Authors: Robin Cavanaugh
Bonus Story 22 of 24
Odette was pleasantly surprised by the efficient way she was met at the airport, then whisked away in air-conditioned luxury to Anya Baxter’s villa. She’d been nervous about the prospect of meeting the famous billionaire businesswoman, especially since Anya was eager to buy up Odette’s global lingerie business. She’d immediately frozen her company’s share trading—a risky undertaking in today’s volatile market—and had warned her employees to be wary of under-handed tactics.
So the bidding for the company had begun, Odette had resisted every attempt, despite Anya’s generous offers. Money wasn’t the issue. The business had been in Odette’s family for generations, started by her great-grandmother when the Jorgensen family had lived in Sweden, and profits climbed year on year. The Jorgensens were close to their first billion, a target Odette had striven to reach since they’d broken into the American market six years ago.
But their success had brought new and unforeseen problems, Anya’s determination being the biggest headache. Odette had flown to Miami, planning to plead with Anya Baxter to cease and desist her attempts to acquire Hot Pink Lingerie. The constant battle was putting a serious strain on Grandma Jorgensen’s heart.
Odette had half-expected a scornful reply from Anya, but her rival had extended every courtesy, sending a chauffeur to collect her from the Jorgensen home, dispatching a private jet, and now Odette was on her way to Anya’s villa.in Coral Gables, Miami, Florida.
She chewed her lip as she imagined the forthcoming confrontation, despite her rival’s generosity. She suspected Anya might be softening her up for a final punch, preparing to deliver a legal blow that the Jorgensen lawyers hadn’t anticipated. Well, Anya would quickly discover that the Jorgensens were no pushovers. They hadn’t endured four generations in business without developing a healthy backbone.
The limo slowed, and pulled up to some impressive ironwork gates, which were rolling aside before the driver came to a complete halt. Odette had time to admire the intricate carvings on the stone gate posts—which stood over ten feet high—before the car moved off again. The generous driveway allowed the limo to swing around one-eighty degrees and face the road before the driver stopped. He walked around and opened the door, so Odette could head straight for the stone-built house, which in truth was more of a mansion. A warm breeze caressed her back as she moved away from the car.
Anya was waiting at the top of a trio of wide, flat steps. Despite the Miami heat, she wore a light shawl over her head and shoulders, and sported over-large sunshades. Dark hair spilled out from the shawl. She threw out her arms in flamboyant Hollywood style, and grinned broadly. It wasn’t the frosty welcome Odette had anticipated.
“Okay,” she said to herself. “Let’s see how this goes. One step…” She mounted the first wide step, “…at a time.” She was glad she’d dressed conservatively, wearing a red Ralph Lauren skirt and lightweight polo blouse. She pushed her long blond hair back from her face, but the Miami breeze wrapped it around her face again. Anya, by contrast, favored darker Gucci colors.
“I hope you had a pleasant trip,” Anya said. “The G-Six is my favorite way to travel.”
“I’m more of a boat girl, personally,” Odette replied pleasantly. “But the flight was smooth—and much faster.”
“Yes, yes. You wanted to see me. I sensed your eagerness in the email. Come, come.” She beckoned inward with the impatience of an old woman, although Odette knew she hadn’t yet hit forty. The pair walked inside and Anya closed the door. The house was noticeably cooler, even chilly. Anya immediately dispensed with the shawl and shades, dropping them onto a semi-circular hall table, as if she was relieved to be indoors. Odette wondered why she’d chosen Miami, when so many other Anya-hospitable climates were available to someone of her means.
She was led through the cool marble hallway and out into a small poolside area—which was covered and also air-conditioned, although it was less chilly, she was relieved to note. Outside, a glass-sided infinity pool stretched in both directions and looked big enough to float her modest in-shore yacht, Divinity.
“I assume you still enjoy red wine spritzers?” Anya asked as she headed for a small bar.
“I’ve switched to beer,” Odette said. A small smirk twitched her lips as Anya spun to stare at her in dismay. “I’m kidding,” Odette continued, “I only wanted to see your face.”
Anya pressed a hand to her heart. “I’m so relieved. I was about to fire my researcher.”
“His job is safe.”
“Her job, Ms. Jorgensen. I only employ women, much like yourself, I believe.”
“Women,” Odette confirmed. “And exceptional men.”
“Although they have to work twice as hard to earn their place?”
“Absolutely.” Odette settled into a lounger as the pair laughed, enjoying the social irony of their parallel empires. Their handful of male employees were well paid, but their salaries rated beneath their female counterparts. Protests over this treatment—which inevitably began in the media—were quickly quashed when feminists of the world pointed out that the opposite was true for the other 99.9% of companies in the world, but no fuss was evident in those cases. Odette and Anya were proud that their companies were being held up as examples. Maybe one day, their efforts would result in women enjoying equal pay.
“Here you are,” Anya handed over a tall glass, topped with ice. The upper half was red, shading to clear for the bottom half. In her other hand, she held a glass of red wine.
“Marques de Riscal?” Odette asked. Anya wasn’t the only one who had researchers.
