I walked inside and was immediately greeted by the warehouse workers who offered their condolences and told me how glad they were that I was there to take over for my father. I swallowed the lump of bitter resentment that formed in the back of my throat, and I nodded as I thanked them for their warm welcome before heading up to the offices on the second floor.
"Mr. Yates!" Norma Tatz called as I walked through the door. "It's so good to see you! My, don't you look like a biscuit covered in honey this morning!"
"Good morning, Ms. Tatz," I nodded as I walked past her desk.
"Oh honey, you don't need to be so formal with me," she said in her cheerful southern accent. "Now that you're the boss, why don't you just call me Norma and get on with it?"
Norma was originally from St. Charles Parish just outside of New Orleans, and she always threw out some southern-flavored observation. She was a short, compact woman who looked like she had been built to withstand a hurricane, both in body and in hair. She meticulously maintained her personal appearance through the heavy use of hairspray and cosmetics, the smell of which entered a room long before she did. She was cheerful, but tough, since she had always been the boundary between my father and everyone who wanted a few minutes of his time. As a child she had intimidated me but, as an adult, I could see how useful her honeyed tone and iron will could be.
"All right, Norma," I said as I dredged up a smile and tried to make it look like I was happy to be there. If I was going to survive this tenure at Baby Steps, I was definitely going to need Norma on my side. "I'd like to look at the financials for the past five years and then find out what projects my father was planning for the next year."
"It's all on your desk, darlin'," Norma chirped. "I was fixin' to get the ten year financials, but then thought that might be overdoing it."
"Thank you, Norma," I said, bowing my head slightly as I turned toward the office. On the desk, in neat stacks, were all the documents I'd asked for and then some. Norma had thought ahead and given me everything that she thought I might need in order to understand the business and, as the morning wore on, she continued to add to the piles.
By lunchtime, I'd read through most of what she'd given me and had a pretty clear understanding of where the company had been and where it was headed. My father had been an exceptional businessman and had entrusted a great deal of the day-to-day operations to the woman who ran the warehouse. It became obvious to me that if I was going to truly understand what was going on, I would have to work closely with her until I was up to speed.
"Norma!" I called from behind my desk. "Can you get Leah Walsh up here to talk about the warehouse?"
"She'll be here in ten minutes, darlin'!" Norma called back as the phone rang, and she answered it. I could hear
her talking with someone she obviously knew well, as she tossed in a few "Sure thing, sugars" before hanging up.
At that moment, I realized that if I played my cards right, I might not have to do a whole lot of work. If my father had trained and entrusted all of his employees the way he'd done with Norma, then this company might just be able to run itself while I functioned as a figurehead, at least until we found a suitable CEO. I smiled as I plotted the ways in which I'd be able to escape the office for a few rounds of golf and have some leisurely lunches with a few of the beautiful New York socialites I'd met on my travels.
"This might not be as bad as I thought it would be," I murmured to myself. "I can manage this."
"Hopefully I can make it a little easier for you, Mr. Yates," Leah Walsh said as she entered my office.
I looked up and saw the pretty little blue-eyed girl I'd kissed at my father's wake standing in the doorway holding a clipboard and offering a warm smile. I had no idea how old she was, but I guessed her to be midway to thirty. At the wake, her hair had been pulled up into a severe ponytail. But now the long dark waves framed her face and, with the splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks, she looked even prettier than I had remembered. Her face looked friendly, but her body knocked it out of the park. Unlike most of the women I'd met on my travels, Leah was shorter and much curvier. I could see the outline of her figure under her warehouse uniform and it quickly reminded me of the few moments I'd held her soft body against my own. I quickly shifted my gaze back to her face as she crossed the room,
"I'm Leah Walsh," she said as she held her hand out.
"It's nice to see you again, Ms. Walsh," I said as I stood and shook her hand. She didn't say anything about the moment we'd shared at the wake, which left me wondering if she remembered it.
"It's nice to see you again, too, Mr. Yates," she said, still smiling. "But please, call me Leah. Your father did."
"Well, Leah," I said as I looked down into her bright-blue eyes and returned the smile. "Then you'll need to call me Jack."
"All right, Jack," she said as she looked down at her clipboard and then back up at me. "Would you like to tour the facility with me?"
"I'd love to, Leah," I said as I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair. "I'll follow you."
It took a lot of control not to let my gaze settle on the gentle sway of Leah's hips as she led me to the warehouse, and even more control not to let the images I had of how it had felt to kiss her play in my mind.
Chapter Ten
Leah
I could feel Jack's eyes on me as I led him through the warehouse and explained the various points of operation. I wasn't sure if he was sizing me up as part of his team or if he viewed me as an obstacle.
I had done a bit of research on him when I'd found out that he would be taking over for his father, and I found that he had a reputation as an international playboy. What I read about him made it hard for me to take him seriously as a businessman who would run Baby Steps the way his father had—responsibly.
"Over here is the shipping and receiving area," I said, pointing to the offices in the back of the warehouse where a group of workers were boxing orders that had been gathered from the shelves.
"So, what exactly is it that we do differently from the competition, Leah?" Jack asked as he looked around. His face registered a low level of interest and a high level of boredom, and I resented that this was taking time away from my duties to show him the ropes. Even more, I resented that I wanted to stare at him and, more than that, I wanted to ask him if he remembered kissing me in the parking lot at the wake.
Jackson Yates was a man who drew attention. He was taller than his father had been and had broader shoulders. And whereas Bernard had had a stern but warm face, Jack's face radiated an intense sensuality that made him impossible to ignore. His thick, brown hair was long enough to make girls want to run their fingers through it, and his facial hair had been trimmed just close enough for him to appear groomed, but rugged. His eyes were a warm shade of brown, highlighted by gold flecks, and they radiated an intensity that made it difficult to look away. I felt angry with him for being so handsome and so hard to read.