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LENGTH: Long Category
SENSUALITY: Spicy

Cover art (c) Jenny Dixon 2005
ISBN 1-58608-267-1
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Rating: Contains graphic sexual content and adult situations.

PARTY GIRL PERFECT

By

Kathryn Anne Dubois

© copyright February 2005, Kathryn Anne Dubois
Cover Art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright February 2005
ISBN 1-58608-267-1
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

CHAPTER ONE

"Marriage, merger, what’s the difference," Bill Drummond grunted. He gave a shrug and placed the rocks glass in Matt’s hand then perched the bottle of Jack Daniels on the end table beside him.

"The difference?" Matt Conner gave himself a mental shake, but there was nothing else he could think to say. Of all the scenarios that raced through his mind when Drummond summoned him to his penthouse on the Upper-East Side, marriage to Drummond’s daughter didn’t come close.

That Drummond might suggest raising the price had occurred to him. He even considered the possibility of a delay in merging their two companies. That would have made sense. After all, Drummond was still young. From the outset, Matt had been surprised that he was planning to retire.

Matt sucked down the rest of the liquor in one long toss before placing his glass down with a thud.

"Drummond, you’re crazy."

"Aw now, Matt, think about it a minute--"

"I don’t need a minute." Matt gave a laugh. "I don’t even like your daughter."

His friend winced. But before Matt could take it back, Drummond gave him a half smile. He shook his head. "I’ve always liked that about you. Honest. Brutally honest." But then he sank his bulky frame into the leather wing chair opposite Matt and ran a weary hand over his face, suddenly looking every bit of his 58 years. "Okay, then how about I’m asking you as a friend."

"A friend, huh? Kind of a lot to ask."

Matt’s best fantasy when he took the elevator up to the sixteenth floor was that Drummond was turning the reins over to him in preparation for the merger, making him CEO of the company Drummond had built from the ground up. Although the men were competitors now, in many ways Matt considered Drummond his mentor, certainly a friend.

"Listen, I could parade a host of men before you who would jump at the chance. Allison’s beautiful--"

"Sure, I’m not blind, Bill, but I’m not crazy either. Now, what’s this about?" Matt stood abruptly, agitated by this whole turn of events and hoping Bill had some reasonable explanation for it. At the same time he pictured Allison the last time he saw her, tearing around the corner on two wheels in her flaming red Jaguar convertible, missing his meticulously restored Mercedes by a hair. He stripped off his jacket and threw it along the leather sofa. "Where did this come from? Last week things were about wrapped up." Matt rolled back his sleeves and poured himself bourbon, motioning to Drummond’s glass.

His friend nodded. "I’ve been going over my papers," he said, an exhaustion in his tone that Matt had never heard before. "Personal and financial. Getting things in order."

A sense of unease stole up Matt’s spine. He studied his friend for any signs of illness but could detect none. When Drummond took the glass Matt offered, his grip seemed steady and his eyes sharp. "Why personal papers?"

His friend grimaced. "There lies the problem." Drummond tilted his glass and took a long swallow. "My family lawyer seems to think I’ve forgotten the clause in my company’s charter. He’s right. The damn charter was drawn up 33 years ago. I was just a kid, what did I know?"

"What charter?" Matt was sure he wasn’t going to like the answer.

"You know that I started my company mostly with my wife’s family money. Well, my wife was sentimental. She made me promise that the business would always stay in the family, controlled by family. Even if it went public, a family member was to retain the controlling shares."

"Shit!" Matt dropped into the easy chair facing the large stone fireplace. Old photos in ornate gilded frames cluttered the mantle. Mostly old people, rigidly posed, chins held high with scowls probably meant to pass for smiles. "Crap," he said. It was unnecessary for Drummond to finish. He wasn’t family so the merger opposed the charter on which the company was built. One solution was to buy out the family seed money, but with compounding interest that could come to millions.

"There’s got to be some way around this," Matt said.

"There is. I turn my company over to my daughter--"

"Allison?" Matt choked. "She’d have it bankrupt and the money spent in two months flat." When Drummond started to protest, Matt held up his hand. "Okay, sorry, continue."