“Naturally. The twenty-ten Reserva.” She swirled the glass, and the thick red liquid clung to the sides. Odette sipped tentatively. The upper half of the spritzer was generous with red. She decided to let the drink infuse for a few minutes.
So, about my being here…”
“Yes, we really need to sort this business out,” Anya said, settling onto a lounger opposite Odette, whose first thought was to ask Anya to leave Hot Pink Lingerie the hell alone. But she’d flown to Miami to negotiate, not start a shouting match.
“Why do you want my family business so badly, Anya?”
“Because…” she sipped slowly. “Your company represents the best of the best, and would complement my company perfectly.”
“But I don’t want to be part of another company.”
“Odette, we live in a global marketplace, and you’d get a bigger share of the pie if you were part of All Woman.”
“I’m happy with the share I have, thank you.”
“But you could have so much more.”
“Like I said, I’m happy with the way my business is. It doesn’t need assimilating, absorbing or merging, thank you.”
Anya sighed. “Okay, I can see we’re on opposite sides of the water on this issue.”
“Opposite sides of the ocean,” Odette pointed out. “Literally.”
“Why don’t you have dinner with me? We can chat some more. Where are you staying, by the way?”
“I didn’t book anywhere,” Odette admitted. “This all happened in a rush.”
“Then you should stay here.”
“It’s kind of you, but—”
“But nothing. I have six bedrooms. Four of them never get used. Please, stay.”
“I won’t change my mind,” Odette warned.
“You might,” Anya raised an eyebrow. “When you see what I have to offer.”
“And what exactly is it you’re offering?”
“My expertise, my unswerving dedication to the brand, my passion.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “My heart, body and soul.”
“Wow. That’s a lot to put on the table. I thought you were all about the money.”
“Money is a tool. But it’s determination and pride that drives my business.”
Odette looked sideways at her rival, seeing her in a new light. Everything she’d read about Anya indicated she was a cold, hard-nosed businesswoman. Nowhere had she seen any sign of genuine love for her business, which Odette had in bucketfuls.
“You’re not the only one who built up her business from the work of previous generations. My mother and aunt worked extremely hard to create All Woman. I had no idea how hard, until my aunt died and I was pressed into service helping mom.”
Odette stared. “That’s awful.”
Anya stared into her wine. “It’s the lemons that life throws that make us stronger.”
Odette frowned at the mixed metaphor. “I’m sure that’s not how—”
“Having to work so hard from such a young age taught me the value of hard work. Of course, I hated it at first, but it dawned on me when I finally grew up—which was years before my time.”
“I’d no idea…”
“No idea that I was anything other than a manipulative, money grabbing hard-nosed bitch?” She shifted her head from side to side and grinned as she finished.
“I wasn’t thinking—”
“Relax. It’s what the media calls me. Even the feminists are divided when it comes to my ethics.”
“I have to confess. I was afraid of what I’d find here.”
“We have more in common than you thought?”
“Maybe,” Odette hedged.
“We might end up as friends rather than enemies?” She waved a casual hand. “Okay, maybe friends is too strong a word. Colleagues, perhaps.”
Odette laughed, “Maybe we’ll wait and see how that works out.”
Anya raised her glass, “Maybe we will.”
*****
They spent the next hour chatting casually, sipping drinks and comparing the dynamics of different markets on different continents. Where Anya’s relatively young business was based in the USA and had expanded overseas, Odette’s generations-old company had spread across Europe over and had only recently penetrated the US market.
“What I don’t quite grasp,” Odette confessed, is why you want my company, when you already have a lingerie division.”
“It’s a pretty poor lingerie division.” Anya stared at her glass as she swirled the contents.
“You have a good range.”
“But you have an excellent range. That’s the difference. I covet perfection, and your line up is honed to damn near perfection, Ms. Jorgensen.”
“Only damn near? We’ve fallen short? I will be sacking someone when I get back.”
Anya laughed. “I want All Woman to have the best damn lingerie in the world, and for that, I need your expertise, your savvy, and your know-how.”
Odette sighed. “It’s your aggression that’s so off-putting.”
Anya’s eyebrows rose. “Aggression? How so?”
“I have been bombarded day and night with insistent phone calls, emails and letters. Members of my staff have been accosted on their way to work and on their way home—”
“Hold on, hold on!” Anya raised a hand. “I didn’t sanction any of those activities.”
“Someone did. My mother is worried sick, and my grandma is in the hospital with severe chest pains over this.”
“Odette…” Anya leaned forward and put her hand on Odette’s knee. “Please believe me when I tell you that I knew nothing about any of this.”
“Then someone on your books is overstepping the mark.”
“The people on my books know how much I want results.” She sighed. “Maybe it’s my fault for pushing so hard. I have a tendency to put fires under people’s asses.”
“I think that was outlawed after Salem.”
Anya laughed. “I would like you to stay here as my guest until I get to the bottom of this.”
“It’d be nice if you could call them off.”
“Don’t worry.” She patted Odette’s knee. “I will.”
“Then I’ll stay. But I’ll need to be back before the weekend.”
“That gives us five days!”
“Will it take the whole five days?”
“If you could speak to your people, maybe forward me copies of the aggressive emails, scan the letters?”
