Affair with the Rebel Heiress (2010) (9 page)

By the time he heard the phrase "gross incompetence" he was done waiting for Kitty to don her own boxing gloves. He stepped up to the microphone. "If there are any signs of gross incompetence, I haven't seen them. FMJ would not have invested this kind of money in a company whose leadership we questioned."

"Then is FMJ merely investing in Biedermann's?" a different reporter asked. "Or can we expect you to do your signature restructuring and complete overhaul?"

"We'll be announcing some very exciting things for the stores soon." He flashed his best charming smile. "I promise you this, within a year everyone in this room will be shopping at Biedermann's."

"And about rumors that this acquisition is fueled by a romantic relationship between you and Ms.
Biedermann?" This question was again from the annoying blond.

Ford shot Kitty a glance to see if she was finally going to light into the woman, only to see Kitty still had that deer-in-the-headlights look.

So he ducked his head and gave the reporters his most boyishly mischievous smile. "Well, you found me out. This is all just a ruse to ask Kitty Biedermann out on a date. I figured a techie geek from California like me wouldn't have a shot with a blue blood like Kitty Biedermann. Hell, I couldn't even get her to return my phone calls before." A chuckle rumbled through the audience of reporters. "But seriously, my relationship with Ms. Biedermann is purely professional. On my first night in town she took pity on me and allowed me to accompany her to the Children's Medical Foundation fundraiser. We attended as business colleagues."

"So you're not the father of her baby?"

"Ms. Biedermann's personal life is a private matter. Let's keep this about business."

And with that, Jonathon took the cue to wrap up the press conference. A few minutes later, Ford guided Kitty out the room and whisked her up to her office. By the time he had her alone, his shock had given way to anger.

"What the hell was that?" he asked even as he slammed the door shut behind them.

She spun around, her eyes wide. "What?"

"The way you behaved out there with the press. That's what."

"I don't know what you mean," she stammered.

She pressed a palm to her stomach as if to still the fluttering in her belly. He grabbed her by the wrist and held her hand out between them. "Look at you. You're shaking."

She jerked her hand away and thrust it behind her back. "So what if I am? Those things make me nervous."

"Yeah. I noticed. But that's no excuse for letting that reporter walk all over you."

Kitty glared at him. "What was I supposed to do?"

"You were supposed to defend yourself."

"How could I defend myself? She was badgering me with questions. There was nothing I could do."

"Kitty, I've watched you go toe-to-toe with a drunken rancher twice your size. Hell, every time we meet you try to rip me a new one. You know how to hold your own in a fight. That ninety-pound reporter shouldn't have had a chance."

She turned away, obviously searching for an explanation that would placate him. Finally she said simply, "That reporter was telling the truth."

"About us?" he asked. "We agreed what happened between us is nobody's business but our own. If you had a problem lying in a press conference, you should have told me that before--"

"Not about us," she interrupted. "About me." Again she turned away from him, but this time he sensed it was because she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. "All those things she said about me were true."

"Kitty--"

"About me being 'woefully unprepared.'" There was a disparaging sneer in her voice. "About my gross incompetence. It's all true."

He stared at the stiff lines of her back, barely comprehending her words. She looked like someone waiting to be hit.

For a moment he could only stare at her while he sorted through his confusion. "What do you mean? You're not incompetent."

"You only think that because I do such a good job hiding it. But I don't know what I'm doing. I wasn't prepared to run Biedermann's. The board never should have named me CEO."

"Kitty, being a CEO is a difficult job. People are rarely prepared for it. In your situation it was worse because your father's death was so unexpected and you were grieving for him. I'm sure it feels overwhelming. But that doesn't make you incompetent."

She glanced over her shoulder, sending him a watery smile. Where those
tears
in her eyes?

"You're not listening to me. No amount of preparation would have been enough. I'm just not smart enough."

And then he made his biggest mistake. He laughed.

She flinched. Exactly as if she'd been slapped. She was facing the windows again, so he didn't see her expression, but he would bet those tears were spilling down her cheeks by now.

He wanted to cross the room to her, take her in his arms and offer her comfort, but he knew that stubborn
pride enough to know she wouldn't want him to see her crying. He wouldn't add insult to injury by making her face him.

"Kitty, I'm sorry, but the idea that you're not smart is ridiculous."

