Conflict of Interest

By Patricia Holden

Margot Dolan was desperately trying to keep her busy life together when Damian Pernoud walked through the door of the women's shelter where she worked. He was there to determine what would be needed for a massive renovation of the facility along with what the women who ran the non-profit wanted from his family in terms of a donation. One look at Margot, and Damian's head turned. There was only one problem: Margot's father was the state senator responsible for awarding state road construction contracts, and before Damian and Margot even get a chance to really get to know each other, a conflict of interest threatens to come between them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patricia Holden
• Release date: Oct 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370960651

Patricia Holden

A resident of Flyover Country in the Unites States, Patricia Holden, the pen name of a good Catholic girl from the Midwest, is committed to Christianity and traditional social roles, as well as high arts and culture. Watching politics, observing human behavior and writing are some of her long-time interests. The author known as Patricia Holden is a classically trained soprano and proud citizen of Cardinal Nation, although, during hockey season, Bleeds Blue. She lives with family and a cute and charming tyrant...make that a toy dog. She also crochets.Please, visit this writer's Facebook author page @PatriciaHoldenAuthor for reader fellowship and frequent conversations about upcoming books including voting on cover art, and snippets of upcoming offerings.

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Conflict of Interest

by Patricia Holden

Published by Susan Sampson at SmashWords

Copyright 2016 Susan Sampson

Cover Photo by Allistair Williamson

Other Titles from Patricia Holden on Smashwords:

Turn My Head

Break Through

Third Time’s the Charm

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Sometimes a woman’s greatest strength is not her ability to lead an army, but by example, and what she is willing to give rather than take in receiving.

Chapter 1

Margot Dolan opened the front door of the Dominica House for Women and Girls, and walked into the cool relief from the late August heat and humidity in St. Louis. It was only eight thirty in the morning, and already the heat index was ninety-one. The humidity being so high combined with a temperature over eighty made for a miserably hot day. And it was only just beginning.

Margot let her eyes adjust to the dim interior of the 1920’s dormer house that had been turned into a shelter for women and children escaping the violence of domestic abuse. She looked at the receptionist, one of her only true friends in the building, and smiled.

Good morning, Felicia, she said brightly.

Mornin’ Miss Margot, Felicia’s latest weave nodded with her head, her café ole complexion glowing above a red sparkly top. She must have spent three hours in the hair dresser’s chair last night if Margot knew her. And how are we doin’ this blessed morning?

Well, thank you, Margot walked past the reception desk, and swiped her identification card against the clock-in station. How are the grand-babies?

Gettin’ into all sorts of trouble, Felicia huffed as she answered the phone. Dominica House.

Margot smiled to herself a little when she put her ID card against the lock of the steel doors that led into the administrative office suite, and tried not to sigh. Three of the big bosses’ cars were parked out front. The leading trio of the coven was in the house. The only one missing was the serious wackadoodle whose main mission in life was to make everyone else’s a living hell.

She really didn’t want to think about what they had in store for her today.

Heading for her desk which was tucked right outside the Vice President for Operations’ office, Margot heard jubilation coming from inside it.

The coven convened early today.

I can’t believe it, came from Jeanne, the Director of Development, the yes girl who had a thing for slacks that made her ample butt look big. Margot risked a glance inside the office to the table where the coven made their plans, and saw that today was no exception when it came to Jeanne’s wardrobe of the day. The yes girl was even wearing one of those awful stripped camp shirts that buttoned down the front hiding what little assets she had. She wore zero make-up, and her not quite shoulder length hair was stringy and drab as usual.

I know, right, exclaimed the V.P. for Operations, the wife of a local businessman named Artie. The one with the spiky modern hair, and the dangly earrings. She, actually, could afford to not work, but couldn’t leave that part of life behind when she married well. An actual Pernoud brother is coming here.

Margot put her purse in a drawer, and plopped her insulated lunch bag on top of it. Did Gayle say which one? she heard the Vice President ask.

