A Taste of Honey Read online

  A Taste of Honey

  Iris Leach

  Avon, Massachusetts

  This edition published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

  10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

  Blue Ash, Ohio 45242

  www.crimsonromance.com

  Copyright © 2012 by Iris Leach

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-6054-4

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-6054-5

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-6055-2

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-6055-2

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © istockphoto.com/EdgeofReason; 123rf.com

  Michael. Thanks for all your support and love. I know I drive you crazy at times.

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Notice in Rich River Gazette

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Chapter One

  Courtship is a lost art.

  “Are you okay, Charli? It’s a shock, but I didn’t know how else to tell you.”

  Judy Jenkins’ voice bit into the sad confusion of her mind. “When did it happen?”

  “Last night.”

  She clenched her bottom lip. This was so sad. Grief tore at Charli’s heart. “Poor Mr. Knight. How did he — did he suffer?”

  “His ticker gave out. He died in his sleep. He didn’t feel a thing, Charli. Just didn’t wake up, that’s all.” Judy came around her desk and gave her a warm hug. “Are you okay? You’re such a softie.”

  She nodded. A thick knot caught somewhere in Charli’s throat. She couldn’t swallow. She was going to cry. She just knew she was. It was the shock. One moment she was joking and talking to Mr. Knight and the next he was gone. It was such an unreal sensation.

  She looked over at his office door as if expecting him to poke around his head and say, “Any coffee, Charli?” Knowing full well she always had coffee percolating and iced buns in the stationery cupboard, a particular favorite of his.

  “Was he alone?”

  Judy gave a wry smile. “Only you’d ask that question, Charli. He was in bed and since I don’t think Mr. Knight had any love interest since his wife died, he was alone.”

  She pulled herself erect. “Judy, you know what I meant. Was he alone in the house?”

  “Yes, he was alone. His housekeeper found him this morning.”

  She’d been so fond of Mr. Knight, and now she’d never see him again. It was too awful to bear. “He said he didn’t feel well. He complained of pain in the chest. I told him to go home and rest, but he wouldn’t. He said he’d be all right.” She ran her fingertips lightly across her brow. “I should have insisted.”

  “Now don’t go and blame yourself. You couldn’t have known how ill he really was. Anyway he was bull-headed and always did exactly what he wanted.”

  Tears dripped down her face. “He was a very private person.” She groped into her desk drawer for a box of tissues. Plucking one, she blew her nose loudly. “He always had time to listen to my woes.”

  “He took a special interest in you; protective, like a dad would be, and he wouldn’t have a word said against you, no way.”

  Charli smiled at the memory. Mr. Knight was considerate toward her. His greatest desire was to see her married to a nice man who’d look after her. He believed in the sanctity of marriage. The blessed union of one man and one woman until death do us part.

  Get married, Charli, he’d said. It’s the only way to a contented life. And she’d smile and say she hadn’t met Mr. Right.

  She was old-fashioned in her outlook on romance. She wanted to be courted like her father had courted her mother. She’d loved hearing the tales her mother told her about how her father had taken her out to dinner, bringing her chocolate and flowers. They picnicked at the beach and danced to a blues jazz band at the local dancehall. He wooed her until she fell in love with him, and he’d finally proposed and she’d gladly accepted. So romantic.

  She didn’t expect a knight in shining armor on a white steed sort of thing, but a man who knew how to court a woman. How to make her feel special, assuring her that he’d do anything for her that was within his power.

  “His work was his life.” Her eyes flew to Judy’s. “His work? What will become of the business now?”

  “There’s a nephew, William Knight. I’ve heard he’s coming to take over the reins.”

  “Does he know anything about publishing?”

  “He runs a small publishing house in Darwin.”

  Surprised, she said, “I didn’t know anything about that. Mr. Knight didn’t mention he even had a nephew.”

  Judy was the office receptionist, and besides the fact that she’d been working here for years, what she didn’t know about everyone in the office wasn’t worth knowing. Mr. Knight always said that Judy had radar implanted in her brain. It focused in on all the office gossip. It wasn’t that Judy was malicious; to the contrary, she had a warm and giving heart. She was a natural born sticky-beak and loved to know everybody’s business.

  “Don’t suppose he wanted to talk about it. The family was in shock for years.”

  “Shock? What were they shocked about?”

  “Over what happened to his nephew.”

  Had William Knight taken a car on a joy ride in his youth? Or maybe tax evasion or failing to stop at a red light. “Something bad happened to his nephew?”

  “Too bloody right it did.”

  Her interest piqued. Charli leant forward and said, “Don’t leave out a thing, Judy. Tell me all.”

  “Young Mr. Knight fell in love with his chief editor. They married, and a few years later, she ran off with his star author, taking half of his most popular writers with her. She started up her own business here in Melbourne. Might have heard of it. Powerful Press.”

