The Chosen Heir (The Bolles Dynasty Book 3) (6 page)

An image of Bridget North permeated his usually focused mind. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake by hiring the young but rather savvy marketing executive. The issues at the golf resort needed to be solved so he could stabilize his burgeoning investment company. His shareholders were patient, but two years of losses was enough. He had no intention of going in front of the group in nine months and having to explain another loss.
 

The crew at the small, private airstrip met him on the runway. They handed him the keys to his rental car and would take care of all the required checks of the aircraft.

“We will see you in few days, Mr. Bolles.”

He traveled with only a briefcase and thanked the crew before heading to the car.

Driving into London, he thought about his sister, Anna. He had yet to meet his infant nephew, Oliver Martin, Anna’s second child and now the namesake of his dead and disgraced father. Why would his sister saddle her son with their father’s name? His mother had been livid. It brought back the heated scandal of his father’s infidelity with Elizabeth Harris. But Anna and Alistair hadn’t worried about any of that. They moved forward and named the boy Oliver.

At least his mother had refused to come; that would make the occasion a little easier to bear. Having Diane dressed in all black and standing off in the distance didn’t help family relations. Mostly his sisters felt sympathy for him but occasionally would insist he do something about his bitter and vengeful mother. And Anna’s mother, Elizabeth Harris, was not above creating a scene. Olivia was the only one of them lucky enough not to have to deal with insane relatives. Being an orphan had a few advantages.

William managed the rush hour traffic and parked in an underground garage. His flat in London had been recently renovated and he was looking forward to seeing the work. He had purchased the flat five years ago when Anna had married. It made sense to have a home base in London, but he had barely used it.

His assistant had come to London a week ago and unpacked his clothing and cycling equipment. He also made sure the flat would have a chef on call and a housekeeping service coming daily. He had planned to have a few dinners while in London and hoped to be able to introduce Bridget North to his contacts.

Opening the ornate door, he glanced around the modern space. The architect had removed walls and opened up the now light-filled space. It was decorated in muted grey tones with large black-and-white photographs adorning the far walls. The view was captured by the beautiful city sprawled out in front of him. It was flawless.

He changed into cycling gear and carried his bike onto the service elevator, getting off on the main floor. The doorman nodded to him as he walked through the lobby of the exclusive building. Stepping onto the sidewalk, he attached the front wheel and checked over the frame before putting on his helmet. He ignored the passersby in suits glancing at him. He needed to expunge the excess energy from his body. Checking his phone to start the circuit, having mapped out a fifty-kilometer ride through the city and beyond, he climbed onto the cycle and merged into traffic. He had two hours before he was expected at Olivia’s for a family dinner.

***

Bridget checked the time again. It was after nine o’clock at night and she was trying to finish the last of her projects. She had met with Olivia twice in the last few days and decided it would be unwise to refuse her generous offer. The company was giving her a generous bonus for her willingness to assist with the Breen Hat Company and a contract for her return in a year. It didn’t make sense that she wanted to refuse the offer. The money was enormously helpful and would allow her to purchase a small cottage for her father. It would allow him to have some security.
 

Olivia and her aunt had assured her that the career move she was making would only enhance her CV. So why was she so reluctant?
 

It had to do with William Bolles. He was so sure of himself. He only had to snap his fingers and everyone acquiesced. She didn’t want to be put in the position of answering to him. It was for a year. She should be able to survive and she planned on keeping herself busy.

Her mobile buzzed.
Are you free to meet for a drink?
OXO Tower Bar
at 10:00.

Bridget sighed deeply. She would be finished but had no desire to meet William Bolles for a drink tonight. Instead she wanted to feel sorry for herself. Go home to her aunt’s flat and eat ice cream from the pint container.

She texted back,
see you then
.

Finishing her work, she left the building and waved to security. Whether she wanted it to or not, her life was about to change radically. When she had phoned her father during her lunch break, he was overjoyed by the news. She smiled to her herself; at least he would be happy.

She had dressed up for her last day. She wouldn’t look out of place at OXO Tower Bar. For cocktails with a view, it was one of the best spots in London. Olivia Grey Designs had hosted several functions there.
 

Getting out of the elevator, her gaze drifted over to the expansive windows and she looked out over the river Thames at Saint Paul's Cathedral and the London skyline. She didn’t want to leave London. Why did William Bolles insist on basing himself away from one of the financial capitals of the world?
 

***

He watched her look out at the view and not for him. Olivia had made a comment at dinner that Bridget would miss being in London and didn’t seem overly keen to work in Ireland for a year. He had discovered something else interesting about Ms. North. She was the daughter of one of the previous owners of the Donne Golf Club. Could this have been the reason she had disparaged his father? It didn’t make sense. His father hadn’t been involved in the purchase or restoration. He had been dead for more than five years when Thomas North along with two partners had attempted to resurrect the Donne. They had enough money to purchase it but not to do any upgrades. It slowly sank into bankruptcy.

She scanned the bar obviously looking for him and when he caught her gaze, his body reacted. She wore a fitted sleeveless dress that gracefully hugged her feminine curves.
 

