The Chosen Heir (The Bolles Dynasty Book 3) (10 page)

William surprised her. Discussing the course, he was about more than merely profit and loss. He had some sort of nostalgic connection with the land. Like her father.

“Does your management team agree with seeking out Tom?”

“They are somewhat defeated at the moment. The Donne is hemorrhaging money. We have never taken on a long-term company or project that had this much risk. They need to dig in and find talent and expertise that they didn’t know existed within themselves to make this work.”

“Maybe you are asking too much of them?”

“They are well compensated to succeed where others have failed. We have turned around several companies that are now doing unimaginable sales. I know this will happen for The Donne.”

He turned down the private road towards The Donne. It was more beautiful than she remembered. The sweeping lawns were more dramatic and she could see work happening in the distance.

“It has changed considerably, but I don’t share your enthusiasm. You probably shouldn’t bring me in because I’m not able to be a cheerleader. I don’t see success as a likely outcome.”

“You haven’t been here in years. I’ll ask you to withhold judgment. If you approach this with an open mind and give it a chance then tell me you can’t help – I’ll send you over to Breen.”

“William, I belong at Breen. I have experience in the fashion industry.”

Her words were met with silence and she began to feel uneasy. He had just asked her to withhold judgment and have an open mind. Surely she was capable of that? Even if this horrible place brought back terrible memories for her. Her father had spent the last few years of her mother’s life throwing himself into this place and it was all for nothing.

***

William parked the vehicle near the conference center. Getting out, he breathed in the fresh scent of grass being cut. He waited for Bridget to climb out of the Range Rover and walk towards him. Why did he find her so alluring? She would be impossible to work with. Why couldn’t she accept direction and decide to throw herself into something unexpected? Her negative thoughts about The Donne were making him uneasy. Fionn has visited a few months back and had counseled him to give up and pull out of the project. The course might be a beast, but he wanted to see it come alive again. He was doing it in memory of his father. He wanted to come and play eighteen holes and think of him. Giving up at this point would be admitting to failure. He would rather go bankrupt. If he was going to fail, then why not fail hugely?

He had convinced himself that Bridget North should be off limits. Her appeal should be resisted. But watching her, he was reconsidering his declaration to himself. Why not pursue a satisfying physical relationship with her? It would take the edge off their business differences. Would she be a willing participant or would she insist on maintaining a respectful professional distance?

“Come. The team is meeting in the club house.”

She followed him and he held the door to the new space. It was the only building onsite that he had been able to design from scratch. They had demolished the old clubhouse and sited this one in a better location to take in the grandness of the course.
 

“This building is new. We needed a club house that could host large press gatherings and an influx of fans for important tournaments.”

She stopped in the center of the space and glanced around.
 

“It is an architectural feat,” Will said. “It’s design showcases the course, but the expansive space is inviting.”

He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but he needed to take it slow with her. His general manager had warned him that the North family had taken losing this place to heart and shortly thereafter her mother had died. It was complicated involving her. Maybe he was asking too much.

“This building houses a conference center for meetings or training.” He led her away from the main open area and to a secluded private section that housed the meeting rooms.

Walking into the meeting room, he noticed his four-person executive group had already begun a heated debate about the renovation of the hotel. The conversation stopped when everyone noticed he had brought a guest.

“This is Bridget North. She is a marketing executive that I was bringing in for Breen but thought she may be able to help us with The Donne.”

Alex was the first to stand and hold out his hand to her. They sat at the conference table and each member introduced himself.

“One odd coincidence that I’d like to mention is that my father, Thomas North, had been a previous owner of this resort years ago. I had a front row view of some of the challenges of trying to bring back an old but loved relic.”

There was no sentiment in her tone. It was professional and honest. He looked at his management team and knew she would be accepted among them without resentment. It was the combination of her beauty and professionalism that had softened them.

Alex said, “William mentioned scheduling a meeting with your father for later today.”

“Yes. He convinced me to open up that can of worms. My father loves this place, but that feeling couldn’t be translated to a sound business plan. I’d imagine that it will take a logical approach and not intuition.”

Someone else said, “It’s important to understand the history of this place so we don’t fall victim to some of the same mistakes.”

William directed the accountant, Jeremy Spire, to give a review of recent expenditures. The rest of the project meeting was fast-paced and he made sure to keep everyone on task. Bridget was given a list of objectives, and their communications fellow promised to set up email and passwords for her to their company site.

As they were walking out, Will asked her, “Did you bring different shoes?”
 

Glancing at her, he remembered their walk through the park at night. She was impossibly sexy with her long legs and four-inch heels. Why did she wear such impractical shoes? There was no way he could walk the course with her.
 

“I didn’t know I needed flats.”

“We are at a golf course, not a fashion runway.” He was being unfair, but he wanted to get outside and take a walk. Being in her presence was messing with his head.