  “Yes, I have.” Charli loved gossip. What woman didn’t? “Tell me more.”

  “Nothing more to tell. Young Mr. Knight struggled to keep his business afloat, and through hard decision-making and sheer business brilliance managed to do so.”

  “This is so unbelievably juicy,” she said.

  “He should have sued the pants off her.”

  “Don’t be so pedantic, Judy. She was a witch with a capital B.” Charli placed a hand over her heart and said, “She broke his heart. Our Young Mr. Knight is sensitive and obviously very romantic.”

  Would William Knight be a younger version of his uncle, short, slightly overweight, balding? Well, perhaps not balding, but hair receding slightly at the temples and forehead; a friendly man with a boisterous laugh and generous disposition who would visit the office twice, three times a week, just to keep his finger in the pie.

  A beautiful vision came into her mind. “Miss Honey, I need to express myself with my art and wish
to lock myself in a turret and paint. So therefore I’m giving you a promotion and putting you in charge of running Knight Books. You are more than capable.”

  A surge of excitement. This was her big opportunity, she just knew it.

  “Ah, well, not my business.” Judy contradicted and Charli hid a smile. “Wanna do lunch?”

  “That’d be great.”

  “See you at one.”

  Charli walked to her office window; the day was wet and windy as only Melbourne could be in May. She gazed out on to the multistory buildings. Everything must be perfect for the new boss. She would impress him with her professionalism; her efficiency; and, if he chose to stay at the helm, become his reliable right-hand.

  In her mind’s eye she saw herself standing side-by-side with young Mr. Knight. They were staring off into the not-too-distant future. The wind was blowing through her hair, a look of grim determination on her face and his arm draped around her shoulders. No, no, too intimate. Shoulder to shoulder. Sort of like Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet in Titanic standing at the helm, or was it starboard? Their love much stronger than their fear of death. So romantic, she’d seen the movie four times.

  Sighing deeply, she returned to her desk and made notes on a pad. Leaning back in her chair, she tapped her lower teeth with the end of a pen. Number one, she had to sort through Mr. Knight’s papers, and he wasn’t the tidiest of men, bluntly refusing to let her organize his desk when her hands were itching to do so.

  There was a lot to do before his nephew arrived.

  Would he, as she hoped, pass the running of Knight Books on to her, or would he have completely different ideas from his uncle on how to run the company? Either way, she could cope. She was a professional and knew the ropes. He would have to read her work reports and know how proficient she was and how she was an asset to Knight Books.

  She threw the pen onto her desk. “Time will tell,” she said aloud. “Time will tell.”

  • • •

  William Knight sighed. He hadn’t quite come to terms with the loss of his uncle. Now it was only his mother and him. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d come to a decision. Leave Darwin in the capable hands of Stan McFee and take up the reins of Knight Books. He could think of no alternative.

  Going back to Melbourne struck his quivering nerves like a snapped guitar string. He pushed his thumbs into the pits of his eyes and cursed softly. Darwin not being big enough for the two of them, Mavis’s words not his, she’d scurried off to Melbourne with Brad Wilde, his top writer, clinging to her side. She’d betrayed him both personally and professionally.

  He’d fallen for Mavis’s dark beauty hook, line, and sinker. Taught her the ropes of running a publishing house, and, without warning, she’d started her own business and taken every worthwhile author she could with her. Charmed and armed, that was Mavis. Planned every move she’d ever made.

  There’d be no escaping running into her at some time or another in Melbourne. How would he handle that ugly situation? Smile and a handshake, or snarl and turn his back?

  Her stabbing him in the back didn’t happen immediately. It took years of clever planning, learning the ropes, ingratiating herself with everybody. Hell, even the cleaner loved Mavis and lit up like a Christmas tree every time she spoke to him. Come to think of it, he went with her too.

  If she never gave him anything else, she’d given him a deep mistrust of women in business. He’d never work hand-in-glove with a woman again. He didn’t trust their soft smiles. The enticing lure that lay deep in their baby blues like a dangling worm to an unsuspecting fish. He’d learned a hard lesson and he’d learned it well.

  He looked up as Stan McFee ambled into his office. He liked Stan very much and they’d become firm friends over the years. Often he had dinner with Stan and his wife, Lauren, a beautiful ex-model that men gave prolonged lustful looks. Will knew her as a woman whose life revolved around her family’s happiness. When they’d made Lauren, they had thrown away the mold. “All set to go, Will?”

  “Yeah. Ready but not quite willing. Think you can handle things here, Stan?”

  “You’ve asked me that question a hundred times.”

  “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay.” He flung his long frame into a chair, stretching out his legs in front of him. “So you know who you’ll be working with?”

  “Charles Honey. And by all accounts, he’s one capable chief editor.” He glanced at Honey’s work reports. “Funny thing, Stan. He’s only temporary in the position. My uncle never made him permanent chief editor. No worries. I’ll tidy that up quick smart.”

