Tempting The Mogul. Marcia King-Gamble

Tempting The Mogul - Marcia King-Gamble


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you say to all your girls. If you’ll give me a few minutes to change, I’ll have Tilly fix us something to eat.”

      Salim handed her the gift he’d brought all the way back from Zimbabwe. In exchange he received another tight hug.

      “Oh, Salim, you shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did. This jewelry box is beautiful. Give me five minutes to get dressed and then meet me in the sunroom.”

      True to her word, Lucinda arrived in the sunroom at the appointed time. Salim was already comfortably seated in a wingback chair, sipping bottled water and watching a muted television with one eye. When he stood, she wrapped him in another tight embrace.

      “What’s really brought you here?” she asked, olding Salim away from her and examining him with a critical eye.

      “I came to talk to you,” he answered.

      “About?”

      “What’s going on with your husband’s health?”

      “Did your father say something to you?” his mother hedged.

      “The old man summoned me to the studio, Mom. He says he has health issues. It’s the first time I’ve heard of heart problems. If I’m being manipulated I’d like to know. I canceled a ticket to Haiti and put my life on hold. Tell me what’s going on.”

      “He didn’t want you or Christiane to worry,” Lucinda said in a soft voice.

      “Really? All his life it’s always been about him.”

      Lucinda took the chair across from Salim and crossed a shapely leg. Salim sat back down and waited for his mother to begin.

      “Your father is not the ogre you make him out to be. If he’s reaching out to you, it’s because he needs you to step up and take over. The diagnosis from his doctor is not good.”

      Salim cracked his knuckles so hard Lucinda flinched.

      He didn’t know what to say. “Why didn’t you call me and warn me this was coming, Ma? I’m not management material. I don’t even own a suit.”

      She held up a hand, silencing him. “A suit does not make the man. You’ll have plenty of help running TSW. Your dad pays his executive team well for their expertise. What we need is a strong presence at the studio while I nurse him back to health.”

      The comment propelled Salim out of his seat. He snorted and began circling the room. “The whole corporate thing makes me want to gag, Ma. I’m not much for the politics or phony people.”

      “Then let’s not talk about the situation,” Lucinda said, accepting the cup of tea Tilly handed her. “Tell me about Africa. The jewelry box you brought me is quite lovely and very well crafted. I’ll use it to keep my everyday rings.”

      For the next hour while they visited, Lucinda caught him up on what was happening in her life and he shared his. She shared how worried she was about Tanner’s upcoming surgery.

      Despite Salim’s feelings about his father, he threaded his fingers through his mother’s and squeezed her hand hard. Lucinda sniffled loudly and took a sip from her cup. Speaking more to herself than to him, she said, “There’s nothing more relaxing than a well-brewed cup of tea.”

      By subtly shifting the conversation, they ended the visit on an upbeat note.

      In an overt act of rebelliousness, Salim arrived at TSW studios on Thursday in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that had seen better days. His father was nowhere to be found when he arrived. Diane made the usual excuses.

      “Your dad’s in a meeting,” she said, pointing him to a seat and picking up yet another phone. Salim soon got tired of hanging out in the waiting area. He was about to take a walk when along came Kennedy Fitzgerald. Today she was dressed in another of those sharp conservative suits.

      Today’s getup was a pin-striped suit, the skirt skimming the knees of her beautifully shaped legs. Pearls circled her neck and she sported matching earrings. No one dressed like this in Seattle, not even the lawyers. But Kennedy Fitzgerald made her conservative suit look becoming, even sexy.

      The three-inch heels of her pumps beat out a rat-atat as she approached Diane’s desk.

      “I’m a few minutes early,” she said in a very refined voice.

      “Unfortunately, Mr. Washington is running a few minutes late. Why don’t you introduce yourself to Salim, his son? He’s seated over there.” Di pointed a finger to the corner where he was seated. “You two are in the same meeting and this may be a good opportunity to get acquainted.”

      He could kill Diane. She’d put him in a spot. Now he couldn’t very well walk away without being rude. He forced himself to smile, wave and pat the spot next to him. “Please join me. There’s plenty of space.”

      Kennedy looked at him as if she smelled something slightly unpleasant. She started toward him gingerly.

      The words popped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

      “You look lovely,” he said.

      He was surprised when Kennedy Fitzgerald actually had the grace to blush.

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