The Chosen Heir (The Bolles Dynasty Book 3) (12 page)

His voice rose and he threw up his hands. “And then not say something for all of these years? I’ve been living in Ireland for five years. I bought The Donne two years ago. My family couldn’t tell me the truth?”

There was no going back. He would need to face this. “If they owned a house here, then a servant or someone would have mentioned it to them.”

“I don’t know, but I’ll ask them about it.”

“You may find that you like Mary Blair and her child. It might be a good thing.”

“She may have remarried and want nothing to do with the Bolles name and will want to shield her child.”

“The boy must be eighteen or nineteen.”

“Your father said it was a boy?”

She nodded. “Nothing needs to happen today. Take some time and think about how to approach them. You don’t owe anyone an explanation. In the end, this is a reflection on your father, not on you.”

“I should go. I need to be alone.” They both stood up at the same time.

He reached forward and pressed his lips to hers in a fleeting kiss. “I appreciate your kindness around this. I’ll talk with you tomorrow.”

He was unguarded and vulnerable. Tomorrow he would regret that she saw him like this. It had to be painful. It reminded her of how horrible she had been to him when they had first met. Why did she expect so much from him? He was a Bolles but just a child when his father had caused so much heartache.

Chapter 7

 
A week later, Bridget got an early morning summons from William to meet him at the Breen Hat Company. She hadn’t seen him since their intense conversation. The Operations Manager had quit and the place was reported to be in turmoil. Walking the few blocks over to Breen, she questioned William’s strategy with the company. He had given them an influx of capital but hadn’t communicated with them in several weeks. Her days had been tied up working on the marketing plan for the golf resort with his executive team.

Deciding not to invade his privacy, she hadn’t asked him if he had made contact with his younger brother. William had extended an offer of employment to her father and he was busy organizing the pro shop.
 

Passing through the wrought iron gate by the side entrance, she saw William waiting for her. He was dressed in an exquisitely tailored suit that showcased his wealth and body. He wasn’t trying to put the owners of Breen at ease.

When she got close to him, he said, “We have to make a few decisions today. Apparently, Breen was unable to continue functioning without input from us.”

He seemed distracted and like he would rather not be here. It would be better if he gave her an idea of what he expected and then left it to her. “It does seem a little unfair to purchase the company and then not give them any indication of your future plans.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “They are not even on my radar. I have no plans. Hopefully you do.”

His reaction surprised her. She assumed he would micro-manage every decision, but he wanted to be let off the hook. “I haven’t thought of them much as The Donne has taken all of my attention, but I can throw myself into their issues if you would like.”

“Alex can take up the slack at The Donne. It would be helpful if you would spend some time here.”

“I need some direction from you.”

She met his gaze and had the feeling that he wasn’t thinking about the hat company. She wasn’t either. Stepping back, she waited for his answer.

“You know the overall investment. Basically they need to reorganize the main business functions so they are breaking even within the year. You will need to hire an operations manager.”

“Are you coming inside?” She stood waiting for his response.

“No. I’ll be back by six o’clock and will expect you to have managed the crisis and have a working plan. Call on the members of my executive team if you need them. We can talk about the specifics over dinner.”

She wanted to argue with him and insist he take more of a role, but she remained silent.
 

“Good luck. I’ll see you later.”

She turned away from him and went in search of the owners. It worried her. William was giving her too much freedom. She had attended the dinner in London and had met the couples that had placed their money with him. She helped him convince them that it was a good investment, revamping the Breen Hat Company. If the business didn’t turn around, they would lose their investment. The employees would lose their jobs as well. Why wasn’t William taking this more seriously?

The receptionist greeted her politely and, after calling upstairs, sent her up to Patrick Breen. The shop floor was oddly quiet and she felt her stomach tighten. Had others left as well?

Climbing the steel staircase, Bridget was careful not to catch her heels. She opened the fireproof steel door and walked into the run-down management office.

Patrick Breen, a small man with grey hair in his late sixties, greeted her. He led her into his office and closed the door.

“Thank you for coming, Ms. North. We have been waiting for someone to come and tell us what the plans are.”

She took a seat by his desk and waited for him to sit. There was an overflowing stack of papers and other items covering the entire desk. “I don’t think there is a plan yet. William Bolles has been caught up with another business and thought with an infusion of money that you would be able to handle everything for the time being.”

Patrick Breen shrugged. “I didn’t know how he wanted the money to be spent.”

Did they not handle their accounts or pay payroll? “What do you mean?”

Patrick sat behind the desk. “I couldn’t use it to pay payroll. What will happen when it runs out?”

She pulled a file out of her bag. It held the legal documents and she remembered seeing a schedule of disbursements. “The purpose of the money is to keep Breen afloat and only ten percent was disbursed. You should pay your workers.”

He wrung his hands. “The money is in the account. But without permission, we didn’t know to proceed. Should we cut salaries? What type of budget will be implemented?”

