plan.
And that was what disturbed Nancy: it was all in accordance with Pa’s plan. The knowledge that everything she did had been foreordained by someone else spoiled the taste of victory. Her whole life now seemed like a school assignment set by her father: she had got an A, but at forty she was too old to be in school. She had an angry wish to set her own goals and live her own life.
In fact, she had been in just the right mood to have an open-minded discussion with Mervyn about their future together. But he had offended her by assuming that she would drop everything and follow him half across the world; and instead of talking him around she had bawled him out.
She had not expected him to go down on his knees and propose, of course, but ...
She felt in her heart that he really should have proposed. She was not a bohemian, after all; she was an American woman from a Catholic family, and if a man wanted a commitment from her, there was only one kind of commitment he was entitled to ask for, and that was her hand in marriage. If he could not do that, he should not ask for anything.
She sighed. It was all very well to be indignant, but she had driven him away. Perhaps the rift would not be permanent. She hoped so with all her heart. Now that she was in danger of losing Mervyn, she realized how much she wanted him.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of another man she had once driven away: Nat Ridgeway.
He stood in front of her, took off his hat politely and said: “It seems you’ve defeated me—again.”
She studied him for a moment. He could never have started a company and built it up the way Pa had built Black’s Boots: he did not have either the vision or the drive. But he was very good at running a big organization: he was clever, hard-working and tough. “If it’s any consolation, Nat,” said Nancy, “I know I made a mistake five years ago.”
“A business mistake, or a personal one?” he said, and there was an edge to his voice that betrayed underlying resentment.
“Business,” she said lightly. His departure had ended a romance that had hardly begun: she did not want to talk about that. “Congratulations on your marriage,” she said. “I saw a picture of your wife—she’s very beautiful.” It was not true: she was attractive at best.
“Thank you,” he said. “But to revert to business, I’m rather surprised that you’ve resorted to blackmail to get what you want.”
“This is a takeover, not a tea party. You said that to me yesterday.”
“Touche.” He hesitated. “May I sit down?”
Suddenly she was impatient with formality. “Hell, yes,” she said. “We worked together for years, and for a few weeks we dated, too; you don’t have to ask my permission to sit down, Nat.”
He smiled. “Thanks.” He took Mervyn’s deck chair and moved it around so that he could look at her. “I tried to take over Black’s without your help. That was dumb, and I failed. I should have known better.”
“No argument here.” That sounded hostile, she realized. “And no hard feelings, either.”
“I’m glad you said that—because I still want to buy your company.”
Nancy was taken aback. She had been in danger of underestimating him. Don’t let your guard down! she told herself. “What did you have in mind?”
“I’m going to try again,” he said. “Of course, I’ll have to make a better offer next time. But more important, I want you on my side—before and after the merger. I want to come to terms with you, and then I want you to become a director of General Textiles and sign a five-year contract.”
She had not expected this, and she did not know how she felt about it. To gain time she asked a question. “A contract? To do what?”
“To run Black’s Boots as a division of General Textiles.”
“I’d lose my independence—I’d be an employee.”
“Depending on how we structure the deal, you might be a shareholder. And while you’re making money, you’ll have all the independence you want—I don’t interfere with profitable divisions. But if you lose money, then yes, you’ll forfeit your independence. I fire failures.” He shook his head. “But you won’t fail.”
Nancy’s instinct was to turn him down. No matter how he sugared the pill, he still wanted to take the company away from her. But she realized that instant refusal was what Pa would have wanted, and she had resolved to stop living her life by her father’s program. However, she had to say something, so she prevaricated. “I might be interested.”
“That’s all I want to know,” he said, standing up. “Think about it and figure out-what kind of deal would make you comfortable. I’m not offering you a blank check, but I want you to understand that I’ll go a long way to make you happy.” Nancy was faintly bemused: his technique was persuasive. He had learned a lot about negotiating in the last few years. He looked past her, toward the land. “I think your brother wants to talk to you.”
She looked over her shoulder and saw Peter coming. Nat put on his hat and walked away. This looked like a pincer movement. Nancy stared resentfully at Peter. He had deceived her and betrayed her, and she could hardly bring herself to speak to him. She would have liked to mull over Nat Ridgeway’s surprising offer, and think about how it fitted in with her new feelings about her life; but Peter did not give her time. He stood in front of her, put his head on one side in a way that reminded her of his boyhood, and said: “Can we talk?”
“I doubt it,” she snapped.
“I want to apologize.”
“You’re sorry for your treachery, now that it’s failed.”
“I’d like to make peace.”
Everyone wants to do a deal with me today, she thought sourly. “How could you possibly make up for what you’ve done to me?”
“I can’t,” he said immediately. “Never.” He sat down in the chair vacated by Nat. “When I read your report, I felt such a fool. You were saying I couldn’t run the business, I’m not the man my father was, my sister could do it better than me, and I felt so ashamed because in my heart I knew it was true.”
Well, she thought, that’s progress.
“It made me mad, Nan—that’s the truth.” As children they had called each other Nan and Petey, and his use of the childhood name brought a lump to her throat. “I don’t think I knew what I was doing.”
She shook her head. That was a typical Peter excuse. “You knew what you were doing.” But she was sad now, rather than angry.
A group of people stopped near the door to the airline building, chatting. Peter looked irritably at them and said to Nancy: “Come and walk along the shore with me?”
She sighed. He was, after all, her little brother. She got up.
He gave her a radiant smile.
They walked to the landward end of the pier then stepped across the railroad track and descended to the beach. Nancy took off her high-heeled shoes and walked along the sand in her stockings. The breeze tossed Peter’s fair hair, and she saw, with a little shock, that it was receding from his temples. She wondered why she had not noticed that before, and realized that he combed his hair carefully to conceal it. That made her feel old.
There was nobody nearby now, but Peter said no more for a while, and eventually Nancy spoke. “Danny Riley told me a weird thing. He said Pa deliberately set things up so you and I would fight.”
Peter frowned. “Why would he do that?”
“To make us tougher.”
Peter laughed harshly. “Do you believe it?”
“Yes.”
“I guess I do, too.”
“I’ve decided I’m not going to live the rest of my life under Pa’s spell.”
He nodded, then said: “But what does that mean?”
“I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll accept Nat’s offer, and merge our company into his.”
“It’s not ‘our’ company anymore, Nan. It’s yours.”
She studied him. Was this genuine? She felt mean, being so suspicious. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
He looked sincere as he went on. “I’ve realized I’m not cut out for business, and I’m going to leave it to people like you who are good at it.”
