“A quarter of a million in repairs.” He slapped his palms on the desk and leaned forward. Sydney was reminded of Mikhail making a similar gesture. But of course Lloyd’s hands would leave no smudge of dirt. “Do you know what our annual income is from those apartments?”

“As a matter of fact I do.” She rattled off a figure, surprising him. It was accurate to the penny. “On one hand, it will certainly take more than a year of full occupancy to recoup the principal on this investment. On the other, when people pay rent in good faith, they deserve decent housing.”

“Decent, certainly,” Lloyd said stiffly. “You’re mixing morals with business.”

“Oh, I hope so. I certainly hope so.”

He drew back, infuriated that she would sit so smug and righteous behind a desk that should have been his. “You’re naive, Sydney.”

“That may be. But as long as I run this company, it will be run by my standards.”

“You think you run it because you sign a few contracts and make phone calls. You’ve put a quarter million into what you yourself termed your pet project, and you don’t have a clue what this Stanislaski’s up to. How do you know he isn’t buying inferior grades and pocketing the excess?”

“That’s absurd.”

“As I said, you’re naive. You put some Russian artist in charge of a major project, then don’t even bother to check the work.”

“I intend to inspect the project myself. I’ve been tied up. And I have Mr. Stanislaski’s weekly report.”

He sneered. Before Sydney’s temper could fray, she realized Lloyd was right. She’d hired Mikhail on impulse and instinct, then because of personal feelings, had neglected to follow through with her involvement on the project.

That wasn’t naive. It was gutless.

“You’re absolutely right, Lloyd, and I’ll correct it.” She leaned back in her chair. “Was there anything else?”

“You’ve made a mistake,” he said. “A costly one in this case. The board won’t tolerate another.”

With her hands laid lightly on the arms of her chair, she nodded. “And you’re hoping to convince them that you belong at this desk.”

“They’re businessmen, Sydney. And though sentiment might prefer a Hayward at the head of the table, profit and loss will turn the tide.”

Her expression remained placid, her voice steady. “I’m sure you’re right again. And if the board continues to back me, I want one of two things from you. Your resignation or your loyalty. I won’t accept anything in between. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”