Uninhibited. Candace Schuler

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СКАЧАТЬ were after, there wouldn’t be any problem, would there?” Reed said mildly, his tone as urbane and civil as if he hadn’t just dragged her out of his great-grandmother’s house by the scruff of the neck.

      Zoe found it really annoying that he could sound so cool, as if that mad dash across the marble foyer and down the wide brick steps hadn’t happened, while she was left feeling frazzled, put-upon and decidedly ill used. “Then just what is your problem?” she demanded.

      “My problem is your brazen effort to bilk a sweet old lady out of a small fortune to finance some fly-by-night cosmetic company.”

      “Fly-by—” Zoe’s mouth gaped open and she stared at him like a hooked fish for a full five seconds. “New Moon is not fly-by-night!” she exclaimed furiously, and then clamped her mouth shut. Shouting at the top of her lungs might be all well and good in the North End, but Beacon Hill called for a little more decorum. Besides, if she lost her temper, Mr. Stuffed Shirt would win. And she’d implode before she’d let that happen. “I’ve been selling New Moon products to individual clients for over three years, and commercially, on a commission basis, for almost two,” she said with quiet dignity. “I have steady retail customers in two shops in the Faneuil Hall Marketplace and several locations in the Back Bay, including one in a very exclusive boutique on Newbury Street, which, for your information, is where I met your great-grandmother. I’d hardly call that fly-by-night.”

      “Regardless of what you’d call it, Miss Moon, you’re not getting any money from my great-grandmother to expand your little…enterprise.” His slight hesitation made the word sound distinctly unsavory.

      “Why not?” Zoe demanded, truly puzzled by his attitude. “Moira told me she invests in all kinds of businesses. And with your blessing, too. So just what have you got against me and New Moon?”

      “Let’s just say I have a constitutional aversion to con artists and leave it at that, shall we?”

      “Con artists!?” She had to fight to keep her voice even. “But I just told you, I’m not trying to con any— Moira’s the one who invited me to tea and I— Oh, forget it! It’s obvious you’ve already made up your mind,” she accused, ignoring the fact that her little act in his great-grandmother’s parlor might have had something to do with his poor opinion of her. “And you aren’t about to change it, are you? No matter what I say.”

      Zoe lifted her chin. “All I can say is that you’re cheating your great-grandmother out of a wonderful investment opportunity. New Moon is going to be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars some day. Millions, even.” She picked up the end of her shawl and tossed it across the opposite shoulder, haughty as an affronted queen. “It’s going to be bigger than Estee Lauder. And you’re going to be very, very sorry.”

      With that, she turned and stomped off down the street, her mass of fiery, corkscrew curls swaying against her back, her purse and shopping bag bouncing against her hip, the heels of her purple suede boots clicking like castanets against the venerable old Boston street.

      For once in her life, she had come up with the perfect exit line. Perfect! She hadn’t said too much, or too little. She hadn’t lost her temper. She’d been cool, calm and composed. It took all of her willpower not to ruin it by turning around and rudely thumbing her nose at Mr. Stuffed Shirt Reed Sullivan IV.

      “Well,” Eddie said. “That was certainly interesting.”

      “Yes,” Reed said slowly, his eyes on her retreating back. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, wondering why it felt so hot and…twitchy. “Wasn’t it.”

      3

      “BUT I WANT TO INVEST in Zoe’s business, Reed.”

      “Gran, sweetheart, be reasonable. Whatever New Moon is, it can hardly be called a business. She doesn’t have a business plan. Nor a P&L. Not even a simple, basic set of books to track income and expenses.” He dug his hand into one of the shoe boxes on the table between them and grasped a sheaf of papers to illustrate his point. “Just this disorganized mess.” Which, he noted, smelled disconcertingly of violets. He lifted them halfway toward his nose before he realized what he was doing, and stuffed them back into the box with a disgusted snort. “You can’t run a business, let alone expect people to give you money to expand it, if you don’t keep decent records.”

      “Well, there, you see.” Moira smiled at him approvingly. “That’s just the kind of advice Zoe needs. I knew you could help.”

      “Gran, you can’t really be serious about this.” He looked at her over the top of his reading glasses. “Can you?”

      “Dead serious,” she assured him with an emphatic little nod of her regal head.

      “Well, I’m dead set against it.” He took his glasses off and tossed them down on the table like a gauntlet. “I don’t approve of the idea at all. Not at all.”

      Moira’s brows lifted at his tone. “May I remind you, young man, that it happens to be my money we’re discussing, not yours. And as I have been legally of age for quite some time now and am in full possession of my faculties, I am perfectly free to do as I please with it.” She lifted her chin and looked down her elegant nose at him. “Whether you approve or not.”

      Reed abandoned his high horse. It never worked with his great-grandmother, anyway; nobody had ever been able to dictate to Moira Sullivan, not even her dear departed husband. “But why, Gran? Can you at least answer me that? Why on earth do you want to invest in that woman’s business?”

      “Her products are wonderful,” Moira said promptly. “And I like her.”

      “You hardly know her,” he countered. “You said yourself you only met her this past Monday and—” He broke off as a thought occurred to him. “How exactly did you happen to meet her, anyway?”

      “She didn’t maneuver an introduction or try to ingratiate herself in any way, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Moira chided him gently. “I overheard her talking to the proprietor of The Body Beautiful about the difficulties she’s been having getting financing to expand her business, and I interrupted their conversation and introduced myself to her.”

      “And you say she didn’t maneuver it,” he scoffed.

      Moira stiffened ever so slightly and her chin came up again. “Despite my advanced years, I am not some poor senile old lady who doesn’t know which end is up,” she said with quiet, reproachful dignity.

      Reed was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, Gran. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I never meant to suggest that you—”

      “Neither am I gullible or easily misled,” Moira went on, as if he hadn’t spoken. “I know very well when someone is trying to pull the wool over my eyes. And when they aren’t. And I assure you, my dear Reed, Miss Moon had no idea I was listening to her conversation in that shop until I interrupted her.”

      “I’m sure you’re right,” Reed agreed. “You know I have the utmost faith in your judgment. I always have and always will. I just…” He paused and reached for his discarded glasses, twisting one stem as he searched for the words to say what he meant without insulting his great-grandmother again. “All question of how you met aside, the fact remains that you’ve known her—and I use that term loosely!—three days. Barely. And yet you say you like her. Three days isn’t enough time to make that kind of decision about a person. It’s not enough СКАЧАТЬ