The three tales

Senior Vice President, Lana Holt stomped angrily past the cubicles of her nosy employees, ignoring their probing stares and low snickers. They could barely contain their joy. The Ice Bitch was finally gone. They thought she didn't know what they whispered behind her back, but she

did. She knew everything the close to one hundred employees she

supervised said about her. They thought she was a sad, lonely, pathetic

frigid bitch. And maybe they were right.

She'd worked for the Renault International Hotel Corporation ever

since she'd graduated from college. And over the past twenty years,

she'd steadily climbed the corporate ladder, sacrificing everything to

achieve one goal-to become CEO of the largest hotel chain in the world. She had always remained professional and distant from her employees, running her division with cool efficiency and precision. The marketing

division was undoubtedly the most productive arm of the company. So when Tom Salkind retired earlier that year as CEO, she'd been sure the

job was hers.

She wrenched open the door to her corner office with the amazing view of downtown Atlanta, stepped inside and slammed it behind her. She wasted no time in grabbing a Xerox box full of new stacks of paper. Dumping the unopened packets to the floor, she began to clean out her

desk.

As she haphazardly stuffed her most personal belongings into the

box, she replayed the words that had changed her life forever.

" ...So, it is with great pride and enthusiasm that I introduce to you

Renault's newest CEO, my grandson, Matthew Renault." She had sat

there stunned when the owner, Gerard Renault, had delivered the news to

the twelve member Board of Directors, the new CEO, Matthew Renault,

and to her.

She gritted her teeth at the thought of him. She was being usurped

by a twenty-nine year old Harvard Business graduate who'donly been

with the company for two years. He was barely out of grad school and

now he was the CEO of a Fortune 500 Company.

The sound of her office door closing caught her attention and she

whirled around to face the last person she wanted to see.

"Lana, I'm sorry. I didn't know -"

She held up her hand to halthis next words. "It's fine Matthew. I could tell from your shocked expression that it was news to you too. Still,

congratulations," she said stiffly, before twisting back around to finish

packing.

"I couldn't believe you stormed out of there-hey, what are you

doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she snapped as she continued to

dump her things into the box.

She froze at the touch of his hand against her arm. Blowing out a long, jagged breath she turned around to face him. And as soon as she

met his gaze, and glimpsed the hurt look on his handsome face, she

instantly regretted her terse words. It wasn't his fault. Actually Matthew didn't deserve any of her anger. Ever since he'd joined the company two

years ago as the CFO, he'd been nothing but kind toward her, even

though she'd always kept him at arm's length.

"Don't quit," he said softly.

She shrugged his hand from her arm, flashing him a weak smile. "I

have to."

"But, I need you-," he said, and she almost swore she saw

something flash in his eyes that hinted at a more intimate need, but then it disappeared and she figured it had just been her imagination. He cleared his throat. "-to advise me. You have the most experience of any of the

senior staff and I need your expertise."

"I'm sorry, Matthew, but you know I can't stay," she said quietly,

holding his penetrating blue gaze.

"What will you do?"

She shrugged as a she curled her lips into a wry smile. "I don't

know and for the first time in my life, I don't care." It was true. She had

lived her life for so long always striving to accomplish her next goal.

Well, for the first time ever she had no goal and it felt good.

The disappointment on his face tugged at her, and for just a moment she experienced a pang of guilt. Feeling compelled to do something she

was sure she would later regret, she grabbed one of her business cards

and scribbled on the back. "Here is my home number. If you find you have a question just call me." She shoved her card into his hand and

whirled back around to finish with her task.

She heard him mumble "thanks" followed by the soft click of the

door closing shut. Contrary to what her employees thought, she did have feelings and she felt bad for dumping her anger on Matthew when he'd

had nothing to do with the events that had transpired earlier. But she

couldn'thelp feeling a twinge of resentment. He now held the position that she'd coveted for the last five years. Still, that had been no excuse for

her abrupt dismissal and downright rude behavior. She toyed with the

thought of going after him to apologize, but quickly abandoned the idea.