Alex stepped in. “Upstairs the supply room has begun taking in stock. Maybe you can find her a pair of women’s golf shoes?”

Frustration flowed through his body. He needed to escape. But he hid his feelings and said, “It’s worth a shot.”

Bridget said goodbye to everyone and he attempted to contain his impatience. Leading her away, they went up the stairs and he brought her into the professional shop.
 

“Do you know your size?”

“I’ve never worn golf shoes, but I’m a thirty-seven typically.”

Pulling out a box of shoes, he handed them to her. “A gift.”

She sat on a bench and reached down to remove her shoes. His blood pressure skyrocketed. He had seen her sexy stockings and knew what was underneath her skirt. How could he possibly work this way? It would be far simpler to send her to Breen.
 

Turning away from her, he made a point of checking out some of the other items that had come in. They would be able to open nine of the holes for golf within a few weeks.

“I’m ready.” She looked just as sexy in golf shoes.

He led her outside without saying anything. It was a warm day and the sun was overhead.

***

Bridget pushed away thoughts of kissing him. The erotic encounter at the park still had power over her, but she needed to erect firm barriers around her professional life. No good would come of letting down her guard and throwing herself into his arms. She had been given an opportunity to build her career and she couldn’t allow the past to drag her down.

“You are lost in thought.” His voice drew her back. William was impossibly sexy and was standing much to close.

She stepped away and took in a deep breath. “The changes here have surprised me. Can you give me a tour?”

He moved toward a cart.
 

“Could we walk? I have decent shoes now.”

“It would take longer, but I don’t see an issue.”
 

She didn’t want to sit next to him in the golf cart. She needed distance and a physical distraction.

“Are you an avid golfer?” He was athletic and had a tightly muscular body.

He was wearing reflective sunglasses so it was impossible to get a read on him. “I don’t play at a competitive level, but I’m considered adequate.”

She silenced her instinct not to ask personal questions. “What drew you to this place?”

They kept walking. “I was having a pint in Dublin and overheard a few men say this place was cursed. I had remembered coming here with my dad and playing the course a few times. It was where I learned to play.”

She stopped and turned to him. “So you knew this place was a challenge before deciding to invest? Or did that drive you to take a risk?”

“I’m not interested in methodical or easy. It’s one of the reasons I’m not drawn to Breen.”

They continued walking and she thought about his answer. Why did he seek out risks? Was it to prove his worth? Or did he enjoy the adrenaline rush? Olivia had told her that he was into extreme sports. The more difficult the better.

“I’m not sure that resurrecting Breen will be easy. Companies focused on the garment industry have tough competition in the global marketplace.”

“Nothing is certain, but the sheer size and scope of this project is daunting. I intend to breathe new life into it. I’d like to play this course occasionally and think of my father.”

His admission surprised her. It must have been tough to lose his father at such a young age. He had been seventeen years old and the media had discovered Olivia as the forgotten daughter. She’d read about his family after their brief encounter at the gala. She had been unfair to him, but the grief surrounding her own mother’s death had been on her mind and she had blamed Oliver Bolles in some tangential way. He had been the one to make a comment to her father about purchasing the old relic. Her father had insisted that the great Oliver Bolles must have some inside knowledge. The comment had led to years of struggle and disappointment for her family. The stress had been too much for her mother’s fragile health.

“So you have never played golf?”

She needed to hold on to some happy memories and not be sucked into a discussion about the struggle of this place. “No. As a small child my grandparents would take me to miniature golf, but that never translated to an actual love of the game.”

He laughed. “I don’t think mini putt putt courses qualify as golf.”

“Did you play miniature golf as a child?” She should probably stay away from questions about his childhood.

She waited for his answer, but her eyes were drawn to ocean in the distance.
 

“No. My father started taking me to actual golf courses at five years old. It didn’t matter that the age limit was seven or eight. No one told him no and I learned to play.”

Bridget realized she was enjoying herself. The sun was warm, but the wind coming through the course cooled everything. The course had changed tremendously and walking it with William gave her the chance to enjoy the slow pace of the day and collect her thoughts. This place didn’t hold the same power over her anymore. She no longer felt it had defeated her family. Somehow the changes and the intervening time had washed away the feelings of loss and defeat.
   

She could see that huge machines had changed the terrain. “That is an extreme sand pit.”

William looked over the landscape and ran a hand through his hair. “It needs to be challenging. For The Donne to survive, it has to become relevant again.”

She turned towards him. “So you are hoping to appeal to both the professionals and the tourists?”

He had a way of looking at her that made her thoughts about the business hard to access. “Hopefully the committed amateurs as well.” Everything about him was so intense and made her think of his qualities as a man and not the marketing campaign.

The sound of the machinery caught her attention. It had hit a solid surface and the engine sounded labored.

“There are gigantic rock formations just below the surface. We should head back or we will be late for lunch with your father.”