She knew that if she'd taken Grace Beaumont up on her kind offer of assistance in paying the tuition for St. Camille Haven, she wouldn't constantly be struggling to make ends meet. But she would not accept charity from anyone. Not even from Grace. Besides, she was well aware of the fact that Grace had arranged for the scholarship that paid over fifty percent of Milly's bills at the school.
Elsa made a mad dash to the bathroom, ran a comb through her hair, swiped on some lipstick and checked her appearance in the full-length mirror attached to the back of the door. She looked presentable. That was good enough. She detoured through her bedroom, grabbed her keys and handbag, and rushed out to her car, all the while praying Troy would come to his senses before he got in over his head with the wrong people.
A two-story structure that blended in nicely with the century-old buildings in downtown St. Camille, the headquarters for Sheffield Media, Inc. presided over two acres of land within the city limits. Consisting of several small buildings resembling raised cottages, so prevalent in Louisiana, and connected by white lattice-covered breezeways, the administrative center looked more like a mini-community than a business site. Grace gave Jed a tour of the entire compound, introducing him as "Mr. Tyree, who will be working for me a few weeks in an advisory capacity." She hadn't elaborated on his job description and no one had asked for more information.
Jed opened doors for Grace as they made their way into the heart of the complex, which was alive with activity. All the employees were friendly. They smiled, greeted them and paid the proper respect to the CEO and her guest. Did any of these people know who he was and what he was doing here? Probably not.
"Exactly who knows about the letter you received?" Jed asked.
"Four people other than myself… and the person who wrote the letter." She paused by the desk in an outer office, then glanced around as if searching for someone. "My senior vice-president, Hudson Prentice, who is also a good friend, my cousin Joy Loring, my lawyer and family friend, Willis Sullivan, and my personal assistant, Elsa Leone, who doesn't seem to be here this morning."
A wide-eyed young woman with a mop of curly carrot-red hair emerged from Grace's private office-Grace's name on the door declared the space as hers.
"Oh, good morning, Ms. Beaumont." The plump redhead left the door wide open, moved aside and stood at attention. "Elsa phoned. She'll be late coming in. A problem with her brother. But she gave me exact instructions. Your mail has been opened and placed on your desk and I just put a mug of cappuccino on the coaster. I used the crystal mug, per Elsa's instructions."
"Thank you, Avery." Grace entered her large, elegant office, then glanced back at the young woman. "Did Elsa say what the problem was with Troy?"
"No, ma'am, she didn't."
"Mmm-hmm. All right, thanks. When Elsa arrives, please tell her I wish to speak to her. And for now, will you inform Mr. Prentice that I'd like for him to come to my office."
"Right away."
Jed wasn't surprised by Grace's air of command. He figured she'd been used to giving orders all her life, so it would have become second nature to her. Call him a male chauvinist, but what amazed him was how someone so young and beautiful could be savvy enough to run a multimillion-dollar media empire. After all, from what he'd read in the Dundee's report on her, she hadn't worked a day in her life until three years ago when she'd stepped in to fill her father's shoes as not only owner of Sheffield Media, Inc., but as the CEO. She'd been born and bred to be a society wife, as her mother and grandmothers before her had been.
"You asked to see me?" A rather ordinary-looking man, of medium height and build, stood in the open doorway.
Jed studied him briefly. The guy was a bit of a dandy with his expensive clothes, Rolex wristwatch and perfectly styled brown hair.
" Hudson, please come in and close the door," Grace said, and her senior vice-president scurried to do her bidding.
Jed wondered if all the men in Grace's life were such willing slaves. Probably. He pegged Grace for the type who, when she snapped her fingers, expected a man to come running.
Hudson Prentice eyed Jed with the kind of speculation he translated as the guy trying to figure out whether Jed was competition. Competition for what? What else-Grace Beaumont's affections.
"Jed Tyree, this is Hudson Prentice."
"Thirty-six, unmarried, lives alone, no pets, no children. Graduated magna cum laude, with an MBA from Tulane. Hired as an assistant by and for Byram Sheffield. A loyal employee for almost fifteen years. Now senior vice-president, good friend and confidante of Grace Beaumont." Jed recited the info, and noted the way Hudson 's brows rose and a tenuous smile hiked the corners of his mouth.
"You seem to have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Tyree." Hudson offered his hand. "You know a great deal about me and I know nothing about you."
"All you need to know is that I'm a Dundee agent hired by Ms. Beaumont to investigate some serious allegations." Jed shook hands with Prentice, whose smile quickly disappeared.
" Hudson, I want you to arrange for an office for Mr. Tyree. Move some people around, if necessary," Grace instructed as she lifted the crystal mug from her desk and sipped the cappuccino. "I want him in this building, fairly close to me."
"Yes, of course. It will take some time to-"
"I want it done this morning."
"Certainly."
Grace eyed Jed over the rim of her mug. "Tell Hudson what you'll need. Computer? Fax? Copier? Extra phone lines? A secretary of your own?"
"Yes to everything except the secretary," Jed replied. " Dundee 's will send someone to act in that capacity, if I find I need it. By not using one of your people, we lessen the chance of more people knowing about your private business."
"Good idea." Grace sat down behind her desk, then glanced at Prentice. "That's all, Hudson. Thank you."
Prentice looked like a kid who'd been told to go to bed without any supper. Staring down at his feet, he cleared his throat, then glared at Grace. "Couldn't Elsa handle all of this? After all, how will it look to the employees to have me at Mr. Tyree's beck and call? I am the senior vice-president."
Grace set her coffee mug on the coaster, placed one hand on the desk and the other on her thigh. "I apologize. I had no idea you'd feel demeaned by helping Mr. Tyree settle in. But Elsa has been delayed this morning by a personal matter, so if you would, I'd appreciate your at least arranging for an office for Mr. Tyree."
"Grace, I-I didn't mean to imply that-"
She held up her hand in a Stop gesture. "No, no. It was my mistake entirely."
With that said, she dismissed Prentice, who gazed at her pathetically and slunk out of the room like a whipped dog.
Jed wondered how a guy who could so easily be cowed by a woman had ever been considered CEO material? Hadn't he read in the file on Grace that Prentice had temporarily replaced Byram Sheffield for ten months after his death? The only explanation that made sense to Jed was that Prentice was in love with Grace, which made him act like a tongue-tied fool only around her. Otherwise, the man was just an idiot. And he didn't think a man with Byram Sheffield's reputation was the type to have suffered fools gladly.
"You should put him out of his misery," Jed said.
Grace's head snapped up; she glared at him. "Pardon?"
"Nothing." Jed shrugged.
"My relationships with my employees are none of your concern."