Double-Cross My Heart (24 page)

He threw back the comforter and turned to get out of bed when his gaze fell on a scrap of paper on his nightstand.

Alex,
it read,
You were wonderful last night, but things are so crazy right now. I’m not in a good place in my life. Can we just keep “us” simple for awhile? At least, until the dust settles. I think I need to sleep alone for a few weeks. The board meeting isn’t that far away and everything will soon be resolved. Eden.

             
Damn, he thought, frustrated and worried at the same time. He’d known she was feeling a lot of pressure. This business with the company went seriously against Eden’s grain. Honesty with her boss was important to her and here she was working against the very person who’d been her role model.

Of course, Michele Broussard had asked for it.

But that didn’t make the situation any easier on Alex’s woman.

Last night, her reaction to his remarks about Keith’s ambitious employee had caught Alex by surprise. Admittedly, he’d made a couple of stupid, thoughtless comments, but now he found himself wondering again what exactly had set Eden off. Her reaction seemed out of proportion.

He hadn’t realized she was quite that stressed.

Getting out of bed, he strode decisively toward the shower. If she wanted to hold off on sleeping together, he could handle that. He didn’t, however, just sit by when someone he cared for was troubled.

Eden needed some serious comforting. He just needed to decide how that would best be accomplished.

***

Frowning at a burst of laughter wafting through her open office door, Eden opened the email on her Hotmail account.

Cheryl really had the hots for the mail room guy.

Important: Don’t Delete
said the message line on the third email down. With her high security settings, she didn’t get as much garbage email as before, but random crap still came through. She glanced at the email addy, her finger hovering over the Delete key.

Who the heck was
Insomniac1?

Glancing up at the doorway through which she could still see Cheryl flirting madly, Eden opened Insomniac1’s message.

Thanks for listening,
it started,
and for so much more. What a night. I guess it’ll have to hold me for a while, which is fine. Let’s get past the hurdle ahead. BTW, we need to know the situation on L problem with Michigan site. Can I see you tonight? No pressure.

The email was signed with the initial
A
.

Rereading the words on the screen before dropping her finger on the Delete key, Eden tightened her lips. Amazing how the personal message was followed so quickly by a request for company information.

Why could this one man bring her such mixed feelings?

Leaving his bed the other night was hard. He looked so damn good—so big and relaxed—sleeping there next to her. But she’d known what she needed to do. The situation was just getting worse, the farther they went….

She had to remember his real purpose. No matter how sincerely Alex had acknowledged his fatuous remarks to that jackass Keith or how sweet he was about his mother, she had to remember he was betraying her.

Refusing to allow herself to examine again the revelations he’d shared with her the other night about his childhood, she drew a deep breath. Resolutely ignoring the tight spot between her shoulder blades and her nagging headache, she stared at the notepad on the desk beside her keyboard. Top of her “To Do” list was checking in with Roberte Bergere. His anti-aging product was her best bet at being able to finally attain the CEO position.

She’d talked to no one other than Jess about Bergere’s positive reports. When she produced a highly marketable anti-aging cream at the board meeting, she’d startle everyone and, at the same time, convince the board she had the best instincts for running the company.

His email invitation required a response. She glanced at the computer screen, but decided against email. No matter how she couched her words or what email avenue she used, a trail would be left. Better to chance the phone. There was always the possibility that Wendi wasn’t as stupid as she looked. She might have tapped Eden’s phone at work, but Eden doubted it.

Wendi foolishly thought Eden was resigned to her fate.

“Okay,” Cheryl said, waving to her mail room flirt as he left the office, “I’ll see you later.”

Eden rolled her eyes and forced a smile to her face as her assistant sashayed up to her doorway. “You’re shameless.”

“Hey,” her secretary said boldly, “I’m not married to my work, like you are. Some of us have needs.”

“And he’s the guy to satisfy them?” Eden cast an eye at the clock. What time was it in Zurich?

“Maybe,” Cheryl said, grinning.

Eden started, consciously softening her voice, “Well, you be careful—“

“Yes, mother,” the older woman sassed, “I always use a condom.”

A genuine smile quirked Eden’s lips at this remark from her notoriously straight-laced employee, but she continued “—you don’t want to get involved with a guy you have to see at work each day. If it doesn’t work out, things get awkward. Besides, I’m not sure you even know how to use a condom. When was the last time you had sex? Didn’t you end up divorcing the guy?”

Cheryl smirked at her, acknowledging the implication. “No. I’m not as lonely as you think.”

“I’m going to tell your college-aged daughter you’re thinking about having sex,” Eden threatened, enjoying a moment of silly conversation. Life had been so damned serious lately.

Her secretary laughed. “Thinking doesn’t hurt. You know I don’t have sex with just anyone, but I am thinking about going out with Daryl. For a mail room guy, he’s pretty buff and he’s not that much younger than me. Oh, he brought us a couple of things. Doyle sent us a cartoon he found and, on a very different note, there’s a memo for you from Her Highness.”

“Thanks.” Eden took the unsealed envelope Cheryl held out. She’d been careful not to tell Cheryl her true opinion of Wendi Williams. If things backfired in a spectacular way, Cheryl could actually end up employed by Wendi. But despite Eden trying not to influence her, Cheryl, in her own to-the-point manner, had developed a serious dislike for Wendi.

“Daryl says it’s probably a reminder about the ‘Passions’ purple lipstick,” Cheryl said, turning to go back to her desk in the outer office.

“Tell Daryl,” Eden raised her voice as her secretary disappeared, “to quit reading my mail!”

Cheryl greeted this request with a laugh.

Getting up, Eden went to the door. “I’m making some calls, so I won’t be bothering you for an hour or so.”

