by K. C. Crowne
"You can't really be dropping me from the campaign," she purred, sitting on the edge of my desk and leaning over to push her cleavage in my face. Her platinum blonde hair extensions fell across my face, and I swiped them out the way.
"I'm sorry our working relationship couldn't have ended under more agreeable circumstances."
"I love it when you say big words," she said, licking her glossy lips. "Say something else."
I just stared at her.
"Look," she said. "I get it. You don't really wanna drop me, but the big guys in suits are pressuring you to do what they tell you. I get that all the time. If it ain't Bertie telling me what to wear for the fans, then the producers are telling me to do this and that and sometimes I end up making decisions that don't feel like they’re my decision at all. You get me?"
"Yes," I said, watching her lean even closer to me.
"Anyway," she continued. "Just because our little campaign together has ended doesn't mean that you and me can't..."
I lifted an eyebrow rather than acknowledge her obvious hint.
"You know, still hang out. Have some fun. The Emmys are this weekend. Would you like to be my plus one?"
"Thanks, but no. I have plans."
"What could be more important than going to the Emmys with me?" she asked, offended.
"I've got a night out planned with my best pal," I told her.
"Pffft. Come with me instead."
"I appreciate the offer, but no."
Standing up, I walked over to the door and held it for her, willing her to leave. When she continued to sprawl herself out across my desk, I yelled to Sandra.
"Sandra, see Gigi out, will you?"
She appeared in the doorway immediately, ready to escort the pop star out of my office.
"You're missing out," Gigi said as she strutted past, hitting me with her handbag as she left. "Just to let you know, Gigi doesn't give second chances. "
I burst out laughing, a response she wasn't expecting. "Okay, bye now. Have a nice day."
She walked away, seething.
"So, that went well," Sandra laughed. "I told you she was into you. Although it sounds as though you're not getting another chance.”
“I don't want it,” I chuckled. “I'm pretty sure I just dodged a bullet.”
"Eddie! Good to see you!" As I walked into the board room, I saw the sentiment wasn't shared. His face was as warm as granite, his eyes dark and unwelcoming.
"Hello," he said, rising to shake my hand.
"Thank you for coming earlier than expected. Can I get you anything?"
"No, your lovely assistant took care of me. Now, shall we sit down and discuss business?"
Wow, that was abrupt. What's he in a hurry about?
I sat across from him, the two of us alone in the vast space of the room that normally housed a dozen of the top members of the corporate sector. They had wanted to be there, of course, but I found their presence irritating. I liked to talk business face to face like a man and not hide behind a team of suits.
"Yes, let's discuss the matter at hand," I said, leaning back in my seat to feign a relaxed demeanor.
Usually nothing ruffled my feathers, but I had to admit as I sat in front of Eddie Goldwyn, a man I had admired since childhood, I felt my palms begin to sweat. It was he who had been the inspiration behind my career in the first place, the guy I had modeled myself after.
But he wasn't the spritely athlete I had adored decades ago. Now he was older and spent more time in the office than he did in the gym. Yet he still held a youthful, fiery appearance with his red hair coiffed to perfection and his posture strong and commanding.
"I'll be honest," I told him. "I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. I'd assumed that perhaps you'd have some more thinking to do on certain matters and—"
He raised a hand to silence me. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to just come out and say it."
Annoyed at him for interrupting me, I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned. "Say what?"
He ran a hand through his greased back hair, sighed, and said, "The board voted against the sale. They simply don’t want it."
"But the decision is entirely up to you," I reminded him. "As far as I remember, you own Goldwyn gyms, not the board."
He shook his head again and looked me up and down as though I was just some stupid kid with a head full of pipe dreams. "You and I both know that's not how business works. If the board says no, then the answer is no."
"Bullshit," I stated. "This sale was already set in motion. I had your word, Eddie."
"My word," he laughed and gave me a pitiful look.
I was sick of the way he talked to me, like I was nothing but an upstart compared to him, an old sage who had been in the business a lifetime. Never in my life had I felt the urge to hit an old man, but I felt as though I could have made an exception.
Eager to burn off the anger, I rose quickly and walked over to the window so I didn't have to look at his smug face.
"You really let me down," I told him, forcing my voice to remain calm. "This could have benefited both of us tremendously. Your board has made an enormous mistake."
He said nothing, but I could hear him slurping his tea.
At the window, I looked out across the Boston skyline. I could see a few of my gyms dotting the cityscape, their blue and green lights glittering among all the brown brick. But there should have been more of them where Eddie's gyms now stood.
