Hold the Dream by Barbara Taylor Bradford
Paula noticed, said swiftly, ‘This is so important, Jim. We’re beginning to make a good start. I think we ought to continue, thrash –’
‘And I think you have to relax, Paula, learn to curb this compulsion of yours to turn minor problems into stupendous dramas. If you want my opinion, this discussion is really rather stupid. I can’t imagine why you thought it was necessary in the first place, and especially today when you’re leaving for almost a month. We’re very happy together, yet you insist on borrowing trouble by trying to convince me we’re not.’
‘Oh Jim, I only want to save –’
‘Hush, darling. Hush,’ he said softly, smiling engagingly, taking her hand in his. ‘When I look around at our friends and acquaintances I know we have the most marvellous of marriages. We’re very lucky, Paula, and I congratulate myself every day, knowing how compatible we are.’
Dismay lodged in her stomach like a heavy stone. Observing the stubbornness settling on his face she acknowledged there was no reason to continue. She was talking to a brick wall.
Jim said, ‘You are looking thoughtful all of a sudden. And do you know something, you think too much and far too hard.’ He laughed lightly, dismissively, taking the sting out of his words. ‘Analysing every tiny thing the way you are prone to do isn’t very smart. I discovered that years ago. Whenever one puts something under a microscope, seeking flaws, one inevitably finds them. There’s nothing wrong with our relationship, Paula. Do try to take it easy, darling.’ He bent forward, kissed her on the cheek, then rose purposefully. ‘Now that we’ve had our chat, settled matters, I’ll be going, if you don’t mind.’ He squeezed her shoulder. ‘Drive carefully and phone me tonight before you go to sleep.’ He winked. ‘That’s always when I miss you the most.’
Paula sat staring at him, stupefied, unable to speak. Finally she managed a nod. When he turned away her eyes followed him. There was a void in her heart as she watched him walk across the room.
The study door clicked behind him. She heard the echo of his footsteps crossing the hall, the front door slamming, and a few seconds later the sound of his car as he revved the engine. She sat very still in the chair for a long time after he had left, filled with despair and an overwhelming sense of defeat.
Finally she roused herself from her troubled thoughts, pushed herself up out of the chair and left the room. Slowly, wearily, she climbed the stairs to the nursery and her children. They had always been the joy of her existence. They were her whole existence now.
CHAPTER 31
Paula looked from Dale Stevens to Ross Nelson. ‘My grandmother would never consider selling her stock in Sitex Oil. Never.’
Ross Nelson smiled, his expression sanguine. ‘Never is a word I’ve learned to distrust. It has a way of coming back to haunt one, and that’s why I hardly ever use it.’
‘I understand the point you’re trying to make,’ Paula said, ‘but, nevertheless, I know what my grandmother’s feelings are about Sitex, and she wouldn’t be interested in your proposal. She promised my grandfather –’ Paula cut herself short, shrugged off-handedly. ‘However, that’s another story, and this conversation is really a waste of time – Dale’s, yours and mine.’
Dale Stevens said, ‘Maybe you ought to broach it to Emma when she gets back from Australia next month, test the water, see what she has to say. She might like the idea. Times have changed, and let’s not lose sight of the fact that she stands to make millions if she sells out.’
‘I don’t think money comes into play here,’ Paula answered.
‘Harry Marriott and his cronies on the board are a tough bunch, Paula,’ Dale remarked, giving her a pointed look, levelling his alert dark eyes at her. ‘They’ve wanted Emma out for years, resent her influence, and the situation can only worsen, get harder for you in the future. When she’s no longer around you’ll find yourself –’
‘My grandmother’s not dead yet,’ Paula interjected, meeting his fixed stare with a cool glance. ‘And I refuse to speculate about the future and eventualities that are a long way off. I deal with business the only way I know how – on a day to day basis. I’m certainly not going to seek out trouble, and I’d like to remind you that Marriott is a very old man. He won’t last for ever, and, therefore, neither will his influence.’