“I’ll do that. We were keeping them all for the day we took it to the courts.”
“There won’t be any need for that.” Anya drained her glass and stood up. “Refill?”
“Why not?” Odette handed over her glass. Their fingers brushed softly together as the exchange took place. Their gazes met, as both women wondered if they were reading the signals correctly.
The moment passed; Anya’s stride carried her away from her potential colleague, and on toward the small poolside bar. Odette watched her retreating figure with new interest, hoping she hadn’t mistaken the small spark that had passed between the pair. Her heart fluttered at the possibilities ahead of them—assuming she wasn’t wishing for something that wasn’t there.
But what if the touch was all part of an elaborate ruse to seduce her into giving in? Was Anya truly capable of such a deceit? The media was forever speculating on her relationships, as she stepped into the public spotlight with a series of male companions. Still unwed at the age of thirty-eight, it was entirely possible the men were part of a smokescreen for her secret preferences. Equally, she might simply be biding her time, and searching for ‘the one’. Odette employed similar tactics, much to the chagrin of her mother, who feared for the reputation of the family business, and its ultimate future. No husband meant no heirs. Odette had promised to adopt instead, or if she found the right woman, she’d consider employing a surrogate.
She might even go one step further and attempt implantation, although her mother feared time was running out. But Odette was in no hurry. For now, she was happy to keep searching for the right woman.
As her rival prepared more drinks, Odette nodded to herself. Very well, she thought, she’d let Anya draw her in. If devious seduction was her game, let her give it her best shot. Odette would remain wary every step of the way. She smiled at the idea that a completely-straight Anya might be bluffing. With Odette prepared to take the action all the way to the bedroom, Anya was in for a shock. This was not going to end well for her.
Let’s see who cracks first, Odette thought. Her nerves humming with confidence, she smiled as Anya handed her a second spritzer. It was stronger than the first, with a bold red head of wine floating on the clear soda. Still, it wasn’t as strong as Anya’s glass of deep red, although Odette conceded it might have been switched for a non-alcoholic variety. No, she decided, the consistency was wrong for a cheap substitute. The thick, aromatic liquid was the real thing. Perhaps Anya didn’t care about getting drunk. Perhaps this was the only way she could go through with her deception. She grinned. If Anya was straight, she was going to need the second glass, maybe even a third.
“Why are you smiling?” Anya asked as she sat on the lounger opposite.
Odette raised her glass. “To our potential friendship.”
Anya smiled. “I like to think we might already be friends.” Again, she touched Odette’s knee.
She pretended not to notice. “True friends should know all about each other.” She leaned forward. “Things the researchers can’t dig up.”
“For instance?”
Odette glanced around. “When I’m home alone, I don’t bother with underwear.”
“That’s nothing special. All women do that.”
“Or clothes,” Odette added. “I prefer nudity over being dressed.” She leaned back, watching Anya carefully.
“Oh. Oh, I see. That’s definitely another step. I’m only usually topless.”
“Really?”
“I don’t wear anything down below either, but I have a sheer wrap around my hips.” She nodded toward the big windows, and the beach below. “Paparazzi can be very inventive. Topless photos in the media I can live with, but I prefer not to see nudes of myself.” She shuddered. “It’s unseemly. Call me old-fashioned.”
“You’re old-fashioned.” Odette grinned. “I don’t mind being photographed.”
“I know. I’ve seen the pictures. A little blurry, but you have a wonderful figure.”
“Thank you. The paparazzi can’t seem to get enough. I live opposite a cliff, so they have to risk their lives to get their photos. Nowadays, of course, they’re using drones.”
“Ah, I had one of those round here a few days ago. I thought it was a toy.”
“A toy used for espionage—and juicy nude pictures. No celebrity is safe anymore.”
“I’ll have to be more cautious, maybe get some tinted glass.”
“You could shoot them down,” Odette suggested. “I have hours of fun knocking them out of the sky.”
Anya grinned. “I think I’ll try that.” She fixed Odette with a steady gaze. “You really don’t mind being seen nude?”
“It doesn’t bother me much. Plus, it gives me incentive to stay trim.” She patted her stomach.
“I hadn’t considered that.” She glanced down her own body. “Maybe when I lose a few pounds…”
Odette snorted. “You’re as trim as I am.”
Anya’s mouth tightened. “I’d still like to lose a few.”
“You’ve nothing to worry about, really.” She has body issues? Seriously?
“Hmm.” Anya sipped her wine, no longer meeting Odette’s gaze. She looked distinctly uncomfortable.
“Is that why you wear the wrap?”
“Um… yes?”
“You don’t need to hide anything from me. I think you have a wonderful figure.”
“You’re being nice, that’s all.”
“That’s me, nice all over.”
“Hmm.” Anya’s eyes roamed across Odette’s body, prompting the younger woman’s next words.
“I tell you what, since we’re going to be friends, why don’t we shed the Gucci and the Ralph Lauren?”
Anya’s eyes widened. “But we’re not alone. You’re here. And you’re not in your own house. And—”
“Relax, will you? You said we were friends. Can’t friends relax a little?”
“I guess.”