…and Caroline had completely and utterly fallen for him.
Without thinking, her fingers flew to her bare thigh. Gone. The garter was gone. He’d taken it with him. Released her. No, please. No. She’d wanted to be free, thought it was the only way to be happy, when happiness was belonging to Jonah.
Caroline jumped out of bed and ran for the kitchen, firing up her laptop. She recognized this moment in time for what it was. She could admit defeat, wallow in self-pity indefinitely and hope someday a man came along who made her feel one-tenth the way Jonah made her feel. Or she could stop feeling sorry for herself, wake the hell up, and focus on making it right. Namely, getting Jonah back.
She wanted, needed to be with him. Not in spite of who he was but because of it. She’d never been surer of anything in her life. All her dogged worries about disappointing her family and friends had led only to her disappointing herself. She’d condemned him without giving him a chance, put limits on their relationship as if she were ashamed to be associated with him. Just thinking about it made her feel nauseous. If Jonah took her back, she would be one incredibly lucky woman, and she planned to make sure everyone knew it.
Oh, and it wouldn’t hurt to save her family business from ruin while she was at it. Before she could even allow herself the freedom to hope, actions needed to be taken. A phone call or showing up with cupcakes on his doorstep would not suffice. Not by a long shot. Deeds not words. Of all the lessons she’d taken from her father, this one had stuck with her, and it applied now.
Caroline devised a plan. It was brash, risky, and completely unlike her. Carrying it out would mean the end of the life she’d created and the beginning of a new, unfamiliar one. Frankly, it terrified her. She’d never opened herself up for ridicule or criticism before, conscious that everything she did reflected on the Preston name. But her happiness was at stake. She couldn’t imagine time would erase the pain of losing Jonah. Just the thought of never seeing him again spiraled her into a panic. Deep in her bones, she knew she was doing the right thing. She hoped her father would see it like that someday.
Just after dawn started to break, Caroline attached the exposé on Joseph Kimble’s Ponzi scheme to an email and typed a quick explanation to her contact. This was the accumulation of all her hard work. The exposé that would put Preston’s back on the map. When printed on their front page, it would make them a viable news source once again.
But instead of sending it to her editor at Preston’s, she sent it to the New York Times.
…
With a calm she didn’t feel, Caroline took her seat at the ancient conference room table. The same one she’d made a fort beneath on Take Your Daughter to Work Day five years running, until she’d grown too cool for forts and started shadowing her father’s every move. Boy, the idea of crawling underneath the solid oak table right now, however, was mighty appealing.
Now or never, Caroline. You’re not a little girl anymore who just wants her father to be proud of her. You are a woman who makes her own decisions. This is one of them.
“Right.” Philip clapped his hands together once, nodding sternly at her and Oliver in turn. That was his unofficial signal, announcing the end of family time and the commencement of business concerns. She and Oliver exchanged anxious glances, but he softened his with a wink. “I’d planned on beginning this meeting with the vote. But I’m anxious to share some news.”
Caroline’s heart slowed to a dull beat as her father sent her a knowing look. She hadn’t anticipated this. She’d planned on the vote coming first.
Oliver showed no visible reaction. “What news?”
She couldn’t look at her brother, could only stare as Philip rose to stand in front of the picture window overlooking the Financial District. “I’m retiring. Effective immediately.” He bestowed a proud look on her, one that almost made her resolve take a nosedive. “Caroline will replace me as president. I trust her to bring Preston’s into the present gracefully. In fact, I can’t wait to see what she does. The paperwork has already been signed and filed.”
You might want to hold that thought. “Thank you, Father.” She could feel disbelief radiating from Oliver, even if his face showed exactly none of it, remaining cool and impassive. “I didn’t anticipate you making the announcement so soon, but apparently this promises to be the day for surprises.”
“Well. This is your meeting now, Caroline.” Philip sat once more and straightened his tie. “Why not make the vote your first order of business? Do we pursue Oliver’s proposal to transform Preston’s into a lifestyle magazine, in which, as he describes it, finance is combined with adventure?” He leaned back in his chair, seemingly unconcerned. “Or do we remind readers why they’ve trusted Preston’s for five decades by pursuing newer, bigger advertisers and thinking outside the box?”