She reached into a drawer, pulled out a manila envelope and placed it next to his file.
“Really?” She tapped the envelope. “Because I could ask you about a similar buyout. In reverse.”
His forehead furrowed before he dropped into one of the two leather club chairs in front of her desk. “Our companies are exchanging shares? That doesn’t make sense.”
She jabbed a manicured finger in his direction. “Your father is up to something and I don’t appreciate this push-back since my dad died. It’s sexist to assume we’re weaker without a man at the helm.”
Her shoulders went back defensively as she sat taller and straighter. She would not allow Broderick Steele or his father to intimidate her.
“You talk about sex a lot.” He tipped his arrogant head to the side and glanced at the yellow sofa tucked behind him. One damn look loaded with suggestion.
“Shut up and listen to me.” She barely resisted the urge to stamp her foot.
“I am. It’s fun to watch your cheeks go pink.” He clapped a hand to his chest. “And by the way, my mother always told me it’s rude to tell people to shut up.” A sardonic smile played along his lips.
“Rude? Talking about sex in a business meeting is rude.” She scooped up a brass paperweight in the shape of a bear that had belonged to her father. Shifting it from hand to hand was an oddly comforting ritual. Or perhaps not so odd. When she was a small girl, her father had told her the statue gave people power, attributing his success to the brass bear. After the last two years of loss, Glenna needed every ounce of luck and power she could get. “I’m not in line to join the Alaskan female dating population ready to fawn over you.”
“I didn’t ask you to, and there’s no need to threaten me with your version of brass knuckles. You’re safe with me.” Humor left his face and his expression became all business. “But since you’re as bemused by this data as I am, come with me to speak to your mother.”
“Of course. Let’s do that. We’ll have this sorted out in no time.”
The sooner the better.
She wanted Broderick Steele out of her office and not a simple touch away.
* * *
Broderick was pushing his luck with Glenna, but this woman got to him in a way no one else ever had.
When they were in college, he’d told himself it was the warring-families, forbidden-fruit thing that had drawn them to each other. Except, he still craved her.
Usually he kept those feelings in check by staying as far away from this particular blonde bombshell as possible.
But today he’d received disturbing paperwork about stocks changing hands.
“Are you ready to speak to your mother about this now? We need to know who on your board, or on mine, is messing with our companies.”
She looked up, her blue eyes as crystal clear as the Alaska sky after a storm. “Yes, absolutely, the sooner the better. She’s here today. I met with her earlier this morning.” Glenna nodded, rose and stepped to the front of her desk.
Holy hell. He damn near swallowed his tongue.
Her pencil skirt hugged her curves and set his imagination on fire. The suit jacket plunged, and even though a white blouse covered almost all her skin, that V… He forced his eyes away out of respect.
And to preserve his sanity.
“After you,” he said.
He worked to keep himself in check, to stay steady even though proximity to her sent him reeling. He followed her past a sitting area in her office with that yellow sofa and two chairs clustered around a fireplace.
She glanced over her shoulder, blond hair swishing in a golden curtain. “Mother’s office is two floors up. We’ll settle this. Not to worry.”
Without another word, she charged through the door, boot heels muted against the plush carpet. The wall of windows along one side of the corridor provided an awe-inspiring view of the mountains. It might be spring everywhere else in America. But here in Alaska, snow still capped the peaks.
Sunshine streamed through the windows and over Glenna. To keep his eyes off her swaying hips and the killer leather boots, he checked out the art on the other wall. Yet again he was struck by the differences between the Mikkelson corporate offices and his family’s building on the other side of Anchorage’s business district. The Steele headquarters had a more modern look, sleek and tall in a way that reminded him of his home state, like an ice sculpture filled with coal and grit and gold.
The Mikkelson offices harkened back to old-school Alaska, with a rugged elegance denoted by pelt rugs and wooden furniture heavy enough to remind people nothing fragile lasted in this land. To make it here, you had to be born of sturdy stock.