The Chosen Heir (The Bolles Dynasty Book 3) (2 page)

He lowered his voice. “Then have a drink with me afterwards.”

She shook her head. “I’ll be needed to help with the closeout.”

He smiled at her. “I’ll wait.”

She nodded and he turned his attention to Olivia, who appeared on the stage.

Olivia’s voice sounded stressed. “Will. Thank you. I’m sorry that this is being thrown on you at the last minute.”

“I hope Addy makes a quick recovery.” He hugged his sister and could feel her anxiety.

“I’d rather be home but this event needs to come together.”

They discussed the flow and introductions. William was on edge. He rolled his shoulders and allowed others to give him directions, keeping up a lively banter with the guests coming into the room.
 

He ignored the chaos happening backstage and stepped into the spotlight. The audience gave a loud applause and he quieted the room. The introductions were flawless and then he began to announce each gown and called out the top bidder. Set off to the side was a table recording the bids and keeping track of the purchases.

After more than an hour, the last gown was purchased and he turned over the podium to the director of the charity.

***

Bridget was worn out. The day had started before the sun had properly risen and it was nearly eleven at night. Helping to box up the sold gowns, she hoped William Bolles hadn’t waited around for her. She wanted to get back to her aunt’s flat and fall into bed. The day had been difficult. It was the fifth anniversary of her mother’s death and she was feeling nostalgic.
 

She marked the package with the correct bidder number and brought it up front for the address to be properly written on it. It was odd—she had formed a close friendship with her employer, Olivia Bolles, but could never quite remove the resentment she had towards her father, Oliver Bolles. Maybe it was because Olivia hadn’t been raised by him so Bridget was able to forgive the past, but William Bolles was another story. He had been raised by Oliver and was his chosen heir. Oliver Bolles had abandoned his daughters but had spent considerable time with his only son. It was only natural to assume that he had taken on the man’s poisonous morals and behaviors.
 

Anna walked over to her. “If that was the last gown, then you are free to go. Olivia left a short time ago and I have staff to finish the clean-up.”

“Thank you. I can’t wait to climb into bed.”

Glancing around the ballroom, she noticed the opulent setting had lost its magic. There were an army of staff taking apart the tables and the runway. William Bolles was nowhere to be seen. He must have decided not to wait after all.

Crossing the hotel foyer, she heard her name called. Turning around, she saw him leaning on a marble column. He looked polished and masculine in his formal suit. She had seen his photograph often enough, but somehow he was more intense and masculine in the flesh. His blue gaze held her steady and she willed her body not to respond to him. The press labeled him as athletic and sexy. His body seemed to be sculpted out of marble and he kept his blond hair clipped short.
 

“I thought you would have given up on me.” Why did she say that to him?

He gave her a charming smile. “Not a chance, Ms. North.”

“I believe we agreed to one drink?” She wanted to escape his presence. She hadn’t cared for Oliver Bolles and knew that sentiment would carry over to his son.

“If you are hungry, I’m happy to provide a meal.”

He motioned to the hotel bar and she found herself following him to a secluded table.

The server took their drink order and a silence fell over the table.

What could she possibly say to William Bolles? He was Olivia’s brother and she would never want to offend her employer. Olivia had always been kind to her. “You saved the evening.”

He gave her an enigmatic smile. “That is the role of a brother, to step in and rescue the evening.”

Bridget smoothed the fabric of her gown covering her legs. “I’m an only child so I’ve never had the luxury of a sibling rushing in and saving the day.”

“Luckily for you, you are rather capable on your own.”

An unkind thought crossed her mind. She had to be tough and capable because Oliver Bolles had helped pushed her family into bankruptcy.

“Have I done something to offend you?” His perceptive question caused a shiver to run down her spine. How could he possibly know her inner thoughts?

The server brought over their cocktails and slipped away.

She took a sip of her martini. “Why would you ask me that?”

He reached out and lightly touched her hand. “There is an edge to you when you look at me but I’ve noticed with other people you’re friendly and approachable.”

She decided to tell him the truth. “Being famous, you must be used to people knowing who you are and having an opinion about your life.”

William took a swallow of his martini. “Ah. So it is nothing personal, but you are not a fan of the Bolles name.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. I work for Olivia and know Anna fairly well.”

He held her gaze and her stomach plummeted. “It’s me then.”

“No. I didn’t care for your father.” She wouldn’t whitewash the truth for him. His father hurt many innocent bystanders with his lies and manipulations.

He took another swallow of his drink. “My father has been dead for years. You couldn’t have been much more than a child when he was alive.”

She touched the stem of her martini glass. “I’d rather not drag up bad memories. Suffice it to say that I don’t have any respect for the way he lived his life.”

She had gone too far; she could see it in the way he held his body rigid. Wasn’t he used to perfect strangers disparaging his father? Maybe it wasn’t fair. He wasn’t responsible for how his father had lived.

“You appear to be making a point of some sort. Why don’t you come out and tell me what you are accusing my dead father of?”

She shook her head. They were supposed to be having a drink to celebrate a successful evening, not getting lost in some long ago perceived wrong.

