Free To Love Again by Danielle Steel Page A

than it had been a little while before when he had shouted and slammed the door.
    She nodded, looking away for a moment and then back at him. Stupid, isn't it? I know you need to get things from his office sometimes. So do I.
    You can't turn it into a shrine, Isabella. His voice was soft, but his eyes firm. She was already doing that to the business. He wondered how long it would go on.
    I know.
    He stood uneasily in the doorway, not sure this was the time. But when? When could he ask her? When could he tell her what he thought? Can we talk for a minute, or are you very busy?
    I have some time. Her tone wasn't very inviting. She forced herself to gentle her voice. Maybe he wanted to apologize for what he had just said as he slammed out of her office a little while before. Is there something special?
    I think so. He sighed softly and sat down. There's something I haven't wanted to bother you with, but I think that maybe it's time.
    Oh, Christ. Now what? Who was quitting, what had been cancelled, and what wasn't going to arrive? That goddamn soap again? She'd already heard enough, and every time they had to discuss it, it reminded her again of the day when ' when Amadeo ' that last morning' . She averted her eyes.
    Don't look like that. It's nothing unpleasant. In fact he tried to convince her by smiling it could be very nice.
    I'm not sure I could stand the shock of something very nice.' She sat back in her chair, fighting exhaustion and a pain in the small of her back. Nerves, strain, it had been there since' . All right, out with it. Tell me.
    +ecco, signora. And suddenly he regretted not taking her to lunch. Maybe that would have been better, a few hours away, a good bottle of wine. But who could get her to go anywhere anymore? And moving three feet out of the building meant taking with them her army of guards. No, it was better here. We've had a call from the States.
    Someone has ordered ten thousand pieces, we're dressing the First Lady, and I just won an internationally coveted award. Right?
    Well' For a moment they both smiled. Thank God, she was mellower than she had been earlier that morning. He wasn't sure why, maybe because she needed him so much, or maybe she was just suddenly too tired to fight. It wasn't quite that kind of call. It was a call from Farnham-Barnes.
    The omnivorous department store monster? What the hell do they want now? In the past ten years F-B, as it was called, had been carefully devouring every major top-notch department store in the States. It was now a powerful entity to be reckoned with, and an account coveted by everyone in the trade. Were they happy or not with their last order? No, never mind. I know the answer to that, they want more. Well, tell them they can't have more. You already know that. Because of the number of stores in their chain, Isabella was careful to keep the reins well in hand. They could only have so much of her ready-to-wear line and a minuscule quantity of the designer line. She didn't want women in Des Moines, Boston, and Miami all wearing hundreds of the same dress. Even in ready-to-wear Isabella was careful and kept an iron control. Is that it? She glared at Bernardo, already bridling, and he felt his upper lip grow stiff.
    Not exactly. They had something else on their minds. The parent company, something called IHI, International Holdings and Industries, which happens to own Farrington Mills, Inter Am Airlines, and Harcourt Foods, has been making discreet inquiries of us since Amadeo's ' for the past two months.
    What kind of inquiries? Her eyes were black slate. Cold and hard and flat.
    But there was no point beating around the bush any longer. They want to know if you'd be interested in selling out.
    Are they crazy?
    Not at all. For them it would be a brilliant addition to what they've done with F-B. They've acquired almost every major department store worth having in the states, yet they've maintained each one's identity. It's a chain without being a chain. Each