Cherish Hard
Page 22

Check and mate.
14
Criminal Acts… and a Well-Deserved Punch to a Smug Face
ÍSA REALIZED SHE’D BEEN MASTERFULLY played.
This had been Jacqueline’s plan all along. But if there was one thing Jacqueline Rain had done well as a parent, it was to raise a daughter who was no pushover. “Trying to mold me into a cutthroat businesswoman will just leave you with the migraine to end all migraines,” she pointed out without budging from her spot. “I don’t have the head or the desire for it.”
“You have the head,” Jacqueline countered. “I made sure of that. As for the desire, we both know teaching was your rebellion against my lack of maternal instincts.”
Ísa rolled her eyes. “Hate to break it to you, Mother, but the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
“Whether it does or not,” Jacqueline said easily, “you only have two options at this point. Take the VP position and appoint Harlow as the intern, or don’t.”
“You’re truly stooping to blackmail using your own stepson?”
That dragonish smile returned. “It’s not blackmail, my dear. After all, I’ll be paying you a rather large sum of money for your services.”
Ísa was surprised to realize she could still be taken aback by Jacqueline’s cold-blooded nature. “And you think I’m like you? You think I’d do this to a child of mine?” Ísa would love her child with fierce devotion—she’d have to be careful not to love too much, that was her problem.
Ísa always loved too deeply, too openly once she let someone into her heart.
“You’re very much like me, Ísalind,” Jacqueline said, her smile turning amused. “You might as well admit it. However, since you also inherited my stubbornness and won’t admit anything that might give me a psychological advantage, I’m going to show you.” She straightened. “I want you to see what you’re capable of, what you’re throwing away in your childish rebellion.”
Ísa tried to think like a dragon—or like a man with demon-blue eyes and far too much confidence. “Aren’t you worried I’ll sabotage you from the inside?”
“What I’ve built, this company, it’s a family legacy.” Unperturbed, Jacqueline crossed the carpet to Ísa. “You’d never do anything to harm that.”
Unfortunately, her mother was right. Ísa had too much family loyalty running through her blood to destroy the company out of spite. Especially not when it was Harlow’s dream and might well one day help Catie achieve hers. “There are more senior people in the company.”
“All of whom know this is a family operation—most of them helped train you through your teenage years. They’re all aware the VP position has always been yours.”
That, too, was unfortunately true. Ísa had been groomed to be her mother’s successor since childhood.
“So, do we have a deal?” Jacqueline held out her hand. “I’ll give the boy a shot. In return, you take on the VP’s job and do it to the best of your ability.”
“Only for the summer.”
Jacqueline shook her head. “No.”
“That’s my offer, take it or leave it.” Harlow would’ve proven himself by the end of that period, of that Ísa was certain—and what Catie needed, Jacqueline would never stint in providing. That was the thing with Jacqueline—she could, at times, have blood full of ice, but she’d also rewritten the rulebook for the entire company after Catie came out of the hospital.
Many corporations talked the talk, but very few put their money where their mouth was. Crafty Corners, in contrast, did not ever operate out of—or hold external events in—any building that wasn’t fully accessible to all. That single change had wide-ranging implications, one of which was that employees weren’t cut off from the internal promotion track by default because they couldn’t physically make it to important briefings or networking opportunities.
Staff also had access to company vehicles modified for use by people with disabilities, with a number specifically adapted for specific individuals who weren’t able to utilize the pool vehicles. It wasn’t unusual to find brail text next to printed text in places like the elevators, and all staff, from front line to senior executives, were expected to learn and understand sign language.
That was only the tip of the iceberg.
Jacqueline had a standing order that issues of access were to be referred straight to her for immediate remediation.
All of that was public knowledge. But what only a handful of people knew was that Jacqueline sponsored a program that helped children and teenagers get back on the educational or training track after they’d lost months, possibly years, in a fight for their very lives.
Maybe all that was why Ísa couldn’t just cut the bond between them. Because, despite appearances to the contrary, there was a speck of humanity inside the Dragon—a deeply, deeply hidden speck. Now that same dragon’s eyes glinted with unhidden pride, as if Ísa had made her day with her mutinous lack of cooperation.
“Fine. Your VP contract will be for the summer only.”
It was obvious Jacqueline thought Ísa would be well entrenched in the corporate world by then, with no desire to leave. Which told Ísa exactly how well Jacqueline knew her. Because Ísa would rather take up chewing nails as a fun downtime hobby.
“I’ve already committed to teaching night classes at the school. I won’t pull out of that. I gave my word.”
“If you’ll recall, I’m the one who taught you to keep your word.” Still clearly in a good mood after her bout of familial blackmail, Jacqueline put her hands on her hips. “How many hours will that take out of your schedule?” When Ísa told her, she said, “Done. I’ll have Annalisa bring in the contract.”
Ísa was entirely unsurprised to discover the contract had already been drawn up. Jacqueline had been sure she’d win. She always won. Except when she didn’t care about the outcome. Then she just pulled out of the fight. As Catie’s father had discovered when he’d made noises about a custody battle.
Jacqueline had taken the opportunity to sign over full custody to Clive.
It was forty minutes later, after Ísa had read and signed the contract, insisting on a number of changes along the way—all of which made Jacqueline beam like a proud lioness—that she couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Who was the man I met as I came in?” she asked in a voice as casual as casual could be while her heart thumped and her thighs pressed tightly together.
“Noticed his blue eyes did you?” Jacqueline asked, her own gaze on the contract as she checked that Ísa had signed everywhere she was required to sign.
Obviously, the Dragon didn’t trust her progeny with the killer instinct not to wriggle out of the agreement unless it was ironclad.
“You have good taste,” Jacqueline continued. “Have fun, but don’t let him distract you from the job. And for God’s sake, don’t start believing you’re in love with a nice piece of ass like I did with Clive and make the mistake of marrying him. Sleep with him and get him out of your system.”
“Mother.” That was pushing it even for Jacqueline.
Not appearing the least abashed, her mother put down the contract at last. “Sailor Bishop’s a new contractor—landscaping. Some excellent ideas, so if you do sleep with him, try not to dump him until after he’s completed the job. I once made that mistake with another contractor—he kept breaking down into tears on the job and couldn’t even give me a concise site report.”