‘There’s that nephew of his,’ Dale pointed out quietly. ‘Marriott Watson’s a nasty son of a bitch, a troublemaker.’
‘Oh don’t talk to me about nephews,’ Paula began and stopped, biting her inner lip. She turned to Ross, remembering that he was the nephew of Daniel P. Nelson and his heir. She laughed lightly, and apologized, ‘Sorry, Ross, I didn’t mean to sound disparaging about nephews in general. I wasn’t getting at you.’
He laughed with her and there was a hint of humour surfacing in his hazel eyes. ‘Don’t worry, I don’t take offence that easily.’ He leaned forward, his face growing serious. ‘What Dale is trying to say is that those members of the board who have strained under Emma’s yoke are going to be awfully rough with you, for the simple reason that you’re a –’
Paula held up her hand. ‘You don’t have to say it, Ross, I know the reason – I’m a woman and a young one at that. I realize they’ve only listened to my grandmother all these years because they’ve had no option. She is the single largest stockholder, and my grandfather was the founder of the company, and obviously certain people have always hated her because of her enormous power, and, of course, because she is a woman.’ Paula paused. ‘Still, Emma Harte has managed, and managed very well indeed. She has always outsmarted that board, and so will I. I’m not without intelligence and inventiveness – I’ll find a way to make them listen, take notice of me.’
Ross and Dale were silent, exchanged knowing glances.
Ross spoke first. ‘I wouldn’t want you to think I’m bigoted, a male chauvinist pig like some of those idiots on the board of Sitex, but despite the inroads women have been making in business lately, of which I totally approve I might add, I’m afraid we have to face the facts. It’s still a man’s –’
Paula broke into laughter, instantly cutting him off. ‘I know it’s still a man’s world, you don’t have to rub it in. And it always will be until the day women can go into the men’s room.’
Ross Nelson’s smile was slow, amused. He appreciated her sense of humour as well as her inherent toughness and courage. She was one hell of a woman. His eyes lingered on her appraisingly. He was strongly attracted to her, fascinated by her self-control, her sharp mind, her extraordinary self-confidence. He wanted her for himself. He wondered what approach to take, the best tactics to use, how long it would take him to get her into his bed. He fully intended to do that – and the sooner the better.
He disengaged his eyes from hers, conscious of the prolonged silence. He said, with a strangled laugh, ‘Not all deals are made in the men’s room, Paula.’
‘Most of them are,’ she shot back, throwing him that challenging look again. ‘Or the equivalent of the men’s room,’ she added, making a moue with her mouth.
This further inflamed him, and he could only grin, suddenly feeling asinine, like an inexperienced schoolboy. He had the compelling urge to fasten his mouth on hers and he would have done so if Dale had not been present.
Dale coughed behind his hand, said quickly, ‘Marriott Watson has been gunning for me for a long time, Paula, because I’m Emma’s protégé. Don’t think he won’t make strong moves against me when I’m no longer under her protection. He can’t wait.’
‘I’m well aware of that,’ Paula replied, her tone as sober as his. ‘But right now you do have her protection, and mine, for what it’s worth. Also, let’s not overlook those board members who are on our side. Together we wield a lot of power. In September you promised me you’d stay on as president until Christmas. Last month you agreed to continue until your contract runs out, in spite of the present harassment from certain quarters within the company. You’re not changing your mind, reneging on me, are you?’
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‘I’ve every intention of doing so, and she has a right to know. Don’t be concerned, she’ll get a full report of this meeting.’ She swung her head to face Ross. ‘She will ask me who your client is, Ross. Naturally she’ll want to know who’s interested in buying her stock. You haven’t given me the name yet.’ She sat back in the chair, eyeing him speculatively.
