The Inheritance, page 18
Phyla closed her fingers around Ash’s shaking hand. “Ash? We don’t have to do this.”
The touch, coupled with Diva putting her nose beneath Ash’s other hand, gave her the grounding she needed to face the inevitable. Humor always worked best for her at times like these, so she indicated Diva with a lift of her chin. “A warm hand and a wet nose. What more could a woman want, eh?”
Phyla blinked at the double entendre, shaking her head with an affectionate glint in her eyes, “Ash, you’re incorrigible.”
That was the first time Ash had seen that particular look in Phyla’s eyes, confirming Doc’s words that there really was more to this woman than the icy cold exterior she presented to the world. She clipped a leash to Diva’s collar and pulled in a shaky breath. “Ready.”
Phyla nodded, stepped out, and turned to wait for Ash. The flashes seemed to increase a hundred-fold immediately after Ash’s foot hit the sidewalk. She hesitated and then stood, more than a little overwhelmed by the chaos. As always, Diva stayed close by her leg, offering comfort despite the tumult raging around them.
Phyla placed a steadying hand on her back but didn’t push her forward. She leaned in and said into her ear, “Whenever you’re ready. You’re safe, Ash. Remember, a camera flash is only a camera flash.”
With her emotions roiling right below the surface, unbidden tears came to Ash’s eyes at the unexpected kind words. She quickly blinked them away, hopefully before anyone noticed. She took her first step forward and began hearing shouts demanding she turn and look.
“Mari! Over here!”
“Mari Nicolette Langdon!”
“Are you two together, Phyla?”
“What’s the story, Mari? Are you and Phyla McGuire a couple?”
“Do you plan to merge your two empires? What does the FTC have to say about that?”
“What’s with the dog? Is it yours? Why the dog?”
When they finally reached the doors, Phyla squeezed Ash’s waist, let go, and then turned to face the reporters.
Whether he did it on purpose or not, Ash couldn’t tell, but Neville immediately replaced Phyla’s hand with his and held the door open for her. She stepped inside, half-worried there’d be more shouting on the other side of the door. Apparently, there were different rules for the reporters allowed indoors because although the flashes were still going off, everyone was politely silent as she waited for Phyla to finish giving her statement.
Phyla spoke, took a moment to answer a few questions, and then joined Ash and Neville. A female security guard had taken Neville’s place by Phyla’s side when he’d escorted Ash inside, but she stepped back once Neville was back in his proper place.
Once again, Phyla leaned in and spoke quietly. “The director asked me to walk the red carpet since I helped finance the film. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Ash watched some celebrity she didn’t recognize walk the carpet and stop at a predetermined spot in front of a white canvas. The woman was wearing what Ash considered a bizarre multi-colored midi skirt, competing patterned half coat, and knee-high boots that looked as though she’d stomped her way through a bucket full of multi-colored paint. And yet, the actress somehow managed to effortlessly exude style and elegance.
Ash straightened and raised her chin so it was parallel to the ground, realizing it wasn’t so much the outfit as the woman’s confidence and posture that gave her that indecipherable quality that would leave a lasting impression on her audience.
Seeing the change in Ash’s posture, Phyla followed her gaze and realized what Ash had seen in the woman just now leaving the staging area. She nodded her approval. “Now you’ve got it. Demand they respect you with your poise and your overall bearing. Even when you don’t feel entirely confident, never let them sense uncertainty or doubt.” She put her hand on Ash’s lower back, felt her shaking, and amended, “But you still don’t need to do this. It’s up to you.”
Ash blew out a breath and shrugged. “In for a penny, I guess. Can we do it together?”
Phyla’s eyes held a touch of wry humor as she said, “Of course.” Then, under her breath added, “The media already has us as a couple, might as well fan the flames.” They were escorted to the red carpet by a friendly, harried-looking woman who fell apart when confronted by an unemotional, unemotive Phyla McGuire. The woman gabbled something about what an honor it was to meet her and how she’d always admired her business acumen. It turned out it was the woman’s gabbling that actually helped Ash gather her courage because it seemed she was more frightened than Ash had ever been.