She stood up. They were a disaster. “You should instruct payroll to disburse any owed monies today according to the established pay rates and salaries. I’ll start working on a budget with your operations manager.”

“He left yesterday. He couldn’t take the stress.”

“Should I call him or would you rather hire someone else?”

“That is up to you, Ms. North.”

“No. I don’t know the person. William Bolles purchased Breen because it is a good, solid company that makes a quality product. He understands it will take time to resurrect the business, but you need to take a role in helping that happen.”

“I don’t know what to do or I would have done it.”

She kept her voice neutral. “Let’s get your operations manager back. Let him know payroll is guaranteed for the foreseeable future. I’ll assemble an executive management team meeting for Monday so decisions can be made. William is stopping in later today. Will that work?”

Patrick stood up and shook her hand. “Thank you, Ms. North.”

Breen needed new management. Patrick was not a leader and he was too worn out to have a vision. “I’m going to spend the day here and interview different employees. You should convince your operations manager to come in. I’ll use the conference room?”

William was throwing her to the wolves. He had her working nonstop on the marketing plan for The Donne and now he expected her to swoop in and solve the problems here. The issues were complicated by global economic pressures and not related to small adjustments in product or inventory. It was beyond her expertise.

She met with the accounting clerk and went over the vendor invoices that needed to be dealt with and then asked for a report of what Breen was owed by couture houses and boutiques. When she asked about marketing, she realized that they relied on word of mouth and reputation. Maybe she could make a difference in helping them promote themselves.

The overall attitude was somber and she was exhausted by being an optimistic cheerleader all day. William arrived at four thirty in the afternoon and the shop floor was desolate. Bridget was doing a walk-through with the owner and the operations manager, Brian Feeney, and watched him walk onto the shop floor. He didn’t look particularly happy. He had all the patience in the world for a failing golf course but wanted nothing to do with a garment manufacturer.

***

He hated this place. It reminded him of the old world. The older generations would make things by hand and the shop hadn’t updated with new processes or technology-driven machinery. It needed to be closed down, but neither Olivia nor Bridget would agree. He had called Olivia a few hours ago and she had given him her rationalization for keeping this place again.

Walking over to join Bridget with the owner and manager, he realized he had missed her today. He was getting used to her rapid-fire questions and her continual pitching of new concepts and ideas. The greatest challenge had been not showing any reaction to her physically. He was enjoying watching her fashionable parade of skirts and dresses. He had never taken an interest in women’s clothing, but she was different. Why was that? She was feminine and captivating with her curious looks and generous smile. Was it her slender body with those perfect breasts?
 

He looked forward to interacting with her throughout the day and watching her solve issues or negotiate tough decisions. She had earned the respect of his management team with her well-presented ideas. But if he had sex with her, she wouldn’t be taken seriously.
 

“William, this is Brian Feeney, the operations manager, and you already know the owner, Patrick Breen.”

“Gentleman.” He shook their hands and glanced at Bridget. Her feigned innocence didn’t fool him. She was judging his reaction. She was waiting for him to lose patience with their lack of leadership and enthusiasm.

“Why don’t we head to the conference room? I’d like to discuss a few ideas.” He placed a hand on her lower back and waited for the owner and manager to head upstairs.

He leaned towards her. “I would imagine you have a few ideas of your own.”

“I do, actually.” She held his gaze and he wanted to push her up against a nearby steel column and capture her mouth. But instead he moved away from her. He needed to refocus his mind or he would get upstairs and not have a coherent thought.

He decided not to sit down in the conference room. “Breen is a viable company. You have a sought after, high quality product in a niche market. However, your social media and marketing presence is nonexistent. You also need to update your shop floor. Ms. North will help you find the right consultant to drag Breen into this century and she will oversee the revamping of your marketing presence.”

His rant was met with silence. He didn’t look at Bridget. She would have to soften his words and slowly bring them along.

Patrick Breen began to explain why change was not a good idea and William silenced him with a movement of his hand. “This is not up for negotiation. If you want Breen to survive then you need to reinvent yourselves and the company. If it is beyond your capability, then resign.”

His words were met with silence. He was satisfied. “Ms. North? We have another engagement tonight.”

He shook both men’s hands and waited for her to gather her belongings.

Walking out she said, “That was harsh.”

He held the door for her. “I saved both of us hours of tedious conversation. Either they show a willingness to change or they will be gone.”

Her voice was matter of fact. “It needed to be approached in a gentler way. I know they need to change, but they have fifty or sixty years of combined experience. You can’t throw that away.”

Meeting her gaze, he said, “You can spend time speaking with them and slowly bringing them along. I have no interest.” In fact, he had other interests that he would much rather concern himself with.

He guided her to his Audi and decided to take her out to dinner. She was too much of a distraction to take her back to his place. He shouldn’t be alone with her.

It would have been easier if Olivia had not intervened. She had been interested in saving Breen, but he was beginning to consider if she had purposely thrown Bridget into his path. On the phone today, Olivia had sung her praises and let him know that anyone who let her go would be regretful.