Page 4 of Mother Clucker

Now that Pops had taken a step back after the stroke I was determined to get Strickland back on top of the pet food distribution chain where it belonged.

“So, let’s sit.” She swept a hand toward the chairs in front of her desk.

“Don’t mind if I do.” I sat in one and, surprisingly, she didn’t sit behind the desk as I’d expected. Instead, she took the other chair facing mine.

Interesting move.

She wanted the donation I was here to offer. It made sense not to put any kind of barrier between her and the donor. She was a smart one, all right.

I’d remember to never underestimate her.

Many a man had underestimated my father, and me after him. Those companies were now part of Strickland. And those men learned a valuable lesson.

But what good was land, corporations, or capital, if our reputation was in the shitter? And after what had happened, ours most certainly was.

“Let me cut right to the chase,” I began.

“Please do. That’s how I like it.” Anna smiled.

This woman gave as good as she got. No bull shit. I liked that in a person.

I liked it even better when it was wrapped in a soft pretty package, but that was proving hard for me to find. Especially back in Texas with the name Strickland painted on my truck. There was always the suspicion that women liked what came with the name more than they liked me.

“I’m hoping we can help each other out,” I began. “You see I’ve got money my accountants say I need to give away. And you’ve got some shelters I’m thinking can use some money.”

“I do indeed know of plenty of worthy organizations, both locally and country wide, that are in desperate need of funds for operating costs and improvements. And I’m sure you’ll agree that having your generous donation spread out will also spread the good will around.” She smiled.

Damn. This woman was sharp. She’d seen right to the heart of my plan. Not that I’d really been trying to hide it all that hard.

I let my chin drop to my chest. I brought my gaze up to meet hers. “You caught me. My motivation is more complex than simple generosity and an extreme love of animals—which, actually, I really do have. In fact, most days I like critters more than people.”

She laughed. “I believe you. But honestly, I wouldn’t care if your only motivation were cleaning up your corporate image after it was dragged through the mud. That money will provide food and shelter to thousands of animals in need. And that’s good enough for me.”

“Thank you. I do appreciate that.”

Dragged through the mud indeed. Here I was, hat in hand, thanking the woman for accepting my million-dollar donation.

My having to kiss ass to save the company would end. Eventually. Until then . . . pucker up, butter cup.

I stood. So did she and we shook hands on the deal.

“I’ll have the accounting department cut a check for the million. Make it out to you?” I asked.

“The Greater Hermosa Beach Area Animal Shelter Charitable Foundation, actually. But I administer the fund and I’ll make sure the donations get distributed where you want them to go.”

“The Greater Hermosa Beach. . .” I lifted a brow and felt in my pocket for a scrap of paper as I glanced around in search of a pen. “That’s a mouthful.”

“I’ll email you the name and address. And our routing and account numbers.” She grinned. “You know, in case someone in the accounting department was born in this century and would like to wire the total amount rather than mail a paper check.”

I let out a laugh. “You calling me old school?”

“Maybe.” Her lips twitched.

I nodded my acceptance. I really couldn’t argue the point. Even though I was only thirty-two, I’d rather be on a horse than in a plane any day. And if I could live life without a fucking cell phone, I would. Happily.

I paused before heading out the door. “I’d be happy to donate a truck load of dog and cat food too. If you think that would help. I understand if you don’t?—”

“Thank you. I accept. That would help enormously.”

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