Phyla kept her hand on the small of Ash’s back, a gesture Ash was growing quite fond of. When they stopped to allow photographs, Ash nervously opened her jacket and shoved a hand into her pocket in the same way she’d done in the office. Diva, looking a bit nervous herself, sat protectively next to Ash’s leg.
Knowing how stunning Ash had looked when she’d come out of the dressing room and held that pose, Phyla graced the cameras with an enigmatic smile of her own. That pose, exposing suspenders and watch chain, coupled with Phyla’s hand on Ash’s back, would be the one gracing the front pages of every major newspaper in the world the following morning, and there was nothing Phyla could do to stop it.
When Phyla thought they’d spent enough time giving the media all the fodder they could possibly need, she moved Ash out of the limelight, where the director himself was waiting to greet them.
He air-kissed Phyla’s cheeks and beamed at her. “Phyla. It’s so wonderful to see you. I think you’ll be pleased with the film.”
He looked expectantly at Ash, who held out her hand. Before she could introduce herself, Phyla snapped. “Ash Redux, Mars Antone, the director of the film we’re going to see.”
Mars blinked in apparent confusion. “I’m sorry, I thought you were bringing Mari Langdon. Um, I’m very pleased to meet you, Ms. Redux.” He finally took Ash’s hand, which she’d been holding out for a while now.
“Mr. Antone. Thank you for inviting me.”
The man’s confusion only deepened at her words. “Of course, of course.” He motioned to the side hallway with an open palm. “If you’ll come this way, the VIP section is through here. Mrs. Thackery arrived earlier and has already taken her seat.”
Not deigning to answer, Phyla simply nodded once. She entered the cordoned-off portion of the theater and glanced around. As Antone had said, Elondra was already seated. A barrel-chested gentleman sat on her right, and they had their heads together, chatting amiably.
To Phyla’s consternation, Athena Galinéa was also in attendance. She stood on the lower level, closer to the screen, talking with women whom Phyla had once considered friends. She supposed they still were, in a way, since there hadn’t been any real falling out. Falling off was more like it, with each one stepping away when they realized being friends with Phyla wouldn’t give them any cachet in the elite social circles since Phyla had moved beyond those same circles. She supposed she’d moved beyond her friends as well, something that she’d only started realizing since Ash had crash-landed in her life.
Athena looked edible in the latest Sandra Sandor leather skirt and blouse. She glanced up to their section, and it was painfully obvious to Phyla when she noticed Ash. She extricated herself from her circle of friends, grabbed two wine glasses from a passing waiter, and, using her curvaceous figure to full advantage, seductively strode up the many steps to where Phyla was settling in next to Elondra.
Phyla had just introduced herself to the wealthy landowner when she heard Athena’s distinctive Greek-accented voice greeting Ash. Suppressing the urge to swing around and snarl at the socialite and then warn her away caused more than a slight pain in her tightly clenched jaw. She forced her attention away from Ash’s answer to make small talk with the woman she’d chosen as her intended target for the evening.
Athena’s voice broke through Elondra’s polite rejoinders all the same. “It’s so good to see you again, Darling. I was hoping to hear from you after our first meeting at the cocktail party. Here, this is for you.”
Ash’s voice was too quiet for Phyla to hear her answer, but she didn’t dare turn away from Elondra to focus more closely on what was happening behind her back.
“I heard you financed this film. I’ve quite enjoyed Mars Antone’s other forays into the darker realms, haven’t you?”
Phyla realized Elondra had asked her a question, and she blinked when her usual ability to work through several different problems in her head while still holding up her end of a conversation failed her. She had no idea what the question was and was saved when the gentleman to Elondra’s right offered his opinion on the subject. Whatever the subject was.
His baritone voice almost covered Athena’s. Almost.
Athena prattled on. “Of course, you want it, Darling. I brought it up here just for you. A little wine is good for the soul, don’t you think? Wasn’t it Socrates who said, ‘wine moistens the soul and lulls our griefs to sleep?’ We Greeks are famous for enjoying good wine with our friends.”
