“I’d like that. As for anything else, why don’t you take me to your favorite place? Somewhere besides the service entrance to your grandfather’s building.”
He laughed a little. “I think I’ll avoid that for both of us. Here’s our stop. Perhaps I’ll take you touring and you can draw my grandfather for me again in various states of duck.”
She exited the elevator in front of him, then came to a halt so suddenly that he ran into the back of her. He steadied them both with his hands on her shoulders, which she appreciated, then he stepped beside her and drew her hand into the crook of his elbow. Emma decided it was too late to yank him back into the elevator and pick a different exit besides the ground floor.
She looked at the men standing there. “Dad,” she said politely. She looked at the man standing next to him and decided perhaps Sheldon Cook didn’t need any greeting.
Her father was looking at Nathaniel. “You’re Poindexter MacLeod’s grandson,” he said without preamble.
“Bribed his secretary for the information?” Nathaniel asked.
“I had forgotten my newspaper in your grandfather’s waiting room,” he said stiffly. “She was good enough to tell me who you were when I went back up to get it.”
Emma refrained from snorting only because she was so practiced at it. Her father read his phone, not the newspaper, and he was almost as compulsive a snoop as she was. For all she knew, he had originally hired Bertie the Spy to get inside places he couldn’t and scout out sordid details to use in his negotiations. She and Nathaniel had been the only ones in the elevator; he’d likely made note of where the elevator had stopped, then he’d hassled secretaries until he’d found the right one to divulge the details. Standard fare for him.
“Odd that we find you here,” she said, wishing she’d had a Highlander or two behind her egging her on to ever greater heights of surliness. Then again, she had one right next to her, so maybe that was good enough for the moment.
“I don’t know why you would find it odd,” her father said. “I’m here to do business with Dexter MacLeod.”
“I was making conversation, Dad.”
“Too much time in menial jobs hasn’t done you any favors, Emma,” her father said shortly. He dismissed her with a look and turned to Nathaniel. “I understand you’re the MacLeod in MacLeod and Perkins in London. A fairly exclusive little boutique investment group, aren’t you?”
“We are,” Nathaniel agreed.
“Perhaps you’d be interested in discussing a little business over lunch?”
Emma looked at Nathaniel and wondered how his grandfather even thought that crossing him was ever going to end well. She’d seen him with a sword in his hands, which had been intimidating, but she’d never seen him wear that look that said he came from extremely old East Coast money and just who the hell did Frank Baxter think he was to pester him?
It was tempting to swoon.
She was tempted to make a hasty exit to the ladies’ so she didn’t have to watch the bloodshed, but Nathaniel put his hand over hers before she could. He didn’t, however, take his eyes off her father.
“We areextremelychoosy about our clients,” Nathaniel said with frigid politeness, “and even more choosy about our partners. I’m not sure we’re looking for any joint ventures atthe moment, especially with those who don’t have, shall we say, the pocket depth we’re accustomed to.”
Emma almost gasped. She had never in her life heard anyone insult her father that way, and she had heard all kinds of things said about him, behind his back and to his face.
Her father lifted his eyebrows briefly, then nodded. “Of course.”
Well, if there was one positive thing that could be said about her father, it was that he knew when he was beaten. It was unfortunate that the guy standing next to him practically hopping up and down with the need to be noticed didn’t possess even a hint of that same talent.
Emma looked at Sheldon, ignored whatever he was babbling about, then looked at her father. “Why did you bring Sheldon?”
“I didn’t bring him,” Frank said with something that might have been mistaken for disgust. “He was on my flight and talked the poor girl at the counter to death until she upgraded him out of a robust sense of self-preservation. I believe he’s here for his cousin’s wedding.”
“Then why is he standing here with you now?” Emma asked.
Her father frowned. “He followed me. I would say that showed initiative, but I’m finding it a bit unpleasant at the moment.”
Emma thought she might have a different word for it. She started to ask her father why in the world, then, he had been so thrilled to have her date that guy standing next to him, but decided there was no point. Her father’s motives were strange and inscrutable and she honestly didn’t care about them any longer.
“A pity we can’t linger for more of this fascinating chitchat,” Nathaniel said. “Must dash, sorry.”
Never let it be said she didn’t know when to bolt for the nearest exit. She ignored Sheldon, shot her father a cool look, then walked quickly with Nathaniel in a direction that didn’t seem to be leading to the front door. She supposed if anyone would know where he was going, it would be him.
“Back entrance?” she asked.
“Side exit,” he said, then he shot her a quick smile. “Sorry if that was rude.”
