The Chosen Heir (The Bolles Dynasty Book 3) (4 page)

William headed to his office and, instead of dealing with other pressing business issues, he delved into the information that was available on the family-owned hat company. His sisters idolized him. He was the stand-in for their father. They needed him to prove that the Bolles name was worthy of respect and the legacy was real. Even if he knew taking on a garment manufacturer was a bad idea. His own business network was in trouble and he needed to focus on stemming the flood of money, not proving to the world and his sisters that the Bolles name meant something.
 

The idea of seeing Bridget North again kept popping up in his thoughts. It felt as if there was unfinished business between them.
 

Chapter 2

The next morning he waited at the station for Bridget North. Would she mention their harsh words or pretend it never happened? Even recalling the memory now brought a new wave of anger to the surface. He had been drawn to her and asked her to have a drink. Unfortunately, she had revealed that she had no respect for his father or the way he had conducted his life.
 

He should have been prepared for the verbal assault; it had happened countless times over the years. How could Ms. North possibly know anything about his father? He had been dead for seventeen years and Ms. North couldn’t have been more than a child when he was alive.
 

He watched her get off the train and in an unconscious gesture push back her long brown hair. She wore a stylish grey fitted dress with a small belt and he remembered why he was drawn to her. She was sexy in a slim, graceful way and looked approachable, even friendly. Only he had discovered that the polished Ms. North had a sharp tongue and a heightened sense of fair play. She’d made it quite clear she had not approved of the caviler way that his father had lived his life. No doubt that judgement would extend to him as well.

***

Bridget turned on her four-inch heels and looked down the station. She caught sight of William Bolles leaning against a wrought iron fence and sternly reminded herself not to show the slightest reaction. Of course she recognized him. His face was seared into her mind a year ago when he attempted to chat her up at a gala for underprivileged youth. He was charming and daring. For some odd reason, she hadn’t wanted to reject him. He had been unexpectedly good natured and playful. But he had been raised by Oliver Bolles and undoubtedly had issues with integrity and the truth.

Bridget had had enough of fly-by-night dreamers who only cared about the next big scheme. Even now with her mother gone, she was supporting her father in a crappy little studio flat over a pub. She could barely afford her own living expenses in London while trying to save her father. She had Oliver Bolles to thank for the years and years of hardship and struggle.

She held out her hand. “Mr. Bolles, I’m Bridget North. I believe we met last year at a gala in London.”

He rose to his full height and firmly grasped her hand while saying, “Will, please. It seems we will be spending the next couple of days together in a discovery process.”

She removed her hand and grudgingly said, “Will.”

“Mr. Bolles is a tad formal for someone who shredded my offer of a meal a year ago.”

Her gaze shot up and she met blue eyes full of curiosity. “I’m not sure I remember it quite that way.”

“Your exact words were
I’m not wrong about your father. He was a deceitful and horrible man.
” His gaze narrowed. “It is curious that you work for my sister Olivia Grey Bolles. Obviously your condemnation of the Bolles family doesn’t extend to her.”
 

She had expected him to pretend that the conversation never happened, not address it word for word. She had been too harsh. But her resentment lingered around the edges of her subconscious, no matter how hard she tried to forget the past. Her father was a destroyed man because of Oliver Bolles. And now by some twist of fate, she was pushed into working with his son. She couldn’t easily say no to Olivia, but she hoped that William Bolles would refuse to be bothered with a hat company. She doubted he was interested in fashion.

“Working for your sister in the fashion industry is far different than the financial services your father was involved in.”

***

He watched her explain herself and disdain fell over him like a cloak. She had sexy curves that would tempt any man, but her razor sharp tongue would cause any mere mortal to bleed.
 

He had too many skeletons in his closet. Most, if not all of them, were his beloved father’s misdeeds or lies, but he didn’t need to invite in a righteous marketing executive that had no idea of how difficult it was to carry the Bolles name. Taking on the family business and inheritance had made him a target for all those who hadn’t dared to challenge his father when he was alive but, now that he was gone, had no remorse when attempting to tarnish his reputation. Bridget North was no different.

William stepped back as she raked her gaze over him. She readjusted her overnight bag on her shoulder and waited for him to lead the way. He liked the look of her. She dressed in high fashion, but it was understated and polished instead of outrageous. Her face held a trace of cosmetics, but it was subtle. He couldn’t allow her physical attributes to sway him though. She would be too much trouble.

He met her gaze and lowered his voice. “Before we start off I must warn you that you can keep your opinions about my father to yourself. If you are not able to do so, I’ll send you home.”

She gasped in surprise. “I can’t imagine a discussion about Oliver Bolles will come up. But you should know that I always tell the truth. Even if it is difficult to hear.”

He ran a hand through his short hair. “The ability to tell the truth is an asset, but giving unsolicited and unfounded opinions about something you know nothing about is not.” He walked away from her and expected her to follow.

He led her to his metallic Porsche and stood back as she tried to fit her overnight bag in the small space that was designated as a back seat.

