“We were under the impression that you had been invited to meet with us several times, but declined. Your brothers assured us that you have repeatedly refused their requests to speak with them.”
“That’s surprising considering that until a couple of days ago, they were both guests in my home.”
There was a horrible, awkward silence, during which both her brothers floundered and gasped for air, while several members of the board exchanged glances and frowned at the screen.
“There must have been a miscommunication,” Dennis said, lying unconvincingly. “But be that as it may, it doesn’t change the fact that the board is concerned about this loan venture of yours, in which you are offering sums of money to people who may not be able to pay back what they’ve taken.”
“I’m going to stop you right there. We have had this conversation several times before. Both one and one and in the presence of the entire board. And more than once I have asserted that this loan facility is not just a good business move, it will contribute greatly to our Corporate Social Responsibility program.” She paused, struggling to hide her exasperation. “But you know what? I think I’ll let the figures speak for themselves. Sienna, are you still on the line?”
“Yes, Ms. Clark,” she answered in a businesslike tone.
“Please guide the members of the board—and my brothers—through the presentation we were last discussing.”
She sat back, pressing her lips tightly for the next twelve minutes, listening with pride and admiration as Sienna calmly explained the project and its benefits for all concerned. By the time she was done, the board members were staring incredulously, not at Chantelle, but at Dennis and Tom.
“You took us away from our Sunday brunches for this, Dennis?” one asked irritably.
“I—” Dennis blustered.
“Our apologies for disturbing you, Ms. Clark,” said another. “Since our questions have been adequately dealt with, will someone move that this ‘emergency meeting’ be adjourned?”
Chantelle couldn’t hide her pleasure at the fact that Sienna had done so well, and that her brothers had been busted in their duplicity. When the call was over, and the male Clarks sheepishly said goodbye, she ended the call, and she and Dustin were alone again—with several boxes of pizza that had gone cold.
Ugh.
Dustin was looking at her admiringly. “Good job,” he said. “You sure convinced them.”
She felt pride roll through her. “It was Sienna’s facts and figures that did the trick,” she protested modestly.
He wasn’t swayed. “But it’s your idea and your project. And for what it’s worth, I think it’s an excellent idea. And I’d be proud to be on a board led by you.”
If she hadn’t been feeling so queasy again, the pride in his voice would have made this moment perfect.
Chapter 29
It was weird how things happened so fast. How everything could turn on a dime. Chantelle stood in front of the antique mirror in her bedroom with her t-shirt rolled up to her ribs, admiring the bump that had transformed her tummy practically overnight. One moment, she’d been worried about whether she was showing fast enough, still at the stage when nobody could guess, and the next, there it was. Clear visual evidence that she was having a baby.
“Is it getting bigger, do you think?” she asked Dustin, who was moving around in the room behind her. In the handful of days since that farce of a board meeting engineered by her brothers, Dustin had wordlessly moved back into her bedroom, and he’d become more reserved, which she was pretty sure had to do with the phone calls he’d been receiving.
And since he’d moved in, they’d spent every night making love well into the early hours of the morning, much to Minerva’s chagrin, because it meant that most nights she’d be sleeping in the clothes hamper in the bathroom. It was a good thing she liked Dustin, or she’d be making her displeasure known.
She’d even cooked a few meals for him in the kitchen, asking Rosemarie to leave early rather than stay behind to prepare dinner.
Dustin stopped what he was doing to glance at her, his gaze moving from her tummy to thereflectionof her tummy in the mirror. “Wait,” he said warily, “is a woman really asking me if she looks fatter than she did before? Do I look reckless enough to answer?”
She giggled, surprising both of them with the girlish sound. “It’s notfat,fat. It’s baby-type fat. And no, I won’t pound you.”
He stepped closer, touching her lightly on the little bulge. “In that case, yes, it’s grown a bit.”
She shrugged, still admiring herself. “I guess that’s what they mean when they say you ‘pop’.” Chantelle had enjoyed this past week with it being just thethreeof them. Four if you counted Minerva. She would forever cherish those memories with him.
“I guess.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, maybe even kiss her, but faded away, moving in and out of her bedroom.
She sighed softly. As she’d said, things happened fast. She rolled down her t-shirt and sat on the bed, listening to the sounds of his movements, her mind rebelling against the reality of what was happening right now, and instead retreating to last night’s events.
They’d invited her friends, William and Alex, over with their wives and babies, along with Nathanael and his wife Shaundra. It had been relaxed and pleasant; most of it had revolved around babies and children, and Chantelle eagerly asked questions, happy for the benefit of the other women’s experiences.
Then the banter and chat degenerated to a gossip session among the girls, something that Chantelle didn’t often experience, but which she enjoyed enormously. It was good to have girlfriends.