Margot sat down, and turned on her computer monitor only to hear the more sedate and measured tones of the executive director say, No, but I think we can assume it will be Adam. I cannot imagine he would not look into a building project personally. Margot couldn’t see the woman, but she assumed that Kim Schulte, aka The Sea Witch, would be dressed in her usual style – badly put together executive drab with just a dash of flair, not one of her short locks out of place, and the sport length acrylic nails in a French manicure folded just so on the table.

I don’t know, Kim, the VP said, he’s supposed to be really busy. At least that’s what Artie says.

Does Artie do business with him? Kim, the executive director asked.

No, but you know Adam Pernoud is on City Watch, and a member of the chamber of commerce- City Watch was the local establishment business executive group that liked to be seen doing good deeds in the community.

I don’t know anything other than he is a potential major donor with deep pockets, Kim interrupted with determined intensity. Has Jessie come in yet?

The wackadoodle show up before ten in the morning, Margot thought. Fat chance.

Margot heard the hesitation before Jeanne said, Not just yet.

Kim pounced on that information since she and the wackadoodle did not see eye to eye on anything related to the non-profit, or any event work. Is she running late?

I’ll call her, Jeanne said.

Margot heard Jeanne get up, and leave the room. The rustling of her thighs rubbing against each other was unmistakable. Oh, hi, Margot, Jeanne said from behind her.

Margot turned her head. Hi, Jeanne. Jeanne’s pale skin emphasized the circles under her eyes. Again. It was like the woman never slept, and that she was anemic.

Have you seen Jessie? Jeanne asked.

Uh, no, not yet, Margot said. The less she saw of Jessie the better. Darn wackadoodle.

Jeanne sighed, and said, Alright, I’ll be in my office. Send her back if you see her.

Sure, Margot said to Jeanne’s wide-body posterior as she walked toward the back of the office.

Oh, good, Margot, you’re here, Kim had walked out of the vice president’s office, and, as usual, was giving her best Ursula the Sea Witch impression, short frosted blonde coif standing on end, and all. Kim would probably never be caught dead in a strapless black dress, or pearls for that matter, though. She dressed in layers that never seemed to match. Today, the casual striped jacket with the big brooch, gold choker chain, and the hoop earrings along with jacquard slides…. Margot’s mother would have a field day deconstructing that. At least she wasn’t wearing the black fishnet knee highs with a black watch suit again.

Kim’s clothes rustled as her thighs rubbed while she walked. She was waddling today, actually, thanks to a girth that seemed to grow every other month. We have a major donor guest coming in tomorrow morning. One of the Pernoud brothers, of Pernoud Engineering. We will need to be prepared.

Okay, Margot said, grabbing her legal pad to write a note. She knew what that meant. Put together a dossier, and distribute it to the coven.

Not that any of them would read it.

Their assistant did not say which one it would be.

Margot took a deep breath. So, you need information on each of the seven? she asked.

There are not seven Pernoud brothers, Kim said with disdain, and definite censure in her tone. I’m quite certain there are only five. Margot looked up to see Kim’s nostrils flair.

Margot didn’t argue with her. At this point, it would be useless. She needed to put the dossier together first. Okay, I will have the information to you before I leave today.

Copy Jeanne, Jessie, and Karena as well, Kim said over her shoulder as she turned and, oh, no. It really was now official, Margot thought watching her move. Kim had definitely graduated to waddle.

Margot sighed, and turned back to her computer monitor. She hadn’t even been in the office five minutes, and Kim had corrected her already. About men her father, brothers, and best friend forever had known for decades given that the Pernoud brothers and her brothers all played hockey together in high school, and that their parents were members of the same Bridge group as hers years ago.

Margot knew darn well and good there were seven of them.

Great, she thought. It was going to be a banner day.

Oh, come on Adam, you’ve got to be kidding. Me? You’re sending me? Damian Pernoud put his hands on his hips, and looked down at his big brother who was seated behind his mahogany desk in the office. Tall, lean, dark, and amazingly confident, not that it was hard given the business empire, and huge family he controlled, Damian’s brother Adam normally was half a head taller. He also looked a lot like Damian, although, not quite exact replicas. Not like their brother Ben, the second of the seven brothers. Adam’s face was longer than Damian’s, and he didn’t carry the solid stockiness that Damian did. They had the same amazingly wide shoulders, though.