He'dbe fine. She on the other hand wouldn't.

The knowledge that she'd given up so much for a dream that had

been snatched so cruelly from her was enough to send her spiraling head first to depression. Painful memories from the past twenty years of all the

sacrifices she'd made replayed themselves in her head. The main one

being from three years ago when her ex-fiancé walked out on her shortly after she'd miscarried their baby, all the while hurling accusations at her

that her workaholic schedule had been the cause. She knew now that

Toby was nothing but an asshole and a jerk, but at the time the pain and

guilt had only driven her to work harder, making her even more

determined to achieve the goal that had cost her the family she'd always

wanted.

Tears burned the backs of her eyes and she drew in a deep breath, as she forced them not to fall. She needed to hurry up and finish packing so

that she could get out of there before she did what she so desperately

longed to do-slump to the floor and indulge in a good cry. But her pride

would not allow her to give into the impulse. The Ice Bitch did not crack,

and she certainly didn't melt.

*****

Matthew Renault flopped down in the plush leather cushions of his

office chair and blew out a long breath.

How could his grandfather do this to Lana-to him even? He ran

an angry hand through his close cropped, jet black hair, disheveling it into

wild spikes. When Tom retired, his grandfather assured him that Lana

would be promoted to CEO. So it had been a shock to him when his name

had been announced instead.

Right after Lana stormed out, he'd pulled Gerard Renault aside for

an explanation.

"What was that about? You told me Ms. Holt was going to be

promoted," he'd accused.

His grandfather had shrugged his stocky shoulders and the lines of

his face had deepened when he'd spoken. He at least he had the decency

to appear remorseful. "I wanted to promote her, but the Board refused to support her bid for CEO. They were really uncomfortable with having someone from outside the family in the position again. I had no choice

but to appoint you. I'm sorry Matthew."

"It's not me you should be apologizing to," he'dwhispered angrily

before spinning on his heels to follow Lana.

He leaned back in his chair and stared out across Midtown Atlanta,

his eyes vacant. Lana didn't deserve this. She had devoted herself to

Renault Corp, and this was her thanks? If he'd been her he would have

quit too.

He glanced down at the card in his hand, twisting it between his

fingers. She'd given it to him and told him to call her if he had any

questions. A small grin flashed across his face. He had a question -

would she have dinner with him Friday night? That had been the main

question he'd wanted to ask her since he'd first laid eyes on the

voluptuous older woman two years ago.

He remembered their first meeting like it was yesterday. She'd been wearing a form fitting white turtle neck Cashmere dress that hugged her gorgeous figure down to her knees, where it teased the tops of her spike

heeled leather black boots. The soft white hue of the dress had

complimented the warm tones of her rich, chocolate complexion. Her shoulder length hair had been pulled back into a severe bun and she'd worn standard wire rimmed glasses that obscured her beautiful almond

shaped brown eyes.

She'd shaken his hand with a cool authority and he'dbeen smitten ever since. No matter how hard he tried to invite her to lunch or engage her in small talk, she had always remained polite, but aloof-the epitome

of professionalism. Everyone called her the Ice Bitch if they were nice,

worse if they weren't. But he sensed beneath her chilly exterior was a

warm and sensual woman who she worked hard to hide, and it was

that woman he wanted to discover. He wanted to get to know the real

Lana Holt, not the one she showed to the rest of the world.

He stared at the ten digits she'd hastily scrawled on the back of the card. What would she do if he called her and asked her out? Or better yet

showed up on her doorstep with an invitation to dinner? He knew the

answer to both of those questions. She would give him a cool, but polite, no.

If he wanted to get to know Lana more intimately then he was going

to have to come up with something far better than a phone call or a visit.

A thought popped into his head and he sat up, ramrod straight, in his chair. It was a long shot, a crazy idea even. He curled his lips up into

a smile and glanced back down at the card. Crazy idea or not, he was

fresh out of options. He shot up from his chair and bounded out of his office just in time to see the doors to the elevator close with Lana inside.

His smile grew wider. Perfect timing.