Page 8 of Landry
Tipping her face toward him, she tried for a pleading smile.
"Nope." He chuckled at her obvious ploy. "I'm immune to your charms, darling."
"You're mean." She said with a pout. "Why are you sitting out here in the dark?"
"I happen to like the view, and I was working."
She glanced at the thick folder, her eyes veering to his face. "Are you all right?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked mildly, ignoring the cramping feeling inside his chest.
Leaning her cheek against his, she sighed. "You can do this, darling."
"I have to," he responded grimly.
Chapter 3
Kady-Ann stared at the fastidious looking man seated across from her in the large conference room and wondered, really wondered, if she was dreaming.
Phillip Atlas polished his gold-rimmed designer glasses slowly and carefully as if it were the most important thing he had to do. In fact, he was avoiding looking at her, and they both knew it.
“You're not serious.”
“As the proverbial heart attack.” He coughed a little self-consciously and carefully refolded the monogrammed handkerchief before tucking it into the top pocket of his ash-gray jacket. He was slender, to the point of being thin, and was always dressed in the very heights of fashion. He had inherited the airline from his ailing father along with several other lucrative businesses. His idea of making a contribution was to show up for board meetings and try to pay attention to what was being discussed.
“You know the business had been limping along-”
“I don't know anything.” Kady gritted. The urge to reach across her desk and wrap her hands around his scrawny neck was so strong, she had to physically restrain herself. “I was never privy to the accounts, which was kept from me, even though I happento be the managing director. And now you're sitting there telling me that you're selling the airlines. After all the work I've put into making this place solvent over the years.”
“And we appreciate it. I appreciate all you've done.” His voice was cultured, due to the stellar private school education he had received. His entire body was pampered. She doubted that the man seated across from her had ever done any lifting in his life. Rumor had it that he was gay, but he could not even decide on that. He had been coupled with both men and women in the past. He had never been married, so the Atlas line would die with him, which she realized was a blessing.
“Who?”
The bite in her voice had him straightening his thin shoulders. He had wanted to avoid this very confrontation, but the board had reminded him that it was his responsibility to alert her to the impending takeover. He had a hot date with his manicurist after discovering to his horror that he had a hanging cuticle. He shuddered to even think about his left hand looking less than immaculate.
“Now, my dear-” he patted the air with his left hand before remembering the damaged cuticle. Dropping his hand, he folded it in his lap and pursed his lips. “You know that's privileged information.”
Her eyes glowered and had him sucking in his breath. The woman looked positively feral.
“Cut the crap, Phillip. I need to know details. I've been kept in the dark much too long. I'm CEO of this place-”
“And I'm the owner.” He lifted his chin and found the balls to return her glare. “You will discover who it is the day after tomorrow. We've been assured that your position is safe-”
“Why, thank you.”
Her sarcasm had his lips thinning. He considered her irreverent and completely disrespectful. If it hadn't been for the ironclad contract that his father had signed with her, he would have recommended they get rid of her. But he grudgingly had to admit that she was excellent at her job. He did not like intellectual women who were also ball busters, and Kady-Ann Klien was the worst of them all. She behaved as if the place was hers.
“There will be a meeting with the new owners first thing Wednesday morning.”
“Will I be sitting in on the meeting, or am I supposed to stay in my office like a good little girl and wait to be summoned?”
“Of course you'll be part of the meeting.” He said magnanimously. “Now, if there's nothing else-”
“That's it?” She pushed back her chair and rose. “You just walked in here and dropped the bomb and now you're leaving? Don't you care about the company and the people who have been busting their asses while you prance all over the place behaving like a damn teenager? You're not even going to fight for them?”
He stood up slowly, the color draining from his face, leaving it pale. Light blue eyes stared at her haughtily as he fought down the urge to simply run from the building. He hated scenes, and this was rapidly becoming one.
“The airline has been losing money for several years now, and I'm sure you were aware of the straits we're in. Most of the employees will be kept on, at least that's what I was told. The others will be suitably compensated. It's not my fault-”
