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loyal type.
She called each of the six plants across the country, explaining to her
managers what had happened and enlisting their aid in convincing those of
their employees who held stock not to sell. This task was somewhat easier.
The employees of Willow Enterprises were treated well; a threat to the
organization was a direct threat to their own well-being.
Between calls she met with her executive staff, all of whom were
stockholders as well. It was from this group that she found the greatest
support. Their fury at the takeover threat and determination that it wouldn't
succeed was a source of encouragement.
Nonetheless, by the time she'd returned home and made calls to several
stockholders she hadn't been able to reach earlier, she was totally drained. It
was all she could do to stumble into bed, and then she tossed and turned
fitfully until dawn, when she dressed and returned to the office to renew the
campaign for survival.
By ten in the morning, she was exhausted and discouraged. When her
secretary knocked on her door bearing a fresh cup of coffee, Jordanna
slumped in her chair and gave a wan smile. "Thanks, Leila. I need this."
"How's it going?"
"Oh, who knows? You make the calls and put forth your case and then hope
for the best." Setting the coffee to the side, she opened the Wall Street
Journal. "Have you seen it?"
"Yes," Leila answered. "It's pretty awful, don't you think?"
"God," she said in a defeated tone, "I've seen so many ads like this, never
imagining that one day Willow Enterprises would be the target. It seems so
unreal." She slapped the page. "But there it is. In black and white. A tender
offer that may be too sweet for some of our stockholders to resist. They've
probably all seen it by now. I can imagine what other papers it's in."
"They'll stick by you, Jordanna. I know they will. You've been good to
them. They can't ignore that fact."
"I'm hoping that's so. They've got to know that if Widener takes us over
things will change. And I doubt for the better-"
The ring of the phone from beyond the door broke into her words. With a
quiet, "Excuse me," Leila ran back to her desk to answer it.
"Take a message!" Jordanna called after her. "Have them call back in ten
minutes! I need a break!" She watched Leila slip into her chair and lift the
receiver, then turned off thought of who it might be. Coffee cup in hand, she
walked to the window.
She felt tired, so tired. And very, very empty. Things had happened so fast.
It seemed hard to believe that a mere twenty-four hours before she'd been so
innocent. Willow Enterprises had been hers then.
Tom had been right. With Alexander Shane's call, things had changed
irrevocably. They would never quite return to the old status quo, Jordanna
knew. And facing the loss of her company, she was suddenly less adverse to
the thought of a compromise solution.
For an instant she imagined what would happen if she did lose. The business
was her life. She had nothing else. Nothing... but dreams.
And he hadn't called.
Setting her coffee cup on the sill when her hand began to shake, she pressed
her fingers to her mouth. Even before all this had happened, she'd felt
empty. There was only one man who could fill that emptiness, and he was
"Jordanna?"
Certain she'd only imagined his voice, she closed her eyes against the sting
of tears.
"Jordanna?"
This time the voice was closer, very familiar, very dear. And real. Turning
sharply, hand still pressed to her mouth, she focused through misty eyes on
the man she'd missed so desperately for the past four weeks. She tried to say
his name, but her lips only made the movements.
Patrick walked steadily forward, his heart pounding at the simple sight of
her. He felt her anguish, had felt it the instant he'd opened the paper that
morning. And suddenly who she was hadn't mattered, whose wife she'd
been, who saw. He'd had to come. He needed to be there for her.
When he was a hand's width away, he stopped. He had his needs. But what
about hers? What if she didn't want to see him, particularly at this time? He
saw the pain in her eyes, the glimmer of tears. And he thought he'd die if he
couldn't help her.
The tears welled higher, then began to trickle one by one down her cheeks.
He was about to reach out and smooth them away when Jordanna swayed
toward him Then she was in his arms, clinging as tightly to him as he was to
her. And the waiting was over.
"Ahh, angel," he crooned, hugging her as she wept softly. "Shh. It's all right.
Everything's going to be all right now."
She didn't argue. She couldn't. Somehow, in Patrick's embrace, she believed
it for the first time. The conviction was irrational. Emotional. She knew it,
but that didn't matter. Things had indeed taken on a different perspective.
"Oh, Pat," she whispered, when at last she was able to speak, "I'm so glad
you're here."
His arms trembled as he held her tighter. "I've been wanting to come. You
have no idea how much. But I was afraid. Of so many things. Then, when I
saw Widener's notice this morning, those other things didn't seem to matter
anymore. I love you, Jordanna. I want to be here. I want to help. I know how
much Willow Enterprises means to you."
But she Was shaking her head against his cheek. "I love you too, Pat. I m
glad you're here. So glad you're here."
He held her face then, brushing at her tears with his thumbs. His gaze
adored her, reacquainting itself with each of her features as though it had
been years rather than weeks since he'd seen her last. When he kissed her,
his lips spoke of the pent-up longing, the anguish that was hers, now theirs.
He smiled. "You've grown."
"I'm wearing heels."
"And a skirt and silk blouse and makeup."
Self-conscious, she ran a finger beneath her eye. "I must be a mess."
It was Patrick's turn to shake his head. "You look beautiful. Very chic and
sophisticated Of course, I still like the way you look totally bare."
She smiled for the first time in more than twenty- four hours, and rubbed her
forehead against his chin. "You men are all the same. One-track minds, all
of you,"
"No, angel," he murmured gently. "I love you the way no man EVER has or
ever will. I'VE been a fool to wait this long to tell you. These past four weeks
I've been surviving on memory alone. But I need more now. You're warm
and wonderful. The thought of you gives me life. You have no idea how
much I admire you."
His words brought reality back with a thud. "Oh, Pat," she whispered, eyes
filling again, "what am I going to do?"
Taking her under his wing, he guided her to the sofa on one side of her
office. "You're going to relax, first of all: You look like you haven't slept in
a week.''
"It was really only a night. Funny how a takeover attempt can do that to a
person."
They were sitting on the sofa, knees touching as they faced each other.
Patrick took her hands in his.
"It's so awful, Pat. I mean, it never occurred to me that we'd run into trouble
like this. Hostile offers are for other firms. Not Willow Enterprises. We
were doing so well on our own. And I've poured so much of my life into
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