"Ford--"

"I've listened to you verbally skewer just about everyone you talk to. You can work a crowd like no one I've ever seen. Anyone who can hold their own in a room full of wealthy socialites could not possibly be stupid. If you weren't smart, believe me, I'd have noticed by now."

She shot him an exasperated look. "Why are you arguing with me about this? When my father and grandmother were still alive, they protected me the best they could. When my father died unexpectedly, I should have had the sense to step aside. But I was selfish. I love this company more than anything. I thought that would be enough. But I only made a mess of things."

She seemed so dejected, so unlike her normal self, he reached out a hand to her, but she deftly slipped out of his reach.

"You mentioned at the press conference that you'd be doing some restructuring. If you really intend to do everything in your power to ensure Biedermann's is financially viable, then you'll fire me."

"W
hat the hell is up with Kitty?"

Ford cornered Casey looking for some answers. Casey glanced up from the pot of coffee she was making just as Ford shut the door to the break room.

Casey slanted him a look from under her shaggy bangs. "Do you mean, like, today? Or ever?"

The previous times he'd spoken to Casey, she'd impressed him as being little more than a surly reprobate. He'd wondered how such a girl had gotten a job at Biedermann's, let alone kept it. Nevertheless, the best way to get the dirt on someone was through his or her assistant. Besides, she seemed to be the only person Kitty might confide in.

So Ford flashed Casey a sympathetic smile. "Kitty must be pretty tough to work for, huh?"

The girl's characteristic frown darkened to a full-fledged glower as she shoved the coffeepot onto the heating element and flicked the on/off toggle. "If you're just looking to talk trash about Kitty, you'll have to find someone else. I'm not into that kind of negative bonding. This job's too important to me."

He held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I was just trying to be sympathetic."

"You were just trying to dig for information," Casey said shrewdly as she pulled a clean coffee mug from the cabinet.

"Maybe I was," he admitted, more than a little surprised by Casey's show of loyalty. Since the negative bonding Casey had accused him of obviously wasn't going to work, he decided to take a different tack. "Kitty's not always the most forthcoming person. I'm trying to figure her out. That doesn't make me the enemy."

Casey shot him a suspicious look, but said nothing as she poured cream and then sugar into the mug. She sent an equally dark look at the coffeemaker, which was gurgling slowly. Poor girl was obviously torn between her need for caffeine and her desire to storm out in a huff.

"I'm trying to help her. But I can't do that unless I understand what's going on. Something's--"

"You're trying to get her fired."

"I'm not." Hell, that was the last thing he wanted. Keeping Kitty employed and well taken care of
would at least minimize his guilt. "I'm trying to save her job. But she's not giving me anything to work with. She's--"

"She's too proud," Casey said quietly, without meeting his gaze.

"Exactly." Encouraged by the lack of belligerence in Casey's tone, he pressed on. "Do you have any idea why she would think I should fire her?"

"She said that?" Casey's voice held a note of panic.

Wasn't that interesting. "You're really worried about her losing her job."

"Hey, I know what people around here think. That she's such a b--" Casey broke off and seemed to be considering the hazards of cussing in front of the man who was ultimately her boss. "Such a witch--" she corrected "--to work for that I'm the best she can get. But it's not like that."

Ford said nothing. He'd wondered himself how exactly a surly, semicompetent girl like Casey had landed a prime job like the assistant to the CEO of a major company.

"She's the best boss I ever had," Casey continued. "And if I lost this job, I'm guessing I'd lose the scholarship, too."

"The scholarship?"

"Yeah. The scholarship that pays tuition for community college for all Biedermann employees. 'Cause there's no way I could pay for college on my own. I'd have to drop out of HCCC."

"Oh. That scholarship."

He'd read just about everything on Biedermann company policy, and he'd never heard of an employee scholarship. Which made him think Kitty was paying for this girl's college out of her own pocket. Kitty, who'd had to sell her home and had auctioned off family heirlooms, was paying the tuition of this ill-mannered, unskilled girl.

Was Kitty...
softhearted?
It was easier to imagine the Dalai Lama sponsoring an Ultimate Fighting match.

But what other explanation was there?

He shoved a hand through his hair. Damn it, why did she have to be so full of contradictions? Why did she have to be fragile one moment, all bristly defenses the next? Why couldn't she just be the manipulative witch that everyone thought she was? That would make his life so much easier.