I tried to fathom why he was being such a difficult old bastard. Didn't he want me to buy him out? Didn't he want to be rich? Surely, he couldn't go on working as he did, not at his age.
Then I thought of the board he spoke of. The faceless suits that made all the decisions for him.
Assholes, I thought. What the fuck do they know?
Then it dawned on me.
They may not know shit about running gyms, but they knew the language of money.
"It's the shares, isn't it?" I wondered aloud, still looking out the window. "They're still shareholders, so if I buy you out, they won't be able to cash in on the price hike after the acquisition."
Behind me, Eddie spun around in his seat, still sipping on his tea. "You're too smart for your own good," he said, setting the dainty cup down on the saucer with a clink. "I'm sorry things couldn't have worked out between us."
"I'm sorry, too, for wasting my time on you."
He set the cup and saucer on the table, unfazed by my insult, and said, "Have a good day, Mr. Banks. I trust I'll be seeing more of your commercials on the television."
And just like that, he walked away, closing the door with a click as he departed.
"Bastard!" I raged now that I was alone. The buyout should have gone smoothly. His gyms would be mine and Banks Fitness would be double the size it was now. But how could my dream turn to shit so quickly?
I wanted to punch a wall, but instead, I smoothed my suit, took a deep breath, and pressed the button for Sandra's desk.
"The meeting with Eddie is over," I said. "Bring a scotch on ice over to my office, will you?"
"Certainly."
As I walked to my office, she was already setting it down on my desk. When she saw my face, her eyes crinkled with concern.
"Not good news, I take it."
"No," I said, taking a sip of scotch and grimacing at its strength. "But fuck it. There'll be more opportunities to grow. This is nothing but a blip on the horizon. Won't be long until Eddie realizes what a mistake he made. "
Lunchtime came and went, and I was still reeling from the bombshell Eddie had dropped. I didn't want to be angry, but I couldn't help it. I'd been eyeing his gyms for months now, and never for a second did I think I wouldn't get them. But bureaucracy, as usual, got in the way?
I sat at my desk, sipping an espresso, trying to calm my anger.
I'd worked so fucking hard to get to where I was, and I was so close to getting to where I needed to be. But then Eddie had to throw a wrench in the works and hold me back. I shoul
dn't have taken it so badly. Business was a fickle mistress and temperamental at the best of times. I had to admit that I couldn't always get everything to go my way, but I couldn't help but feel a swell of rage. I may have been a hard worker, but since the divorce, I'd thrown myself into overdrive trying to make the company grow to newer heights. Yet it wasn't growing at all. If anything, things were moving backward.
I didn't get it. I'd built this place from the ground up using nothing but tried and tested traditional business strategies that always worked. So why weren't they working now? Why was our latest advertising campaign failing? Why couldn't we take over Goldwyn's, for Christ's sake! It should have been a done and dusted deal!
My head was spinning when I heard a knock on the door. "Yes?"
"It's your interview candidate," Sandra's voice announced as she opened the door. "Becca Canmore."
Conducting an interview was the last thing I wanted to do, and if it was anyone but Becca, I might have considered canceling. But now that she was there, there was no harm in seeing her.
"Sure, let her in," I said, sighing.
From the foyer, I heard the click of heels on the marble floor, and a second later a figure appeared in the doorway. At first, I wondered who the hell the model was who had stumbled into my office. Then I realized she was no model.
"Becca! Wow, I almost didn't recognize you."
The last time I'd seen her she was in jeans and a hoodie, carrying boxes to her car. But here she was in a tight pencil skirt that hugged her curvy hips, a tight-fitting blouse that accentuated her large, round breasts, and black stilettos. Her face, though free from makeup, was glowing and her skin was radiant. And her previously short hair was now long and flowing down her back.
"You look great!" I blurted out before I could stop myself. "I mean, you look so grown up now. Please, take a seat."
Fuck, she's gorgeous, I thought. This is not what I expected.
Appearing confident, she sat down elegantly in front of my desk and crossed her legs. "Thank you for seeing me," she said, her voice no longer babyish but mature, almost husky.
"You're very welcome."
Sitting back down at my desk, I noticed her legs were pointing in my direction, her skirt riding up her thigh to reveal the shapely form of her muscles.
Take your eyes off her! She's your best friend's daughter!
But I couldn't stop myself. It was like I was being faced with a stranger, As though the Becca I used to know was long gone and replaced with this absolute goddess.
