She didn’t have to turn to feel a wave of
anger wash over her. She couldn’t block him in a vote, but he wouldn’t be happy
if she took a position against him, especially if she sided with other board
members who might disagree with some of his plans. He wouldn’t risk that.
“You’ve got a month, if you last that long,”
he said. “However, the board has asked for an audit, which will be ongoing.
Donatella will oversee that.”
“Just make sure Donatella’s out of my office
before I arrive.”
She turned and walked out without bothering
to say good-bye.
Chapter Nineteen
Wide-eyed and breathless, Ron burst into Emily’s
office, caught the door just before it slammed in his haste to close it, and
skidded to a halt. “She’s here!”
Emily set aside her iPad and stared at him.
“Who’s here?”
He canted his head in the direction of
Henrietta’s corner office. “Derian Winfield.”
“Derian?” Emily shot to her feet. “Here?”
“In the flesh.” Ron eyed her suspiciously. “I
think you’ve been keeping secrets.”
“No, I haven’t.” Feeling her blush deepen,
Emily sat slowly and hoped her excitement wasn’t evident. Never had she had
such a spontaneous thrill just from hearing someone’s name. “I had no idea she
was coming.”
That was certainly an understatement. The
last time they’d talked, Derian hadn’t said anything about visiting the agency,
but then, why would Emily expect her to? They were becoming friends, at least
she felt that way, but hardly intimates, and Derian had no reason to discuss
business matters with her. Derian was a Winfield, after all, and as much as she
resisted accepting the role of heir apparent, that’s what she was. For an
instant, Emily felt a twinge of hurt, and then brushed it impatiently aside.
Business was business, and if Derian was here, that was certainly none of her
concern. What mattered was the agency.
“She is Henrietta’s niece, after all,” Emily
said offhandedly, “so it shouldn’t be a surprise she’s here.”
“That’s not what you said a few days ago. No
interest in the business, I think you said. Plus, why do you look as if it’s
Christmas morning, and you’ve got a big present under the tree?”
“I do not.”
“With a giant red bow and—”
“Stop it.” Emily had to laugh.
Ron pulled a chair closer to her desk,
plopped into it, and settled in for what looked like a long campaign. “It’s
time for you to spill it, honey.”
“There’s absolutely nothing—”
He wagged a finger. “When just the thought of
someone makes your eyes light up the way yours just did, you are honor bound to
have to tell your friends.”