“I’ve said too much. I should go.” Bridget gathered her evening bag and stood up.

“On the contrary, you haven’t voiced your accusation yet.”

She had made a mistake. He was Olivia’s brother and he would tell his sister about the conversation. She would never want to make Olivia feel badly about her estranged father.

He reached out, grasping her bare arm, and she could feel a spark reach her heart. “Bridget?”

She couldn’t hold her accusation inside. “Oliver Bolles had given my father a piece of investment advice years ago. Unfortunately, that piece of advice led my father to financial ruin. I blame your father for playing with other people’s lives and not caring about shoddy or irresponsible recommendations.”
 

His gaze narrowed. “Do you expect me to make some type of retribution to your family?”

“Of course not.” Bridget pulled out of his grasp. “It’s too late, anyway. The past can’t be undone.”

The tone of his voice remained calm and controlled. “Maybe you are wrong about your assumptions? It is possible that there are elements of the story that you don’t know?”

“I’m not wrong about your father. He was a deceitful and horrible man.” Why was she so reactive?

“Be careful, love. That type of righteous judgment doesn’t serve anyone well.”

Walking out on shaking legs, she reminded herself to push away her grief. She needed to get her emotions under control. Going to church early that morning with her aunt had been a mistake. It had created a sense of longing for her mother and made her spend the day thinking about all of the regrets surrounding her teenage years. While it was true that her father had invested all of their savings into a failing golf course based on advice from Oliver Bolles, it was also true that her father had a role to play in the debacle. Thomas North was a dreamer and even being forced into bankruptcy hadn’t changed him.

Bridget flagged down a taxi and could feel tears threaten as she slid into the backseat and gave the address to her aunt’s flat. Why had she let William Bolles get to her? She had dealt with her past years ago and didn’t want to fall back into the despair and anger. It was bad enough that she had been hugely attracted to him but allowing him to cause her to emotionally react had been a mistake. It would be best if she could stay clear of him in the future.
   

Chapter 1
 

William Bolles glanced around the conference room and saw defeat. It permeated all aspects of the discussion. Purchasing this resort to the south of Dublin had been a bad investment. If he were being honest with himself, it was a sentimental investment.

Leaning back in the leather conference chair, he observed Jeremy trying to justify the recent expenditures, then glance around the room for a lifeline. Unfortunately, no one was coming to his rescue. He expected more of his management team. At the very least, they should stick together.

He kept his voice neutral. “By your own estimations, this project has cost overruns exceeding a million pounds in the prior four weeks alone.”

Jeremy loosened his tie slightly. “Yes, well. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but the terrain is impossible. You must know that. There is nothing but rock.”

“Jeremy, if you are unable or unwilling to get these costs under control then I’m going to replace you on this project. You are allowing the local vendors to take advantage.”

Alex, his right-hand man, intervened. “With all due respect, William, they have refused to work for a set amount, instead insisting that we pay for machine time. The terrain is rocky and unpredictable.”

William turned toward the window and looked out at the expansive lawns. Years ago, his father had taken him to this shabby resort and they had spent countless hours learning how to approach each hole.
 
This course had been a premier location decades ago. It had fallen into disrepair and needed more than essential updates; it needed a complete redesign.

He ran a hand through his hair. He refused to give up. The course could be brought back to life.

Standing up, he turned back to his management team. “Gentleman, we knew turning this golf course around was going to take huge sums of money and the willingness to accept risk. And yes, it is out of our usual comfort zone.”

Arlo, the member of his team who couldn’t be mollified, said, “We could lose our shirts on this deal. It’s not worth it. We should cut our losses and move on.”

The men at the table murmured agreement.

Shaking his head, he said. “No. If we walk away now then we will lose millions. We need to change tactics. Let’s interview more experts.”

Arlo stood up. “It’ll muddy the water, Will. They don’t know how to make this old relic profitable again. Times have changed. No longer can we count on families to travel to a local resort. They all want to go to the Mediterranean or Belize.”

He had overextended his company to acquire the resort, but he would not run from the accelerating costs. He would stay and fight. “We are not trying to reclaim the past. We are attempting to make the course worthy of the European Tour.”

Alex said, “It’s impossible. They are refusing to even visit until the course is ready.”

“It’s not impossible, Alex. All of you. You need to dig deeper. We will not allow a golf resort to defeat us. When we bought this property two years ago, I recall there were a few locals that had attempted to resurrect it. Get in touch with them.”

Jeremy waved his hands in surrender. “That’s a bad idea. We bought this property for a song after they lost their life savings on it. I can’t imagine they know anything more than we do.”

William closed his laptop. “If you have lost faith in the experts, then reaching out to the locals is the next logical step. Go back over the history. Set up a meeting. I’m going to London for a fortnight, but when I return I want new ideas.”

Merle said, “One of the three previous owners died recently. I believe another is in America, but I can reach out to Thomas North. He has stopped by a few times.”

After a few more minutes of discussion, William left his management team to review the work in progress and reminded them to email him a financial report at the end of the week.