Drummond waved an impatient hand and came from around his desk. He paced before the dormant fireplace. "You marry Allison and our merged companies become marital property."

"Jesus," Matt groaned. "Like I said. You’re crazy."

"You got any better ideas?"

"What about forming divisions--"

"Can’t."

"Then a partnership, keeping shares separate--"

"No and no. I looked into that, too. Believe me, I’ve turned every stone." He stood before Matt, hands shoved in his pockets. "I’ve had a team of lawyers on it. They’ve come up with zilch."

"Well, I’ll find something." Matt opened his collar and rubbed down the front of his neck. He’d missed his afternoon shave and already the itch of stubble was irritating him.

"Good luck." Bill turned and headed toward his desk. He said over his shoulder. "When you find it, let me know."

Matt rose. "Give it a little more time and--"

"I don’t have time."

Matt eyed him. "Why not?"

"That’s my business." Drummond sank down into the soft leather chair behind his desk and gave a weary sigh. He faced Matt, looking pained. "You’re just going to have to trust me on this one. There are things I can’t tell you." He pulled out a drawer and lifted out a stack of manila files. "Look." He glanced up. "Even I think it’s a crazy idea, but it’s all I can come up with."

Matt didn’t like the sound of this, but he knew better than to probe too far. And he’d never had any reason not trust Bill Drummond.

He looked at the files stacked before Drummond. "Now what are you doing?"

"These are dossiers of other candidates. You were my first choice, Matt, but I gotta tell you, these look pretty good, too."

"Dossiers? Candidates? Jeez, Bill." Matt began to pace. "Last week this was a straight-forward business deal, a sound one. Just the hint of it created speculation about our merged companies going public. Now it’s become a damned ‘Who’s behind Bachelor Door #1’?"

Drummond shrugged and opened the file on top.

"Okay, I’ll consider it." Matt stopped before his desk. He flattened his hand on the stack of files. "I’ll consider it all. But I still say there’s another way. At least hold off a few days on anything else. Crap." He pushed away from the desk. "You just now hit me with this."

The hell of it was that Matt couldn’t afford not to consider it and Drummond well knew it. Now was one of the worst times for Matt or anyone else to introduce a new product unless you had a sound track record which Drummond had. And while Matt had been successful, he was still a rookie in IT, even to the point of being considered a young upstart by some. The old guard would be happy to let anyone else risk their capital on Matt’s innovative program first and then jump on board when all the quirks were worked out. And Matt had sunk so much of his own capital into the program that if he didn’t find a partner soon he was in danger of going under. He’d be damned if he let everything he’d worked for go down the drain.

Drummond had made it clear that he trusted Matt and was willing to take a chance. With Matt’s patent on the natural language program that could be adapted to any software and Drummond’s capital and firm establishment in the volatile computer industry, both men stood to make millions as a result of their merger.

It was a marriage made in heaven. A merger, Matt reminded himself. Hell, if everything went well over the next year, Matt could retire.

"Like I said," Drummond grumbled. "Plenty of men wouldn’t have to think about it. Frankly, I thought this would be the easy part. It’s getting my daughter to consider it that’s going to be hell."

Matt snorted. "Right. Marriage would cut into her party time. I forgot."

Drummond glowered at him. "What is it with you two?"

Matt backed off. "Okay, okay." While Drummond might not be happy with some of the things his daughter did, he loved her and would always defend her.

Matt grabbed up his jacket. "I’ll get back to you."

"You do that. And I can’t wait forev--"

Matt slammed the door before he could finish and stalked down the marble corridor. The butler appeared from nowhere. It always irritated Matt when servants lurked in every corner, accosting you at the first hint that you might need something. Drummond’s roots were no different than his. Why did he put up with it?

"Shall I summon your automobile, sir?" Burden offered.

Christ, the guy had to be about ninety and he sounded like he was issuing a legal directive.

"I can get my own car."

"Certainly, sir. Have a good evening."

"Right."

Just to make a point, Matt slammed the outer door, too.