Phyla couldn’t help herself. She turned in time to see the equivalent of a Greek goddess standing with her arm curled seductively through Ash’s elbow. She held a wine glass in both hands and was not taking no for an answer when Ash politely declined a second time. They were still standing in the aisle, and Athena moved as though to escort Ash down the steps. “Come on down where I can introduce you to my friends. We’re much more fun than the stuffy company you’ll find up here.” She tugged on Ash’s arm when she politely demurred. “Now, don’t be a stick in the mud, Darling. My—”
Her words turned into a mew of surprise when Phyla pointedly slipped the wine glass out of her hand and forcibly stepped between her and Ash so the other woman had to disentangle her arm or look like a fool clinging to her like a snail clings to a mollusk.
Phyla spoke loud enough for those around them to hear. “Athena. So good to see you again so soon. And thank you for this wine.” Her eyes flashed dangerously when she leaned in and hissed, “Run along if you know what’s good for you. The adults are in the room now.”
Athena had been horribly spoiled by her wealthy father, and although she’d been raised to take over the family business, she was painfully unprepared for that eventuality. Either she didn’t fully comprehend the dangerous waters she was swimming in, or she simply didn’t understand the damage Phyla could do to her father’s business interests around the globe. She threw her thick black hair over her shoulders with a flip of her hand and sounded like a petulant child when she said, “Really, Phyla, I think Ash is perfectly capable of making up her own mind about whom she’d rather be with during the screening of the film. Let’s ask her, shall we?”
Ash’s eyes had a definite glint of amusement when the two women turned her way. She refused to meet Phyla’s eyes and instead held out her hand to Athena, who visibly preened, believing she’d won out over the indomitable Phyla McGuire. “Athena. I’m honored you remembered me after our brief meeting. I certainly hadn’t forgotten you.” The admiring way Ash looked into Athena’s brown eyes sent the jealous anger roiling in Phyla’s veins to a whole new level. She stiffened until Ash laid a soft hand on the small of her back. “Maybe I can meet your friends some other time. I have to admit I’m looking forward to hearing Phyla’s take on the movie while it plays out on the screen for the first time. Thank you for the offer, though.”
With that, Ash turned her back on the two women and sat in Phyla’s seat next to Elondra Thackery.
Phyla turned one last glare on Athena, who lifted her chin and, retaining what dignity she had left, slowly made her way back down the steps to her friends. When Phyla turned and saw Ash sitting in her seat chatting with Elondra, she drank down the entire wine glass in one swallow and motioned a waiter over. After handing him her empty glass, she snapped. “Old Fashioned.”
He hurried away, and she sat and listened to what Ash and Elondra were saying. The serious glint in Elondra’s eyes stirred vague misgivings for Phyla, and when the older woman leaned in to speak, Phyla found herself leaning in to listen. “Your father, and now you, I suppose, own much of the land adjacent to my own meager parcel along the Oregon coast.”
Ash quietly corrected her, “I don’t refer to him as my father, Mrs. Thackery, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t either. Harcourt works just as well.”
Elondra studied Ash’s face. “But he was your….”
“For my sins, yes he was.”
Understanding filled Elondra’s eyes, “He wasn’t the easiest person to do business with.”
“He was a bastard, Mrs. Thackery. There’s no nice way to sugarcoat it.”
Phyla silently pulled in a breath, wishing Ash had more tact and social grace. She nearly touched Ash’s back to ask her to change seats when Elondra nodded.
“No, I suppose there’s not. I’ll get straight to the point, then. Harcourt had plans to develop that majestic coastline and put luxury condominiums and golf courses where deer and elk roam free and wolves run beneath the eagle’s wings. Is that in your future plans, as well?”
Ash reared back. “Fuck no!”
At that, Phyla did put a quieting hand on Ash’s shoulder before she could say anymore. “Ash has a master’s degree in environmental management, Elondra, and hopes to pivot to a more environmentally friendly philosophy.”
