“You would think his health scare would make him more compassionate toward others. The things he does to make money…” She bit her lip. She shouldn’t badmouth him to his own sister, but Ivy’s expression settled into one of reflection rather than condemnation.
“He can definitely be difficult,” she agreed, “but his decisions aren’t always cut and dry, and frankly, I’m glad he has to make the final call on most things. I sure wouldn’t want to. A while back sales had declined for several years in a row. We’d all voted to keep the marketing firm in place because we thought they could turn things around. After all, my father had hired them and they’d worked with us for years, but Cyrus wasn’t convinced. He made the radical decision to fire them. The truth is, it was time for them to go, and he was the only one brave enough to make the call. He found a smaller firm in Atlanta and gave them the job to create a fresh marketing campaign. It included new ads and a brand new social media strategy. Since then, sales have spiked upward again. If he hadn’t made the decision to fire the first firm, we might have had to lay people off, something none of us wanted to do.”
“Are you saying it wasn’t about the bottom line?”
“No, Cyrus likes to make money. It’s always about the bottom line.” Ivy laughed. “But it’s more complicated than that.” She squeezed Daniella’s arm. “He works hard, sometimes too hard, and not even Mother can get him to slow down. That’s why I’m really glad the two of you are back together.” She looked so grateful, Daniella felt a pang of guilt. She didn’t plan to stay married to Cyrus. Ivy thought they had a much better relationship than they did. “You’re good for him.”
Good for him, Daniella mused. She’d heard that comment before from other members of the Johnson family when they first married. While she considered their words a compliment, no one seemed to consider whether or not Cyrus was good for her.
****
The ride home in the chauffeured sedan was quiet. Daniella stared out the window, watching the lights of the buildings go by.
“You’re all moved in?” Cyrus asked beside her.
She nodded and glanced over at him. “I haven’t been home yet.” It felt strange to call the mansion home, but it was, for now. “Shaun assured me everything will be unpacked when I get there.”
“If you’re not satisfied with anything he’s done, let him know and he’ll fix it.”
“I’m sure he did a good job,” she said.
Cyrus worked his staff hard, but even she had to admit he was generous to them. They received large bonuses, not only in the form of money, but as trips abroad, cars, and jewelry. He was particularly sensitive to any familial issues among his staff. She recalled a time when Ms. Ernestine’s sister had been ill, and he’d paid to have her moved to a private facility and given his housekeeper paid time off to stay with her sister until she recovered.
“How’s business?” Cyrus asked after a few minutes. He lifted his hand to forestall her response, and quickly added, “I’ll just listen.”
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and she gave in to it. They used to talk about business late at night. She’d tell him her concerns and what she worried about. Then he’d make suggestions of what she could do to fix the problems. At times she found it aggravating, but then she realized he was one of those men—the kind who saw a problem and had to fix it. He couldn’t help himself. She learned to preface every conversation with the words, “I just need you to listen.”
“Business is good,” she said, staring at her fingers, “but there’s a lot going on.”
“Like what?”
She eyed him warily. She desperately wanted to confide in someone. But could she trust him?
He shifted in the seat. “I can tell by the way you answered there’s more you want to say.”