Given the circumstances, and seeing how Damian really didn’t want to do the task he had just been assigned, the shorter man pressed the height advantage since Adam was sitting while issuing orders with his tie loosened, and his sleeves rolled up.

Yes, I’m sending you, Adam scrubbed a hand over his face allowing the light from the wrap around windows behind him to glint off his wedding ring, and his watch. Ben’s in Cape, Christian is taking Sarah Jane to her doctor’s appointment in the morning, Ed’s not quite done with that last survey, and Mae’s ultrasound is tomorrow. Adam gave Damian the I’m the boss look. If you think I’m missing that you are out of your mind.

Yeah, but me? Damian gestured to himself. I’m the one who sends six figure cashier checks to the charities, and museums so I don’t have to listen to development pitches. He’d rather swim naked in the Amazon than listen to development pitches.

Damian, if I had a choice, I’d send someone else or go myself, but I don’t, alright. Damian threw his head back, and winced. Almost on purpose. You’re available. Therefore you’re going.

Damian heaved a gigantic sigh. And this is why I have three engineering degrees. So I can go to a women’s shelter, and listen to a fundraising pitch.

Actually, since what I am interested in doing for them is providing the engineering, and possibly doing their expansion and upgrades as a contribution, you can use those sharp eyes of yours to get a good look at the building, and start to figure out what that entails. Charitable proposals always fudge reality, and given the age of the facility, there’s bound to be a lot they left out. He fished under all the paper on his desk, and came up with a manila envelope. The proposal is in here. He handed it to Damian. Turn on the charm, like you know you can, and find out what else they want.

Damian grunted, and turned to walk out of Adam’s office to put some distance between him, and his big brother who was constantly trying to get him to do more on the charity front than go to the bank once a year, and have about twenty cashiers checks made out to the worthwhile non-profits he knew would spend the money wisely. And Damian, he turned back to see his big brother prop his elbows on the desk. Ben will be back in time for our lunch meeting tomorrow, so don’t even think about missing it.

Damian felt the pain cross his face as he opened the door, and walked out of Adam’s office. If there was anything Damian hated more than the brothers’ monthly philanthropy meeting, he didn’t know what it was. Not that he really minded giving money away, but sitting around and trying to determine just exactly which non-profits were worth funding and which ones were just after a bit of cash took some doing. None of the brothers really had the time to do the research necessary to figure that out. No, they were too busy working to make the money that it was expected they give away to charity every year. And now that his three older brothers’ heads were turned, and they were all married and expecting, they had even less time to devote to it.

Damian wasn’t stupid about charitable giving, no matter what it did to his insides to have to suffer through elevator pitches from professional do-gooders. Many programs were worth funding. But, program pitches were rarely made on a site visit. No, those were ego stroking affairs meant to reel in big whales with money to burn. Yeah, he thought, it may come with the territory of being filthy rich, and being part of a family known for taking their civic responsibilities seriously, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

No, what he liked was being left alone after all the work was done in a day, to tend to his mother’s rose garden, and decompress swinging a golf club. Golf started out as a way to relax on the weekends, and before too long the old competitive instincts Damian thought he left on the hockey rink after college started to kick in. Not too long after that, when he started spending time with Adam negotiating business deals, Adam decided that Damian could handle the opening back and forth with potential clients, and somehow – Damian still wasn’t sure when or how – he became the family proposal guy. Adam always closed the deals, but as far as actual engineering went, Damian felt it took a back seat to keeping the business going. Of course, he was still a finalist in the national civic engineering awards for the last seven years running. His last win was for a big bridge they built in Cincinnati last year, but he was doing far less engineering than he thought ever would after getting his Ph.D. a few years back.

He shut his own office door a little too loudly. Just like everything else that happened in this family, Adam somehow managed to get what he wanted out of one of the brothers. Well, other than Christian who was running a retro-fitting operation within the business. That was not Adam’s idea. And then there was Francis who spent all day in his computer lab. Gabriel went to medical school instead of engineering….