To Phyla’s surprise, Elondra laughed out loud. “I’ve heard you have a golden tongue, Phyla, and I see there’s truth to those rumors. But…and I don’t wish to give offense,” she looked directly into Phyla’s eyes, “that being said, I actually prefer Ash’s down-to-earth way of communicating to the polished words of a woman who’s made her fortune developing real estate around the world regardless of the damage her projects were doing to the environment.”
Taken aback, Phyla scrambled for something to say.
Ash beat her to it. “Actually, Mrs. Thackery—”
“Elondra.”
“Elondra. Phyla and I have had many, many conversations about ecology and the need to preserve the wild spaces we still have left. I think she might be coming around to our way of thinking.” She smiled over her shoulder at Phyla, who narrowed her eyes at Ash’s assumption that she needed saving.
The lights dimmed, and Elondra put a hand on Ash’s arm. “I’ll be in town for several days.” She opened her Lois Vuitton handbag and pulled out a card. “Would you consider meeting with me while I’m here?” She glanced over Ash’s shoulder and added as an aside, “And you, too, Phyla. I’d like to hear some of your ideas, Ash, about how the two of us together can preserve that wonderfully unique spot of heaven we have up there.”
Ash took the card and smiled, “I’d consider that an honor.”
The lights went completely dark, and Phyla only grumbled a little as she settled in to watch the screening. Her temper was assuaged somewhat when Ash leaned into her shoulder and snuggled in to make herself more comfortable. Amazingly, Phyla’s whole outlook improved from that point on.
Sixteen
Phyla stared out of her office window at the city skyline. It was midnight, but still, many of the buildings were lit up to accommodate people like her who either couldn’t sleep or who dreaded going home to an empty house. She’d been working with Ash for a little over a month now and found herself dreading the moments when Ash would grab her old, ratty coat from the closet and wish her a good evening.
She wondered whether Ash was at her friend’s bar, and if so, was she looking at another woman with the same want and desire in those untamed, amber eyes as she had every time Phyla caught her watching her as she worked? Despite the gestures being wildly inappropriate, Phyla found herself craving those times when Ash would gently touch her face, whisper in her ear, or lay a warm hand on the small of her back to get her attention.
Phyla had never been one to instigate intimate relations with anyone, and even considering her five-year marriage to her ex-husband, had never had the depth of feelings that had begun to grow for the homeless woman who’d come into her life like a steamroller and bowled her over with her charm and incongruous mixture of vulnerability and confidence.
Sipping the last of the bourbon she’d poured herself when Ash had left that evening, Phyla considered the progress they’d made so far. Once she’d let it be known through certain deliberately chosen words spoken into the right ears that she was overseeing HL Enterprises until Ash was ready to take the reins, the rumors of takeovers and rebellion had settled to a quiet roar instead of the loud clanging of discord she’d heard right after Harcourt’s death.
On that note, they were in the middle of changing over the name from HL Enterprises to simply Redux. Phyla thought it an elegant change, really. Redux, after all, signified rebirth, and Ash had incorporated a Phoenix rising from the ashes into the new logo.
Phyla blinked and then chuckled at how dense she’d been. She was usually quicker on the uptake, but Ash had put her off her stride from the first moment she’d walked into Allegra’s office, and if she was being honest with herself, Phyla was still reeling.
She thought back to that first day when Allegra had asked if Ash had a last name. She’d said, “Ash P. Redux” and had declined to give her middle name. Now, Phyla knew. Ash Phoenix Redux, a woman burned in the flames of a horrible childhood—although Phyla had no idea what would be so bad that an eventual heiress would leave the lap of luxury to live on the streets—had remade herself from the ashes into an intelligent, kind, caring, woman, albeit one with a serious case of PTSD.
That sent her mind to places she didn’t want to go, back to her brother, who’d been the captain of his high school rifle team. Jack had been so proud when the recruiter had tempted him with the idea of becoming a sniper. He’d looked so handsome at his graduation from marine boot camp and so broken when he’d returned.