He stood and greeted her with a kiss on her cheek. “Ms. North, how lovely of you to join me.”

She slipped into the seat across from him and he signaled for the waiter to bring another glass.

“I’ve already selected a wine. Is that fine or would you care for something else?”

“It’s fine.” She hid her emotions well. Olivia had told him that she’d cried over leaving. It made him rethink his plans. He didn’t want an employee who was homesick.

The waiter placed a glass in front of her and poured the Cabernet Sauvignon.

Lifting his glass, he said, “To hard work and some pleasurable experiences over the next year.”

She touched her glass to his and took a sip of the wine.

There was a sadness about her this evening and he felt a stab of guilt. Maybe he should have insisted on her involvement? “Are you ready for this new adventure?”

“I hope it all goes well.”

“I’ve already sent contracts over and had my management team meet with Patrick Breen. The biggest obstacle we face is dragging them into the current century. But at least they have good, solid products. I’ll want you to work on expanding their marketing reach. I’ve hired an advertising firm in Dublin and will put them at your disposal.”

Bridget took a sip of wine. “I’ll need a few days to sort out living arrangements.”

“Doesn’t your father live in Dublin?”

She looked at him. “Yes. But he has a studio flat so I couldn’t possibly stay there.”

“I live in a converted pub with ten bedrooms. You are welcome to stay there while you are looking for a place.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“My housekeeper, Mrs. Blake, adores guests and I’m not returning for several days. There is a bike race here in the UK that I’m doing with my sister’s husband, Alistair.” Why did he feel the need to help her?

“Olivia mentioned that you also own a cycling company.”

“Yes, I’ve been pleased with the results. With a small investment, it has grown into a powerhouse in the industry.”

“What happens if Breen doesn’t bring the same results?”

“They don’t require a ton of capital. Their issue beyond needing to integrate technology is the banks are not lending to companies in the garment industry. It’s too risky.”

She met his gaze. “But you are not afraid of risk?”

His mind was on other risks. “If you want to make money then you need to be able to tolerate risk.”

She took another swallow of wine. “Is money that important to you? Weren’t you left a huge amount of it?”

Why did she ask so many questions? He would need to direct her to keep her curiosity to the companies he needed to become profitable and not focused on him.
 

“My financial portfolio is probably a topic that should be off limits.”

“Why? Are you ashamed of how you make money?”

“No, Bridget. I’m ashamed of nothing. Not the choices I have made or my family. But my financial worth is none of your business.” Why did he let her get under his skin?

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just trying to understand what you hope to gain.”

“I’m hosting a dinner tomorrow night at my flat. I’m inviting several couples and I would like you to join us. The topic is going to be Breen and I thought you could pick up a few samples from Olivia.”

She sat back. “Are these investors?”

He didn’t want a reluctant employee. “Yes. It occurred to me that instead of using my own capital on this purchase, I could bring in a silent investor. I’ll choose one of three at the end of the evening. Your role will be to talk about the industry, the company and the products.”

Her eyes grew wider. “What if they ask something that I don’t know?”

Something about the move troubled her. “Say that you will have to find out and get back to them. They already have some of the business documents so they know the basics.”

She nodded and took a sip of her wine.

He needed her loyalty. “There is something else. You are expected to sign a non-disclosure agreement. You may speak with my sister about social issues or observations about the industry, but you may not relate any specific business knowledge or conversations.”

She touched her collarbone. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Because there is family and then there is business. I tell Olivia and Fionn a great deal, but it’s my information to share. Not yours. Is that clear?”

Her voice rose. “What should I tell her if she asks? I signed an agreement not to answer her questions?”

“I adore my sister, but for the next year, your loyalty has to be with me. If she asks, tell her to speak with me directly.”

After they finished their wine, William paid the bill and walked her to the elevator.
 

“Should I arrange for a car to take you home?”

“No. My aunt’s flat is within walking distance. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll text you the address. It’s a formal dinner.”

Watching her leave, he realized he never asked her if she was willing to work for him. He had assumed that it was a good deal for her, but something told him that the Donne Manor Hotel and Golf Resort was going to bring up baggage for her. It couldn’t have been easy to watch her father slide into bankruptcy. It was odd, meeting Bridget again made him reflect on his past. What was it about her that enticed him to think about his family? Maybe it was that she remembered all of the past hurts and conflicts. He purposely banished his memories and headed back to his flat.

Chapter 4

William walked into the church that morning and was blown away by his extended family. Both of his sisters were happily married and his nieces and small nephew tugged at his heart. He was lucky to be a part of all of this craziness. There was such love. It was also a paparazzi nightmare. Olivia and Fionn drew a ton of attention. Everyone, it seemed, wanted a photograph of their nephew in his custom baptismal gown.
 

The ceremony was precious and he held his three-year- old niece, Madeline, in his arms while Anna and Alistair took the baby up onto the altar with the godparents. William worried when his mother had complained bitterly about Anna using her father’s name, but now that he had met his tiny nephew, he felt differently. It was a beautiful acknowledgement, but in the end the little boy would grow up to be his own person. His father would have been proud of his daughters and the life they had each created for themselves.