Climbing into the low sports car, he brought the engine to life and tried to block out her enchanting perfume. Being in the fashion industry, she knew how to make herself irresistible. But he would resist her. Instead he thought about the strained conversation he had with Stella. She had accused him of being indifferent and not willing to share his life with anyone. She was right. He had grown up with parents that made it impossible to believe in a happy, normal relationship. Even though his sisters had found love, he didn’t see it in the future for himself. Women were interested in his wealth or position in society, but they wouldn’t want to take on his insane family. Especially his mother. She would shred any woman who dated him, given the chance. She certainly brought him misery.

Bridget turned to him. “Have you looked into the history of the Breen Hat Company?”

“I did some research last night.” What did she expect of him? It was only yesterday Olivia had sprung the idea on him.

Bridget tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve had several conversations with the owner, Patrick Feeney. He hoped Olivia would be tempted to purchase the company.”
 

He wasn’t sure if Olivia’s staff knew that she was expecting. “She does love the product.”

Bridget was looking out the window. “Yes, but now that she will have a third child, it does seem like too much to take on running a failing company in a different country.”

“Not to mention the economy is not favorable to Irish products when labor overseas is far cheaper.” He should rein in his opinions. He didn’t want to upset Olivia and he needed to be the one to deliver the news to her.

Bridget glanced at him. She seemed to keep some thoughts to herself. “There is a tremendous amount of tradition and culture related to the garment business. When I was growing up, everyone’s grandmother was a seamstress and the skills were something to be proud of.”

He downshifted and moved into another lane. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. It’s important that we don’t give away our thinking. We need to keep them on edge and ask tough questions.”

Her voice softened. “They are probably stressed out. They are about to lay off employees that have been with them their entire working life.”

He needed her to be tough. “Where is the sharp-tongued truth teller?”

Bridget crossed her arms. “Excuse me?”

He was being a tad unfair but couldn’t resist. “I thought you liked to challenge others and insist on knowing the truth.”

The sound of her voice soothed him. “I know the truth. The company is failing both from circumstances beyond their control and an unwillingness to try new strategies. I’m familiar with their presence in the marketplace and have visited the factory before.”

He needed to reign in his thoughts but said, “So you are only merciless while trying to get to the truth if the Bolles name is involved?”

After a slight pause, she said “I’m sorry if my comments a year ago offended you.”

He didn’t want her apology. He didn’t need the complication of taking a look at the Breen Hat Company.

The faster she was back on a train to London, the better it was for both of them. “You are not on a mission of discovery but one to convince me to invest?”

“Olivia thought I could help you understand the company and the market. But I do feel sympathy for the employees. They must be feeling dazed and anxious.”

He slowed for a red light. “So Olivia has saddled me with an insider?”

She turned towards him. “I don’t work for Breen, but I’m sympathetic. I’m hoping that some type of agreement can be forged that will allow them to keep operating.”

William pulled into the parking area for employees. “During this visit, you are under my direction. You are not to offer hope to anyone and you are to ask tough questions.”

Olivia had set him up. She wanted him to act as the knight in shining armor and had selected Bridget to further the cause. But he wouldn’t allow anyone to dictate his business choices. If he couldn’t find a reason to invest, he would walk away. Even if his sister was momentarily upset.

He waited for Bridget to climb out of the car and watched as she straightened her dress and placed her large handbag over her shoulder.

“I don’t know that you need your handbag. I’m locking the car if you want to leave it.”

The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. “It has a notebook and relevant files.”

He gestured to the side entrance of the building and followed her. Stepping inside the factory reminded him of Old Dublin. The brick building had to be two hundred years old and the factory-style windows were placed high enough that air could flow but employees couldn’t see out. Beyond the reception area, he could see a vast cavern of sewing equipment and other machinery. There were more than fifty employees.

***

It was darker than she remembered. Maybe it was the absence of lighthearted banter. The employees were busy at each work station but missing was the carefree attitude. It would be so much better if William could see everyone at their best.
 

“We have a meeting with the owner, Patrick Breen.”

The receptionist nodded and picked up an old, outdated phone and called upstairs.

“Mr. Breen is expecting you. Do you know the way?”

Bridget nodded. “Thank you, Frannie. It’s good to see you.”

Walking through the wooden gate, she waited a moment for William.
 

She led him through the shop floor, paying attention to the marked pathway on the cement. It was obvious that the employees knew of their visit and greeted them as they passed by.

William stopped and inspected a bowler hat. The man at the station was shaping the hats and said to him, “It’s one of the finest wool hats on the market today.”

“I can see that by the fine workmanship.” He placed the hat back on the stack.

He was difficult to understand. Treating the employee with respect, he hadn’t come off aloof or unconcerned. But judging from their discussions so far, she was convinced he wouldn’t agree to invest. He would look for a token reason to refuse Olivia.

At the far end of the factory, she led him up a steel staircase. She could feel his gaze on her as she walked in front of him. Was he attracted to her? Reminding herself not to be insane, she hurried up the stairs.

When they reached the fireproof steel door at the top of the stairs, William placed a hand on her arm and turned her to him.