The top-rated reality TV show, run by Zander and his family, allowed them—and guest billionaires like themselves—to rescue jeopardized multi-million dollar companies while the cameras rolled. Not all were rescued, however. Many a CEO had shuffled off the set with heads hung low, scrambling for an investor of another sort. Anything to keep them from losing it all.
Zander rapped a fist against the desk as he guessed at which company it might be. The NY restaurant chain he’d purchased came to mind. Perhaps they used non-recyclable takeout boxes? Or maybe the line of Detroit factories he’d snatched up a few months back. Although he doubted a chemist would fly clear to the other side of the country over such a thing.
But then it hit him—Milton and Brewster, the printing press he’d rescued. An episode that aired just last night. The press was an environmental leper, especially in a city like LA, but Zander had his reasons for saving it. They were personal reasons, something the chemist wouldn’t want to hear, but Zander wasn’t about to let some geek in a lab coat tell him what to do with his money.
Perhaps he should have asked Linda for a few details about this chemist before they met. Gotten the guy’s name at least. In Zander’s experience, he was always more persuasive when he used a personable approach.
Too late for that, he realized as he saw Linda striding down the hall with his visitor in tow.
Wait. Who was this? A gorgeous blonde in a fitted skirt, silky blouse, and a pair of heels. Perhaps he hadn’t heard Linda correctly about his ten o’clock.
Through the glass walls surrounding his office, Zander watched the women approach the entrance. He stood to his feet as they stepped inside.
Linda led the way, stopping just shy of his desk before turning to his pretty visitor. “Ms. Morgan, this is Zander Benton. Mr. Benton, this is Kat Morgan, one of LA’s environmental chemists.”
Beautiful and smart—there wasn’t a better combination. “Hello, Ms. Morgan,” he said, offering his hand.
She stretched a slender arm toward him and offered a firm, confident handshake. A hint of something tropical wafted through the air.
“Mr. Benton.”
Linda made her way toward the doorway with a nod.
“Thank you, Linda,” he hollered before setting his gaze back on… “Kat, did she say?”
“Yes.”
“Please.” He waved to the leather chairs at the other side of his desk. “Have a seat.”
Only she didn’t. She simply glanced at the chairs before pinning her glare back on him.
“I’d rather not.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the next. “I want to know why you ignored my emails about Milton and Brewster.”
Crap. It was about the printing press. Zander tipped his head to one side. “Emails?”
The woman let out a humorless laugh. “Sir, I started sending you emails once I heard they planned to make an appearance on your family’s TV show. I wrote you and your siblings and asked that you not rescue a company that pollutes our city and refuses to cooperate with sample collection on their premises.”
He stifled a groan. Zander had known he’d likely have a mess on his hands with the ancient company; he just hadn’t had the chance to find out how messy the updating process would be.
“I assure you,” he started as an errant thought hit his mind. Brown eyes. It was odd for blondes to have brown eyes, wasn’t it? They were mesmerizing.
Focus, Zander. He cleared his throat. “Ms. Morgan, I can assure you that we have a qualified team sorting through emails about The Lion’s Den, but you have to realize that there’s a conflict of interest with several of the…” he put up finger quotes, “warnings we get where jeopardized companies are concerned.
“See, we can’t be so sure that it’s not someone else stepping in with ulterior motives, hoping to get the business in their own hands at a discounted price.” He shrugged. “We’ve got to take those with a grain of salt.”
“Or dismiss them entirely, which is what you did with my advice about that outdated detriment to our city, thank you very much.”
The heat in her comment was evident in her cheeks, a warm shade of pink spreading over her face from ear to ear.
“I’m sorry that you feel—”
“I mean, did someone think that I hoped to swoop in with a bag of cash and snatch it up after you rejected it?”
“I didn’t say that. I simply gave you an example of why those emails tend to go unanswered.”
“Tend to go unanswered? That’s rich. So this is more common than I thought. You guys ignore everyone and just do what you want. I know your father was friends with Mr. Brewster.”
“You do?” Why was he crumbling under this woman’s scrutiny. He was Zander freaking Benton.
