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Philip Whitworth glanced up, his attention drawn by the sound of swift footsteps sinking into the luxurious Oriental carpet that stretched across his presidential office Lounging back in his maroon leather swivel chair he studied the vice-president as striding toward him "Well?" he said impatiently "Have they announced who the low bidder is?"

The vice-president leaned his clenched fists on the polished surface of Philip's any desk "Sinclair was the low bidder," he spat out "National Motors is giving him the contract to provide all the radios for the cars they manufacture, because Nick Sinclair beat our price by a lousy thirty thousand dollars" He drew in a furious breath and expelled it in a hiss "That bastard won a fifty- our price a fraction of one percent!"

Only the slight hardening of Philip Whitworth's aristocratic jawline betrayed the anger rolling inside him as he said, "That's the fourth time in a year that he's won a major contract away from us Quite a coincidence, isn't it?"

"Coincidence!" the vice-president repeated "It's no damn coincidence and you know it, Philip! Someone in my division is on Nick Sinclair's payroll Sooes into our sealed bid, then feeding the information to Sinclair so that he can undercut us by a few dollars Only sixto bid on this job; one of those six men is our spy"

Philip leaned farther into his chair until his silvered hair touched the high leather back "You've had security investigations made on all six of thoseon their wives"

"Then the investigations weren't thorough enough!" Straightening, the vice-president raked his hand through his hair, then let his arm drop "Look Philip, I realize Sinclair is your stepson, but you're going to have to do so to stop him He's out to destroy you"

Philip Whitworth's eyes turned icy "I have never acknowledged hie him as her son Now, precisely what do you propose I do to stop him?"

"Put a spy of your own in his company, find out who his contact here is I don't care what you do, but for God's sake, do so!"

Philip's reply was cut off by the harsh buzzing of the intercoer at the button "Yes, what is it, Helen?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, sir," his secretary said, "but there's a Miss Lauren Danner here She says she has an appointment with you to discuss employment"

"She does," he sighed irritably "I agreed to interview her for a position with us Tell her I'll see her in a few minutes" He flicked the button off and returned his attention to the vice-president, who, though preoccupied, was regarding him with curiosity

"Since when are you conducting personnel interviews, Philip?"

"It's a courtesy interview," Philip explained with an ih "Her father is a shirttail relative of mine, a fifth or sixth cousin, as I recall Danner is one of those relativesher book on our family tree Every time she located a new batch of possible relatives, she invited them up here to our house for a 'nice little weekend visit' so that she could delve into their ancestry, discover if they were actually related and decide if they orthy of mention in her book

"Danner was a professor at a Chicago university He couldn't cohter in his place Mrs Danner was killed in an automobile accident a few years later, and I never heard from him after that, until last hen he called and asked hter, Lauren, for a job He said there's nothing suitable for her in Fenster, Missouri, where he's living now"

"Rather presumptuous of him to call you, wasn't it?"

Philip's expression filled with bored resignation "I'll give the girl a fewWe don't have a position for anyone with a college degree in music Even if we did, I wouldn't hire Lauren Danner I've never eous, ill-mannered, homely child in my life She was about nine years old, chubby, with freckles and a mop of reddish hair that looked as if it was never properly colasses, and so help me God, that child looked down her nose at us…"

Philip Whitworth's secretary glanced at the young wo a crisp navy blue suit and white ascot-style blouse, as seated across froant chignon, with soft tendrils at her ears fra a face of flawless, vivid beauty Her cheekbones were slightly high, her nose small, her chin delicately rounded, but her eyes were hercurly lashes fringed eyes that were a startling, luminous turquoise blue

"Mr Whitworth will see you in a few minutes," the secretary said politely, careful not to stare

Lauren Danner looked up fro to read and sain, trying to control her nervous dread of confronting Philip Whitworth face to face

Fourteen years had not dulled the painful nificent Grosse Pointe mansion, where the entire Whitworth family, and even the servants

, had treated Lauren and herscorn…

The phone on the secretary's desk buzzed, sending a jolt through Lauren's nervous system How, she wondered desperately, had she landed in this impossible predica to call Philip Whitworth, she could have dissuaded hi about it, the call had been ed When she'd tried to object, her father had calmly replied that Philip Whitworth owed theical argu to Detroit, he expected her to keep the appointed

Lauren laid the unread hed Of course, she could have told hiht now money was her father's pri lines of strain into his pallid face Recently the Missouri taxpayers, caught in the vise grip of an economic recession, had voted down a desperately needed school-tax increase As a result, thousands of teachers were i Lauren's father Three months later he had come home from another fruitless trip in search of a job, this time to Kansas City He had put his briefcase down on the table and had smiled sadly at Lauren and her stepet a job as a janitor these days," he had said, looking exhausted and strangely pale Absently he'd ri enough to push a broo, he had collapsed, the victim of a massive heart attack

Even though her father was now recovering, that ed the course of her life… No, Lauren corrected herself, she had been on the verge of changing the course herself After years of relentless study and grueling practice at the piano, after obtaining her ree inambition, the total dedication needed to succeed as a concert pianist She had inherited her mother's musical talent, but not her tireless devotion to her art

Lauren wanted more from life than her iven her What with going to school, studying, practicing and working to pay for her lessons and tuition, there'd never been time to relax and enjoy herself By the time she'd turned twenty-three she'd traveled to cities all over the United States to play in competitions, but all she'd seen of the cities themselves were hotel rooms, practice rooms and auditoriums She'd met countless men, but there was never time for more than a brief acquaintance She'd won scholarships and prizes and awards, but there was never enough money to pay all her expenses without the added burden of a part-time job

Still, after investing so , wasteful, to throw it away for so bills that were accruing had forced her toIn April he had lost his job, and with it his medical insurance; in July he had lost his health as well In past years he had given her a great deal of financial help with school and lessons; noas her turn to help him

At the thought of this responsibility, Lauren felt as if the weight of the world was resting on her shoulders She needed a job, she needed lanced around at the plush reception area she was seated in, and felt strange and disoriented as she tried to i corporation like this one Not that it h, she would take whatever job was offered to her Good jobs with advancement opportunities were practically nonexistent in Fenster, Missouri, and those that were available paid pitifully low in coe metropolitan areas like Detroit