Free The Best Way to Lose by Janet Dailey Page A

Equipment’s getting older and prices are getting higher.”
    “There have been too many cheap loads to undesirable ports,” Trace acknowledged—undesirable from the standpoint of getting good loads to haul out. “And too much money has been spent on repair and maintenance of equipment that’s too old to warrant it.”
    “Hell, anybody on the river knows that,” the cook declared. “But I wouldn’t want to take bets on how long it’s been since anyone at the main office has been out on these waters. These boats and barges are just numbers on paper to them—and the ports are just places on a map. You let me run this company for a month, and you’d see plenty of changes.”
    “That’s what we all say.” Trace’s mouth quirked as he drank down his coffee.
    “Yeah, I guess so.” Evers smiled, too, at his own braggadocio. “It’s just talk, and it never amounts to nothing. That’s why I’m sittin’ here on this vibratin’ machine and they’re sittin’ in some plush office and smokin’ five-dollar cigars. They don’t make presidents out of river bums.”
    “Right,” Trace agreed absently as he scooped up his mail and fingered the envelope with the notice of the stockholders’ meeting.
    A chair was pulled out for her at the conference table. Pilar smiled briefly at the attorneybefore smoothing the back of her navy linen skirt to sit down.
    “Thank you, Mr. Forrestown,” she murmured.
    “I believe you know everyone here,” he said.
    “Yes, I do.” Pilar glanced at the half-dozen men slowly resuming their places at the table now that she was seated.
    “I hope you don’t object to my inclusion of Mr. Cunningham,” the attorney offered respectfully. “I know he isn’t a shareholder in the company, but since he’s been acting as an interim president, I felt he should be present for this meeting.”
    “Of course,” she agreed and nodded to the squat, balding man sitting across the table from her. “I’m glad you could join us.”
    Payne Forrestown remained standing. “Since all the directors are present, and the shareholders are represented, either by proxy or their presence, perhaps we should get down to the business of electing officers and appointing a new member to the board.” There was a nodding assent around the table. He smiled down at Pilar, slightly patronizing. “We won’t be formal about this. Whenever you wish to speak or ask a question, feel free to do so.”
    “Thank you.”
    None of them were entirely comfortable with her in the room, and Pilar could feel their restiveness. Many of them clung to the oldtradition that kept women and business separate.
    “Perhaps we should begin by nominating—” He was interrupted by a knock on the door to the conference room. “Come in,” he called out impatiently.
    When Trace Santee walked in, Pilar sensed the ripple of surprise that passed through the room. Unlike the other men, dressed in dark business suits and ties, he was wearing a tan windbreaker over a white shirt, opened at the throat.
    “Trace, I—” The attorney stopped and glanced down at the papers on the table in front of him. “I didn’t realize you were going to attend. I believe I have your proxy right here.”
    “I believe you’re mistaken, Payne.” A smooth smile spread across his rugged features, which carried none of the bruises that had marred it the last time Pilar had seen him. “I didn’t mail one in.”
    “I see.” But it was obvious that the attorney didn’t
see
anything. Trace’s appearance had thrown everyone in the room off stride. “You’ll have to forgive me. I must have presumed you wouldn’t come, since you never have attended any of our previous meetings.”
    It seemed everyone in the room drew an audible breath when Trace pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat down. “I haven’t,” he agreed smoothly. His gray eyes made a slow survey of the men seated at thetable and lingered an instant on Pilar. “But I’ve