Page 20 of Champagne and Daisies

He shook his head again, more firmly this time. “Not my business,”

“Then maybe it’s time that Zosca becomes my business.”

He scowled.

“I mean, maybe it’s time for me to buy it from you. To make it my own. Then I can run it as I see fit and live or die by my own decisions.”

Her dad held her gaze. She had no idea what he was thinking. “That may be the way to go.”

Wow! She’d thought about it a lot the last few months, but she’d considered it more of a daydream. Now he was saying that it could become a reality. “So, what are you saying?”

“That we should take the next three months to have Grant go through every aspect of the business and identify where we could improve. I’ll expect him to report back to me at the end of that time. When he does, we’ll sit down together and see if you want to implement his suggestions. If not, then I suppose it’ll be crunch time. We’ll have to decide if you’re going to buy me out, or if I’m going to bring someone else to run it.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “You can’t bring someone else in. They’d destroy everything I’m building.”

Her dad pursed his lips. “At that point, it won’t matter.”

“I suppose not. If I can’t live with what Grant suggests, then it’s going to be all or nothing for me, isn’t it? Buy it or get out.”

“I’m afraid so, buttercup. I’d hoped Zosca would be a project that we could work on together, but that wasn’t fair to you. I wanted you to run the place my way. I didn’t consider that you’d have your own way.” He shrugged and gave her a sad smile. “I have to accept that my little girl is all grown up.”

“Aww, Dad.”

He smiled. “It’s a good thing. Either this exercise with Grant will uncover a middle ground where we’ll both be happy, or it’ll force us to part ways. At least, in business, and I’d say that’s much healthier, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“And what do you think of Grant. Do you like him?”

She stared at him, wondering how she should answer.

“Of course, you only met him for a matter of minutes. You’ve hardly had a chance to get more than a first impression. I can tell you, I like him. I think he should be easy to get along with. And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have talked about you being under him.”

Chelsea closed her eyes for a moment. She wished he hadn’t mentioned that again. Just like the first time he’d said it, she remembered being under Grant—looking up into his deep blue eyes as she wrapped her legs around his and their bodies moved together. “It’s okay. I know I won’t be under him.” No way could she do that again. He might not be the enemy she’d like to paint him as, but she’d have to keep her distance from him.

~ ~ ~

Cameron shook Grant’s hand with a smile. “I didn’t expect to take up so much of your time, but I’m glad it worked out this way.”

Grant grinned. “I am too.” Cameron had talked him through several divisions of Hamilton-Groves where they both believed his services could prove very useful. There could be a couple of years’ worth of work in it for him and some enjoyable challenges.

“All of that is for down the road, though. Your first challenge is Zosca, and I don’t envy you that one.”

Grant wasn’t overly thrilled at getting embroiled in a struggle between Chelsea and her father, but he couldn’t deny that he liked the idea of getting to spend more time with her. He couldn’t deny it, but he couldn’t admit it to Cameron either. “The first step is figuring out what the goals are.” He checked his watch. “And I should probably get back to the boardroom and see if they’ve made any progress with that.”

Cameron nodded. “I’ll get Mary Ellen to show you back there.” He opened the door to his office. “Mary Ellen?”

“Yes, sir. What can I do for you, sir?”

That puzzled Grant. Mary Ellen was obviously not simply a secretary, but the way she spoke to Cameron surprised him. She seemed to have an attitude, and he had a nasty feeling that it had something to do with him.

“Could you show Grant back to the boardroom?”

She looked as though he’d asked her to take the trash out. “I could.”

Grant didn’t miss the way Cameron raised an eyebrow at her. He didn’t look like a boss scolding an employee, more like a guy asking his friend what she was pissed about.

“Follow me.” She gave Grant the fakest smile he’d ever seen.

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