Ross Nelson, in full control again, shook his head. ‘I can’t tell you, Paula. At least not yet. Once you express a genuine interest in selling the Sitex stock I will, of course, do so at once. Until then the name must remain confidential. At the specific request of our client. And I would like to repeat what I said at the outset of this meeting – that the interested party has been a client of the bank for a long time and is highly respected.’
Paula was amused at his insistence on secrecy but she kept her face neutral. ‘It’s obviously another oil company, and I doubt that it’s one of the really huge ones like Getty or Standard. It must be a medium-sized company – a company such as International Petroleum perhaps?’ There was a shrewd glint in her knowing violet eyes.
Ross was impressed. His admiration for her went up another notch. She had stabbed in the dark most probably, but hit the bull’s eye nonetheless. ‘No, it isn’t International Petroleum,’ he lied smoothly. ‘And please don’t start a guessing game, because it won’t do you any good.’ He flashed her one of his deep warm smiles. ‘The name cannot be revealed until our client gives permission, and it may interest you to know that not even Dale has an inkling of who it is.’
But you haven’t denied it’s an oil company, Paula thought. She said, ‘Then I suppose I may never know, since my grandmother won’t be interested in selling.’ Paula crossed her legs, adopting a more relaxed posture, wondering if Ross had told her the truth when he had denied it was International Petroleum. She was not sure, neither was she sure of her feelings about the man himself. Her attitude towards him had always been ambivalent. She had never been able to decide whether she liked him or not. On the surface Ross Nelson was charming, courteous, sure of himself, forever ready to oblige. A handsome man in his late thirties, he was about five feet nine, well built, fair of colouring with an open almost guileless face and the friendliest of smiles that flashed relentlessly to reveal his big white perfect teeth. His appearance was sleek and polished, his clothes impeccable, as were his manners.
And yet all of this was deceptive, or so it seemed to Paula. She could not help thinking that there was something concealed and predatory about him. Quietly observing Ross now, it suddenly struck her that the beautiful clothes and the insouciance he projected were mere façades to camouflage unpleasant characteristics that only came to light behind the closed doors of the bank’s board room. As Emma had divined before her, Paula scented a cold and calculating ruthlessness in him, a grim hardness behind the charm, the smiles, and the golden boy image.
Dale and Ross had been chatting about the explosion in the engine room of the Emeremm III, and Paula gave the two men her entire attention.
Dale was saying, ‘Of course sabotage crossed my mind, Ross, but it’s been ruled out. There was that recent inquiry and nothing untoward was discovered. Nothing at all. Anyway, who would do such a thing?’ He shook his head rapidly, frowned. ‘No, no, it was definitely an accident, even though we haven’t been able to discover exactly what caused the explosion.’
Paula thought: the disaster to the Emeremm III was a harbinger of bad luck, but she said, ‘So it remains a mystery it seems, and a terrible stain on our safety record.’
“Fraid so, honey.’ Dale’s grin was rueful and his brown eyes crinkled at the corners in his leathery, weatherbeaten face. ‘Hate to keep repeating myself, but the oil game is a high risk business in more ways than one. However, the Emeremm III is a sturdy vessel and I just heard this morning that she’s seaworthy again and back in the fleet.’
‘Well, that’s a bit of good news!’ Paula exclaimed, looking pleased, giving Dale a warm smile. The president of Sitex was a man she liked and trusted and whom she never had any qualms about. He was smart, tough, exceedingly ambitious for himself, but he was honest, and exactly what he seemed, not given to dissembling or craftiness. Studying him surreptitiously, she thought that even his clothes reflected the man himself, were good but conservative, lacked the expensive elegance of the other man’s. She asked herself then what this wily, hard-grinding, fifty-three-year-old Texan who had risen the hard way could possibly have in common with the smooth Eastern Seaboard banker sitting next to him. The latter reeked of the old guard, pots and pots of inherited money and a privileged heritage. Yet close friends they were. Ross Nelson had introduced Dale Stevens to Emma two years ago, and it was through the investment banker that Dale was now president of the oil company.