If he ever wanted to be free of Kitty and all the complicated emotions she stirred up, he was going to have to find a way to save Biedermann's. And save Kitty's job.

And apparently Casey's job, too.

"Look," he said to Casey. "I'm trying to do the right thing here. Not just for the company, but for Kitty, too. If you help me out, if you help me understand what's going on here, I'll make sure you don't lose your job. Or your scholarship."

Even if he had to start paying the girl's tuition himself. And wouldn't that be just great. 'Cause all he needed in his life was one more woman dependent on him.

Casey pursed her lips and studied him. "What do you want to know?"

"Kitty told me her father never expected her to run Biedermann's. Do you know why?"

Casey shook her head. "No. I never met the old man, 'cause I was hired after he died. But office gossip is he always wanted her to marry someone who'd take over as CEO. You ask me, it's why that skeezie Marty is so mean to her."

"You think Marty expected to be made CEO?"

She shook her head, pouring coffee into her mug now that the maker had finally stopped dripping. "Haven't you noticed that icky way he looks at her? Like she's his golden lottery ticket or something. I think he wanted to marry her himself." Casey jabbed her coffee with a spoon and gave it a brisk stir. "That guy creeps me out."

Ford felt a sucker punch of jealousy. He struggled to bury it. Kitty's love life wasn't his business. Or so he kept telling himself. Still, he found himself asking, "Did she and Marty ever go out?"

That was not him giving in to his curiosity. If Marty was smarting from a broken heart, that might be motivation enough for him to make things unpleasant for Kitty. He might even be leaking information about Kitty to Suzy Snark.

"Naw." Casey waved her hand, dismissing the possibility. "Kitty wouldn't stoop that low." But then Casey tilted her head to the side, considering. "But Marty isn't, you know, smart about women. And you know what Kitty's like. Marty might have thought she was hitting on him."

Ford had to stifle a groan. Yes, he did know what Kitty was like. She used her beauty and sensuality like a defensive shield. Whenever someone got too close, she'd turn into Kitty the vamp. Had she accidentally hit Marty with that overblown charm of hers? Had she crushed his expectations, and somehow turned a man who should have been her friend into an enemy?

"Ah, Kitty," he murmured half under his breath. "Maybe you really are stupid."

Beside him, Casey stiffened. "Hey, that's just mean."

"No, wait," he jumped in to correct her. "I didn't mean--"

"She's not stupid, she's dyslexic, and if you don't know the difference then you're the idiot."

"She's dyslexic?" Ford barely heard Casey's words as shock spiraled through him.

Dyslexic?
Kitty was
dyslexic?

"She hides it well, right? I guess when you have a disability like that, you're used to dealing--" Casey broke off and did a visible double take. "Wait a sec. You didn't know?"

Guilt flashed across Casey's face, but then she turned and scurried from the room, cupping the mug in both hands, shoulders hunched defensively.

What did he even know about dyslexia? He'd gone to high school with some kids with dyslexia, one of whom had gone on to become a rather famous jazz musician. Ford hadn't kept in touch with Steve, but they'd been friends in school and he remembered how much trouble Steve had had learning.

Suddenly Ford remembered things Kitty had said or done that hadn't made sense before now. In all the meetings they'd been to together, whenever someone handed out information, she'd never even look at it. Proposals, contracts, synopses, whatever. She'd just slip it into her leather folio without so much as a glance. Her behavior gave the impression of careless disregard for the work of others. But that wasn't it at all.

And what was that she'd said once? Something about listening to books about business. Not reading them. Listening to them.

If she had trouble reading, her job would be nearly impossible. Add to that the possibility that she may have inadvertently offended her CFO.

He thought about his own relationship with Jonathon. At FMJ, he, Jonathon and Matt functioned more as a triumvirate than their titles would imply. Still, he'd be unable to do his job as CEO without Jonathon. Their relationship and their success stemmed from their absolute trust.

No wonder Kitty was floundering as the head of Biedermann's.

Ford broke into a quick jog to chase after Casey, who was now halfway down the hall. "Hey, hold up."

Casey rounded on him, her expression hardened into protective defiance. "You can't say anything to her about this."

"Of course I'm going to talk to her about it."