Okay, maybe Damian gave in because at least working with his brothers he knew what he was getting into. That was more than he could say for walking into a local non-profit to be shaken down for cash.

Chapter 2

Damian’s heart still hurt when he pulled into the parking lot of the Dominica House the next morning. It wasn’t simply Adam being Adam, and sending him to negotiate something noble and good that Damian knew Adam knew Damian avoided like public driving ranges really only because of the sorts of people running the non-profits. No, at the moment, it was the reality that he and his brothers were going to have to do some serious work on the building in front of him just to bring the darn thing up to code. Without more than a passing glance, Damian knew that. He found a spot for his steel blue BMW along the line in front of the building, and surveyed the cars there.

Two mid-range convertibles, one red, one...sun bright yellow? Who the hell thought that was a good idea? And on a German car no less. There was a silver sedan produced by a Japanese maker, two actually, a late model half-asked SUV by yet another Japanese maker, an Escape, a number of little economy models...what, no hybrids or SMART cars? Weren’t these people in non-profit? Didn’t they do the save the earth thing?

Damian took in a deep breath, and let it out. He had to calm down. It wasn’t the people who worked at this place’s fault he was here. They were just doing a noble job that needed to be done. No, it was Adam’s. Adam and Ben and Christian and Ed, who all had better things to do this morning. Okay, well, two of them were taking their pregnant wives to the doctor, and Ben was out of town with his pregnant wife starting a new project, and Ed was finishing up all those overpass surveys so he could finish the bid to the state….

Damian took another deep breath. Yeah, he was the only one left. May as well get it over with.

He got out of the car carrying his work portfolio which contained the proposal for the project the Board of Directors at Dominica House wanted to have done. He had looked at it last night. There was a lot that was left out from what he could see, like everything from dimensions of the building to the original blueprints. He turned toward the building to give the exterior a once over before he went inside. Christian would have to be involved since he was the retrofitter, and this was a vintage building, but Damian figured he could handle an initial glance on the retro aspect if he had to. The five story brick building was in pretty good shape for its age. The tuck-pointing needed to be redone in spots, and he would recommend to Adam that they add that into the work to be done. The roof wasn’t pitched quite right for that slate on it. Maybe they could talk the Dominica people into something lighter that would better serve the angle of the building. The brickwork itself was done well, as all older buildings in St. Louis were. He hadn’t seen any blueprints yet, but he was willing to bet that there was a steel superstructure that would need to be checked for corrosion, and possibly reinforced depending on what was done in the last remodel the proposal described. Building a whole new dining facility and recreation center in at the rear of the property was another story. Rip down and rebuild. That would be a piece of cake.

With another sweeping glance taking in the cracks in the granite at the base of the building, and the stairs that were just beginning to crumble despite the brand new wheelchair ramp leading to the front doors - double paned glass and steel where a graceful wood should be - Damian walked to the entrance, and followed the instructions posted there to press the buzzer.

Good morning. Welcome to Dominica House, came a warm, calm, and cheerful voice through the intercom.

He felt the voice wrap around his spine, and invade his gut. Huh? Good morning, he returned. Wonder what the face on the other side of the intercom looked like, he thought. He shook himself, and said, I’m Damian Pernoud, and I have an appointment with Kim Schulte at ten,

Great. Please, come in, came from the inviting voice on the intercom.

The door in front of him buzzed, and Damian opened it to find himself before yet another door - this one solid steel with a wired rectangular pane of glass. It buzzed. He opened it, walked through the portal, glanced toward the reception desk, and froze.

And just like that, the earth moved under his feet.

The woman behind the desk rose to her full height, and smiled. His heart stopped. She was barely five feet tall, if he had to guess, with shoulder-length glossy dark curls, and mysterious eyes that looked almost black at this distance. Her pale, lightly pink skin screamed black Irish. The lush, wide, smiling lips were coated in a delicate pink gloss. He forced himself to look from her face, and unfortunately looked down where her black V-necked shirt barely covered a lifted and very voluptuous set of...he looked back up, into her eyes, and felt that punch to his solar plexus again.

Ahh, shit, he thought. NOW? My head turns NOW?

The