Watching her watching him, Dale suddenly said, ‘I hope you don’t think I lack confidence in you, because that’s not true, honey.’
‘But I am an unknown quantity, right?’ she retorted swiftly, and continued in the same mild voice, ‘I understand your motives, Dale, and I can’t say I blame you. You’re looking to the future, and you’ve decided that things will operate much more smoothly at Sitex if our big block of preferred stock is controlled by someone else, someone whom you believe might be better equipped to handle the disruptive faction on the Sitex board.’
Continuing to scrutinize her closely, forever conscious of her astuteness and perception, and never one to underestimate this clever young woman, Dale decided to be truthful. ‘Yes,’ he said, giving her a direct and open look, ‘that’s part of my reasoning, I admit that. But it’s not all of it. In one sense I’m also thinking of you, your heavy burdens. It seems to me that you have your hands full with the Harte chain and your considerable business interests in England and Australia. And of course, you are based in England, honey.’
Paula said pithily, ‘Telephones work, telex machines transmit, planes fly.’
‘But Sitex is still an additional pressure for you,’ he said, paying no attention to her sarcastic tone. ‘And do you really need it?’ Dale shook his head, as if making up her mind for her. ‘I don’t think you do, and if it were me, why I’d persuade Emma to sell out and make a huge profit. You could reinvest the millions you make from the stock in something else – something that’s less of a headache.’
She said nothing.
‘I concur with Dale,’ Ross stated, his tone flat. He cleared his throat. ‘Obviously I’ve long been aware of the difficulties at Sitex, not only through Dale, but because of Emma’s confidences over the last few years. And so, when the bank’s client professed an interest in buying up Sitex stock, I immediately thought of Emma’s vast holdings in the company. I spoke to Dale and he agreed we should raise the matter with you immediately. The bank’s client has already invested in Sitex’s common stock. And with your forty-two per cent –’ He stopped, offered her one of his perpetual all-embracing smiles. ‘Why, Paula, that would give our client real clout.’
‘Anybody who owns that forty-two per cent has clout,’ Paula said crisply. ‘Whether it’s us or your client is quite beside the point. You know as well as I do that it’s the actual stock, not the owner of it, that counts. And anyway, your client’s common stock doesn’t come into play since it’s not voting stock and has no power attached to it. Obviously this client of yours – whether an individual or a company – needs my grandmother’s stock to give him, or them, a voice in the running of the company. Control is what they’re after. I understand everything perfectly.’
Neither men responded, both acknowledging to themselves that there was no point in making denials and in so doing looking foolish.
Paula stood up, and adopting her most gracious manner, went on, ‘I’m afraid I have to bring our informal little get-together to a close, gentlemen. I thin
Dale and Ross had risen when she had, and as Paula walked them to the door, Dale said, ‘I’m flying back to Odessa tonight, but just give me a holler if you need me, or need anything at all. In any event I’ll be calling you next week to touch base.’
‘Thanks, Dale, I appreciate that,’ Paula said, taking his outstretched hand.
‘Are you sure you won’t join us for lunch?’ Ross asked.
‘Thank you again, but I can’t. I have a date with the fashion director of Harte’s USA, and since we’re going to be planning the French Designer Week promotion over lunch it’s not possible for me to cancel.’
‘Our loss,’ he said, sounding disappointed, keeping his eyes focused on her, still clasping her hand tightly in his. ‘Unlike Dale, I’m not flying off anywhere, Paula. I’m staying right here in little old Manhattan. Let me know if I can help you with anything – anything whatsoever. And I hope I can take you to dinner one evening this week.’
Extracting her hand, Paula said, ‘How kind of you, Ross. I’m afraid I’m rather busy this week. Every night actually.’ This was untrue but she had no desire to see him socially.
‘Not next week I sincerely hope!’ He leaned into her, squeezed her arm. ‘I’ll call you on Monday and I won’t take no for an answer,’ he warned with a hearty laugh.