Summer Escape with the Tycoon

At the appointed time they were at the dock for the floatplane that would take them on their tour. The single-turbine plane had room for six passengers, but it was only the two of them this morning since

Molly had booked it as a last-minute private charter.

“Welcome aboard,” the pilot greeted them, and with excitement churning through her belly, Molly got in and buckled her seat belt.

“This is pretty cool, Molly.” Eric snapped his belt, too, and looked over at her. “I’ve done a lot of things, but I’ve never been in a seaplane.”

“Me either. I’m a little nervous about the takeoff and landing.”

“Don’t worry,” the pilot called back as the propeller began to spin and the engine revved to life. “Water’s nice and smooth today and we have perfect flying conditions. Just sit back and enjoy the flight.”

They held hands as the pilot steered the plane out onto the water and then opened up the throttle, propelling them forward and then into the air. The city appeared below them—the stone buildings and vast trees and the white boats bobbing in a perfect rectangle in the inner harbor. They banked to the left, taking them along the southern end of the island, and Molly let out a breath. She peered out the window and took a few pictures with her new phone, and then glanced back at Eric, who should have been watching the scenery but instead had his eyes on her. She’d fallen for him; that was all there was to it.

She was just about to say so when her phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down and saw it was a text from Ryan, and she hurriedly opened the message to see what news he had to her follow-up questions.

You asked about the company with the offer on the table. It’s EPC Industries. Owned by a Canadian, Eric Chambault, out of Montreal. Is there more you need?

Molly’s gaze snapped over to Eric, who was watching her quizzically. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Just some unexpected news.” She was still trying to digest it all. “I spoke to Ryan this morning—he’s the one I went to the benefit with where I bid on the trip. He’s the one who got me the in at the opioid clinic.”

“Okay. Go on.”

“He’s got a personal stake there, so it made sense to call him about it, you know? But this morning he mentioned another project that might need legal help, and he sent a bunch of information through. A business in Waltham, it turns out. Great R-and-D department, doing some really great things. Financially, though, it’s been mismanaged, and another company is looking at stepping in and buying them out.”

“Huh. Sounds familiar.” He smiled at her. “So what’s the problem?”

Her stomach turned strangely, and it had nothing to do with the airplane or any turbulence. They weren’t even looking at the scenery anymore, and Molly got the feeling she was walking a tightrope, only she wasn’t sure why.

“The company is Atlantic Bionics.”

His smile dropped. “I see.”

“And the company poised to take it over is EPC Industries. You, Eric. Isn’t that a crazy coincidence?”

He nodded. “Not so crazy. It’s why I was in Boston last spring, when I saw you at the benefit.”

“Well, they want to bring me on board to help fight the takeover.” She leaned over and took his hand. “Surely you can see the good of a company like that. Why would you want to strip it and sell the assets? Can’t you walk away from this one? Maybe if they’re given time, they can come back from their financial issues, you know? I did some quick reading up this morning. They need a guiding hand, not to be torn apart bit by bit.”

“I don’t ‘tear things apart,’ Molly. I buy businesses in trouble. Many of them go on in new iterations that are stronger and far more viable.”

“But why take over? Why not invest in it instead? Or just leave it alone?”

His mouth dropped open. “Are you seriously asking me to walk away from a multimillion-dollar deal, after we’ve put countless resources and man-hours into it? As a favor?”

Why was his voice so low and dangerous? Good heavens, for the last week they’d talked lots about making a difference and what didn’t make them happy. “Think about it,” she continued, injecting some excitement into her voice. “Instead of breaking it up you could help it. Invest in it and make a huge difference! Think of all the people you could help! You said you wanted to get away from everything being about dollar signs—this could be it, Eric.”

“So what are you asking? For me to sink money into a dying business, or to walk away from something I’ve been working on for over a year?”

She sat back. “I—I don’t know.”

“I didn’t think you...” He cursed under his breath, then turned and looked out the window. They were going over some island or something now, but the flight was ruined and she didn’t quite know why.

“You’re angry.”

“I’m angry at myself. For thinking you were different.”

The words were like a slap in the face, and Molly retreated as if struck. “What do you mean?” she asked quietly, so quietly her voice could barely be heard over the sound of the engine.