"You can't," Casey pleaded in a whisper. "If she finds out I told you, she'll fire me! She's totally
crazy about hiding it. I'm not even supposed to know."

"Then she didn't tell you herself?"

"No way." Casey sent a furtive glance down either end of the hall as if she expected corporate spies to be lurking around every corner.

"So you figured it out on your own."

"Yes." Casey started walking again, apparently satisfied that no one was listening in on their conversation. "Like, my interview for the job was a dead giveaway. She didn't care if I could type or use a computer or anything. She just had me read aloud. And that's pretty much my whole job. Every time she goes to get her nails done or to get a massage, she has me come along to read to her."

Which explained why Kitty spent so much time at the spa. What had she called it? A coping mechanism.

He remembered what she'd said about how appearances were everything. No wonder she didn't want anyone knowing she had a learning disability. Unfortunately all the things she'd done to protect herself ending up making things worse.

Casey sent him a pleading look. "You're not going to tell her all of this, are you?"

"I have to."

He felt like he finally understood her. He only hoped it wasn't too late to help her.

Just when Kitty thought her day couldn't get any worse, Ford showed up at her apartment. Again.

She stood with her hand on the edge of the door,
glaring at Ford through the foot-and-a-half gap between the door and the jamb. "Let me guess, some idiot in the building let you in again."

"It was a different guy this time. But he'd watched the press conference and I convinced him we really were in love and just didn't want anyone to know it."

"What is it with you sneaking into my building?"

"It's nothing personal. I just didn't think you'd let me up."

"I wouldn't have. Probably because I didn't want to see you. Funny how that works, isn't it?"

She couldn't really blame her fellow tenants for being unable to keep Ford out of her building when she couldn't keep him out of her mind. He was a charming bastard, that was for sure. She'd always thought of herself as an expert at manipulating men. So why was it none of her tricks worked with him? Worse still, why was his persistence so appealing?

That was the real problem. Not that he wouldn't leave her alone, but that she didn't want him to. She moved to shut the door in his face, wishing she could block out her feelings as easily.

But he blocked her with his foot in the door. "Why didn't you tell me you were dyslexic?"

Her stomach clenched at his words as a wash of chilly panic flooded her. How had he found out? It was a secret she'd kept her whole life. The one she'd done everything to protect. She'd been prepared to resign from Biedermann's rather than talk about it. And he'd found out anyway.

Damn him. Why couldn't he just stay neatly in her past the way one-night stands were supposed to? She shoved aside all her emotions, burying them deep in her belly, pretending they didn't rise up in the acid of her sarcasm.

"Why didn't I tell you I was dyslexic?" she repeated. "The question is, why would I? It's completely irrelevant and frankly no one's business."

He reached out a hand as if he were going to pull her into his arms, but she deftly avoided his grasp. She'd been staying one step ahead of intimacy her entire adult life. Why should he be any different?

He clenched his jaw, staring her down with his hands propped on his hips. His very body presented a formidable line of offense. "You should have said something."

"I hardly even notice it," she lied, moving to the far end of the room before turning and circling back. "You have a birthmark on your shoulder. We've never talked about that, either."

"I wasn't about to resign over my birthmark."

"Well, maybe you should," she said glibly. "It's hardly your best feature."

"Stop it."

She stilled, taken aback by the edge in his voice as much as his words. Glancing around, she realized she'd made a complete circuit of the living room and now stood before him once again. She was back where she'd started.

Sometimes her whole life felt like that. As if she was
going in circles, always moving, always pretending she was making progress, but never getting anywhere.

Tears burned her eyes as she felt her throat close off. God, she would not do this. She would
not
cry in front of him.

It was bad enough when she'd done it at the office. When she'd had the excuse of the stress of the press conference to fall back on. She wouldn't do it again.

She tried to move past him, to just keep moving. As she always did. Because moving in circles was better than standing still, even if she wasn't getting anywhere.

But he snagged her arm as she walked by. He turned her to face him. "You don't have to pretend this doesn't matter to you. You don't always have to be so tough."

She laughed; it sounded bitter and unpleasant even to her ears. "You can't possibly understand what my life has been like. Do you have any idea how many people would love to see me fail?"

He studied her for a minute, clearly considering her words. "Have you ever considered that there might be just as many people who'd like to see you succeed?"