“Thanks,” Cheryl replied, turning back to her own computer with a smile.

Eden closed the door and went to sit at her desk. The brief lightening of her mood dissipated as she searched for the scientist’s phone number. Alex could wait. Lifting the phone receiver, she called Roberte Bergere’s lab.

The last two reports he’d sent had shown increasingly promising results. This product had success written all over it and Eden was determined to be the one to usher it onto the marketplace.

A pleasant-voiced voicemail message in French invited the caller to punch in the desired extension. Eden did so, waiting for the line to be answered.

“Hello.”

“This is Eden Merritt, Roberte.”

“Ahh, Ms. Merritt,” the scientist responded in his superb English. “How nice to hear from you. You received my latest results?”

“Yes. It sounds very promising,” she said, her excitement rising as it always did when a new product showed real potential. “You mentioned the fragrance situation.”

“
Oui,”
Bergere said, “my team is trying to find something lighter, fresher. Your usual American scents can be very floral. We’re wanting a different scent altogether.”

“I agree completely.”

Without a doubt, this anti-aging cream would bring Michele Cosmetics significant revenue. Neither Michele or Alex must know about it.

“So, I am working through to refine the drying factor,” Bergere concluded. “I will send you a report no later than next week.”

“Wonderful,” she told him. “That’s wonderful. I look forward to receiving it. Of course, you’ll take the usual precautions?”

“Of course,” he assured her.

***

“She refused her bananas?” Jessica echoed in disbelief, the small cell phone cradled to her ear to block the noise in the bar. “But she loves bananas. Juice? You gave her juice with dinner? Greg, you know she doesn’t eat if you give her juice! All right. Okay. I know, I know, I’m supposed to be having a Girls’ Night Out. Fine. I’ll be home by eleven.”

“So, he’s a clueless father who doesn’t know how to feed his daughter?” Eden cocked a sardonic eyebrow at her friend.

“No. No, he’s a great dad. He just doesn’t spend as much time with her as I do….”

Her friend’s voice trailed off, a lost expression on her face. Eden had concluded a while back that Jess really didn’t know what she wanted: full time motherhood or the corner office.

Reaching over, Eden put a comforting hand over her friend’s. “Hey, they’re fine and we’re out having a good time.”

“Yes,” Jessica said, determination warring with doubt. “Yes, we are having a good time. So tell me again about the plant in Michigan.”

Eden took a sip of her drink, ignoring the guy at the end of the bar who was doing his best to catch her eye. “Remember the older man who has always had the union power at that plant? James McLendon? White haired gentleman who’s been there for years?”

“I don’t think I know him,” Jess said, shaking her head. “You were the personnel guru. I was only a lowly junior ad exec.”

“That’s not true,” Eden disagreed. “You worked in as many departments as I did, over several years. We were together in personnel for nine months. That’s why I thought you might remember James.”

“I don’t, sorry.” Jessica looked up, flashing an automatic smile as the waiter placed fresh drinks on the table.

“From the men at the end of the bar,” the waiter said, grinning as he nodded at the two men.

Politely smiling in their direction, Eden lifted up Jessica’s hand—large diamond-decked wedding band in place—and shrugged toward the men who looked crest-fallen, but accepting.  

“So what did Union James from the Michigan plant tell you?” Jess asked. “Is there a strike brewing?”

“I don’t think its that bad.” Eden responded, glad she could rule this one problem out. “There are some issues that need resolving. I’m pretty sure, from what James is hinting at, that they’d accept a smaller raise if they were assured of no layoffs.”

“You can’t assure them,” Jessica expostulated. “If you don’t have the money to pay the workers, what will you do?”

“Put my own compensation package on the line,” Eden said promptly. “Listen in this economy, it takes leadership and flair to keep a company going, not to mention, a good handle on the practicalities. I wouldn’t give James a guarantee that would protect non-productive employees, but we’ve got to offer these folks some incentive. They’re on the front lines financially. I’d keep them motivated, maybe even offer to discuss some employee-ownership package. I don’t want to put my own salary on the line, but if I do, the rank-and-file workers will support me to hell and back.”

Jessica leaned back in her chair, a faint smile playing at her mouth. “You really are good at this. You have a passion for it. I mean, I know you’re worried about this mess with the company, but it still seems to be worthwhile to you.”

The taller of the two guys at the end of the bar caught Eden’s eye and smiled at her meaningfully. Momentarily amused by his determination, Eden couldn’t prevent the smile that curled her mouth.

“The board is nuts if they don’t vote to replace Michele with you,” Jess continued on. “You know this company like no one else.”

“Well,” Eden said, stabbing her straw at the ice in her glass, “I love it. It’s a good company, dammit.”

“And your plan is working? Keeping the anti-aging cream under wraps and networking with the board members to get them on your side.”

“It’s not
my
side,” Eden protested sharply. “I am better to run the company—yes, I want the job—but the rest of the people working there will have a better chance of getting a paycheck, if the board appoints me.”

“Honey, I know that,” her friend said with a worried look on her face. “I just wondered how it’s going? Does that scientist think the anti-aging cream is really that good?”

“It looks good,” Eden said more calmly, deliberately relaxing against the back of the bar stool. “Bergere’s results are even better than I’d hoped. It’s a great product, Jess. Resurfaces the skin with minimal break-outs. Really boosts that youthful glowy tone women lose as they age.”

“That’s great,” Jessica said, smiling. “A product like that will really help the bottom line.”

“Yes,” Eden murmured. “He’s fine-tuning it now. Maximizing the refinishing quality just to the point of dryness. We’re thinking about offering several levels, some with lower drying qualities, some for women with more oily skin. The beauty of this product is that it works well on women of light or dark complexions. The testing is going really well.”