  “So all your worries were for nothing?”

  “It’s made me feel easier having a man working with me. I couldn’t take a woman, Stan. No way. I’d go nuts.”

  Stan laughed. “Your reputation laughs at your denial, Will. You’re a woman’s man from way back.”

  “I’m not talking about my private life. You know what I mean.”

  “Not every woman in business is like your ex.”

  “I have no qualms about women in business, what I don’t want is a woman working side by side with me. Now I won’t have to face that. Thank God for Charles Honey.”

  Will pushed himself back in his chair. It wouldn’t be so bad. Running Knight Books was the challenge he needed. He was getting soft here in Darwin. Back in the big time was called for. Charles Honey was a top man. Yeah, things were going to be okay.

  • • •

  Charli had hoped she’d meet young Mr. Knight at the funeral. As it turned out it was only a small service in the chapel with sandwiches and coffee later. She’d asked around but it had appeared that young Mr. Knight had left immediately after the service. She consoled herself she’d meet him soon enough.

  No sooner than she’d thought that, a fax arrived stating that William Knight would be arriving at the office early the next day.

  Charli had Malcolm Knight’s office thoroughly cleaned in preparation for William Knight’s arrival. She moved into his office and glanced around. Maybe she should get some flowers as a welcome from the staff. She buzzed the intercom. “Yes, Charli?”

  “Judy, order some long-stemmed yellow roses and irises to be delivered first thing in the morning — no, have them delivered now. You never know, our young Mr. Knight may get here sooner than he said.”

  “Sure thing, Charli.”

  “And, Judy.”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t stint on them. We want Mr. Knight to feel very welcome for his first day with us.”

  She studied the desk once more, everything in its place and a place for everything. She moved the telephone a fraction toward the edge of the desk, bringing his desk lamp a little further toward his chair.

  Hands on her hips, she said aloud, “I think our young Mr. Knight should be content with his office. I can’t wait to meet you, William Knight. If you’re half as nice as your uncle then we should have a good working relationship.”

  Chapter Two

  Courtship was far more interesting in the caveman era.

  Will had decided to stay at his uncle’s house rather than the hotel he always stayed at when in Melbourne. The house was old but comfortable and only six kilometers from the Central Business District. His mother lived too far out of the city to argue that he should stay with her. Thank God. He loved his mother dearly but she drove him crazy. What his mother needed, he’d decided, was the love of a good man. She’d been too long on her own and at forty-nine too young to remain a widow.

  He’d left the funeral directly after the service. Although anxious to meet everyone, and especially Charles Honey, Will thought it was neither the time nor place to meet the staff and discuss the future of Knight Books. He’d get into work early tomorrow. Fresh and vital, he’d interview each staff member personally. Well, he’d have Charles beside him advising him all the way.

  Moving to the sideboard, he poured himself a generous splash of Johnny Walker. Excited now about taking over the reins, h
e sipped the fiery liquid, his mind brimming with ideas about expanding the business, and if Charles Honey was as good as his record stated, then he was the man who could help him make Knight Books the best publishing house in Australia.

  He wouldn’t bombard Charles with new ideas too soon as he wasn’t sure what type of man he was dealing with. He may be sensitive about change, or he may be a man who grabbed new innovations in two hands and went along with all Will’s suggestions. Will hoped for the latter.

  As soon as they could, they’d have a chin wag about what to do, which way to go. Will wanted to talk to each staff member, assure them that their jobs were safe. All he expected was loyalty and a fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay. His uncle had stuck firmly to traditional publishing but Will had ideas about going into e-pub, especially with fiction. It was the way of the future.

  Will squashed himself into a large sofa and took a swallow of the whiskey. He nestled himself deeper into the soft leather and gazed at a rather pompous painting of his uncle hanging over the fireplace. His aunt had had it commissioned for his uncle’s sixtieth birthday. It reminded Will of the Lord of the Manor surveying his estate and manor house. His uncle was nothing like that at all. He’d been a kind and generous man who always helped someone in trouble. His staff had loved him unconditionally because of his fairness and sense of trust he’d placed in everyone he met.

  His uncle had always been there for him. Guiding him, advising him, encouraging him when he wanted to buy the run-down publishing house in Darwin. Applauding him when he’d succeeded in making it one of the most respected houses in Darwin. He loved his uncle very much and tried to model himself on him.

  Raising his glass to the painting, Will said, “Here’s to you, Uncle. I promise that I’ll make Knight Books the best publishing house I can.”

  It’d take a while to settle down and it wouldn’t be easy taking his uncle’s place. Staff usually didn’t like change, forced or otherwise. But he also knew that he could win their trust and loyalty once he proved to them that he was the same cut as his uncle.