Page 8 of The Exposed Heiress

He could remember times when his mother couldn’t afford heat in their flat, yet Emma and her family would spend a month in southern Italy escaping the bitter grey days in London. It was why he worked so hard to make something of himself, so he wouldn’t have to struggle each day for food and proper shelter.

Emma titled her head up. “Do I have your agreement?”

He relaxed his shoulders. “No. If Francis Bolles is to survive, decisive action is needed. I’ll wait on layoffs for a day or two, but make no mistake, they will be needed.”

Her eyes glittered with irritation, or possibly misplaced anger. “I won’t agree to let people go. Our employees have been with us for years and years.”

He took in a deep breath. “Go and see your father. This issue won’t be solved today.”

She turned away from him and slipped out the door.

Leo removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He wouldn’t allow her to soften him. If decisive actions weren’t undertaken immediately, there wouldn’t be a Francis Bolles in a few weeks’ time.

The predators were circling. James Bolles had made many enemies, and they would not sit idly back, watching someone resurrect the business while James slowly recovered. They’d use their power and influence to help it collapse. A year ago, men would whisper about issues facing Francis Bolles. Now they were talking with reporters and coming up with all the dirt they could unearth. It was impossible to hide from it.

Taking a seat at the desk, he flipped open his laptop and began scrolling through the accounting reports. Francis Bolles was hemorrhaging cash everywhere. There wasn’t one solvent subsidiary. It was hard to imagine James had any hope left in the days before his accident. A complete re-structuring of the business was needed, but it wouldn’t guarantee that the couture house would survive.

Leo flexed his shoulder muscles. If he hadn’t owed James Bolles his life, he’d walk away without a backward glance. But that simply wasn’t possible. He needed to make sure that Emma Bolles survived all of this, even if she didn’t deserve his good will or limitless support. He’d honor the past, and then move on.

Chapter 3

Emma glanced at the early morning light flowing into her flat, and steadied herself for the fight ahead. Her father had survived the surgery, and now she had to face the problems at Francis Bolles, along with Leo Bloom. Securing her hair into a tight bun, she applied a minimum amount of neutral eye shadow and mascara. She gathered her laptop and notebook and slid it into her work bag. Wrapping a pink cashmere shawl around her body, she picked up her keys, and slipped her phone into her pocket.

Stepping down the four stone steps outside her flat, she nodded to the reporters gathered. Keeping her eyes diverted, she decided to not engage them. There wasn’t anything new to tell the press. Her father was clinging to life and the business was in free-fall.

Her driver opened the back door of the black Mercedes and she gratefully slid inside. He closed the door and she had a moment of quiet before he climbed into the car and slowly maneuvered down the street.

“Are you going to work, Ms. Bolles?”

She glanced out the window. “Yes.” She’d rather avoid Leo and stay at home, but things needed to be faced. She wasn’t about to hide out and give him the impression that she’d back down.

She cleared her mind of images of her father lying helpless in a hospital bed. The doctors had assured her that the surgery had been successful and in a matter of days, he would be transported to a private clinic outside of London to begin the long recovery process.

The driver slowed the car to make a turn. “Would you like me to hang around today, or come back at six this evening?”

Emma contemplated the day ahead. “Six is fine.” She’d stick to her schedule even if Leo drove her stark mad.

The uniformed driver double-parked near Francis Bolles and got out to open her door. Emma held her short black skirt from riding up and stepped out onto the sidewalk holding her work bag and handbag.

Emma smiled. “Thank you. Have a good day.”

The driver nodded. “You as well.”

Barely glancing at the display windows, she walked into the main foyer and nodded to the man cleaning the floors. The boutique wouldn’t open for a few hours, so the public spaces were empty.

She continued on through the double glass doors that separated the showroom from the private offices. The receptionist said, “Good morning, Ms. Bolles.”

She paused near the desk. “Do you know if Mr. Bloom is in?”

The older woman leaned closer and whispered, “He’s in your father’s office.”

Why couldn’t he choose another office? Emma refused to let her irritation show. “Thank you.”

She walked through the dark hallway, switching lights on as she went.

Pushing open the door to her father’s office, she hesitated for a fraction of a second before making herself face him. He irritated her. Everything about him screamed attention-seeking, arrogant male. Nothing about him convinced her that he’d collaborate or help in any way.

Emma placed her work bag on the ornate conference table and turned to face him. “You need to find another office.”

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