”

“I knew that would mean a lot to you,” he answered, assuring me, “Reddekker wants this deal so bad he can taste it. Let me just give him a quick call and tell him to Fax over a clean copy so your mom can review and sign it. And I saved the best for last. Do you know what he said to me at the end of that last call? He said, ‘Bronstein, you drive a hard bargain. I could use a man with your talents. How would you like to come to work for me?’ When I told him I couldn’t leave Atlanta, he said he’d throw some business my way. Even having a fraction of Hammond Reddekker’s business would be a windfall for our firm.”

“Oh, Marc, that’s wonderful,” I said. “Now you won’t have to take the job in New York. This is a wonderful birthday/Hanukkah/Christmas present!” I wrapped my arms around my husband. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Oh, I can think of a way,” Marc said softly and took me into his arms. “Reddekker can wait. But I can’t.”

A word about the author...

Marilyn Baron is a public relations consultant in Atlanta. She's a PRO member of Romance Writers of America (RWA) and Georgia Romance Writers (GRW) and winner of the GRW 2009 Chapter Service Award.

She writes humorous women's fiction, romantic suspense, historical romance, and paranormal. She graduated from The University of Florida in Gainesville, Florida, with a Bachelor of Science degree in Journalism and a minor in Creative Writing.

Born in Miami, Florida, Marilyn lives in Roswell, Georgia, with her husband, and they have two daughters. She loves to travel. Her favorite place to visit is Italy, where she studied for six months in her junior year of college.

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