"Okay, so your dad told me you have some ideas," I began. "He said you don't want to waste your time in the gym with all the other trainers. That you want to make it up to corporate."
"That makes me sound like an arrogant brat," she laughed, her voice filling the room. "What I actually meant was that I'd eventually like to progress up through the company, not just spend every day sweating it out with the clients."
"So you'd like to be here for the long haul?"
"Absolutely," she replied positively with a nod of her head. "I don't flake out."
I could see that. She may have been dressed femininely, but there was no denying the strength of her body, a body that had been crafted through hours in the gym and sheer sweat and determination.
She could be the face of the company, I thought to myself. She'd sell a million more memberships than that nightmare Gigi.
"So tell me some of your ideas," I encouraged. "Your dad told me you've got plenty."
A slight look of nervousness flashed across her face, then it vanished as she began to talk. "Okay, so I've been studying your company for a while now."
"You have?"
"Yes. At college we had to do a module on sports business management, and I chose Banks Fitness as my case study for my assignment."
"Wow. Impressive."
"Your company really stands out because you focus on a high-class clientele from a celebrity background. You're luxury all the way. Your prices are high, your clients are the biggest and baddest, and your gyms are synonymous with the celebrity lifestyle that everyone craves. But I think you're missing something."
"What’s that?" I asked, leaning forward eagerly.
She was on the ball, the words tumbling out her mouth as though she'd rehearsed them a thousand times. She looked as though she gave pitches like this every day of her life.
"You're missing out on folk like me, on the wannabees, the students, the millennials who want a million-dollar body on a Dollar Tree budget."
I sat back in my seat and let her words sink in.
"I know what you're thinking," she said. "That I'm nuts. That the whole point of your business is that it's high end and luxurious. That you don't want to stoop to a lower demographic. But tell me this, how many celebrities are there?"
I shrugged.
"Thousands, right?" she said. "But do you know who there are more of? People who want to be celebrities. For every Gigi, there's a thousand girls on Instagram wanting to be just like her. And that means getting access to all the things she has. The clothes, the makeup, the body..."
"The gym membership..."
Shit. She's really onto something.
"I mean, think about it. Remember when Maseratis were only for millionaires, but now you can lease them monthly. Every damned neighborhood has some guy whizzing about the streets in one of those things. It didn't hurt them to target the little man, did it?"
She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke.
“I know you're thinking I'm just some jumped up college kid with her head in the clouds. And you'd have every right. But I really think I can show you an angle your missing. A way to reach a new demographic that's uncharted territory for you.”
For a second I was stunned. In all my years in the industry, I'd never interviewed someone with so much confidence and belief in themselves. I was impressed by her, that was for sure. And not just with the way she spoke but in the way she carried herself and the effortless grace and glamour that oozed out of her.
What struck me the most was that she probably didn't even care that she wasn't wearing makeup or that her hair wasn't styled in the latest fashion. It was as though she didn't even know how good she looked. All she wanted was to talk business, and, my God, there was nothing sexier than a woman with her business hat on.
But at the same time, I had to think rationally. I couldn't just give her a job because she had the gift of gab, and I definitely couldn't give her a job because she was hot as hell. Then there was the matter of her being Bob's little girl. I never was one to indulge in nepotism and had always believed people had to earn their place in a company. So did Becca deserve a place at Banks Fitness? I was in two minds.
“I appreciate you coming in today,” I told her. “You definitely have a lot of strong ideas. I'll be in touch as soon as I make a decision.”
Looking disappointed, she narrowed her eyes and said, “Oh.”
The slump of her shoulders as she stood showed she felt rejected. She knew what I'll be in touch meant. But the look in her eyes said fuck you. I don't need your job anyway. And I didn't doubt that if I didn't give her a position, someone else would in a heartbeat.
“Well, thank you for your time,” she said, shaking my hand.
I couldn't help but notice she wasn't wearing the long, acrylic talons so many women like Olivia and Gigi wore, but had opted for clipped, unpolished nails. They were no-nonsense hands. Hands that lifted weights and worked hard. But despite the lack of girly finishings, her skin was silky soft and warm to the touch. And I found myself holding onto her hand for a moment longer than necessary.
“Goodbye, Matthew,” she said. She held my gaze for a second, smiled, then left. I watched her walk away with her head held high, her shoulders back, and her gait smooth and balanced.
“Wow,” Sandra said as she watched Becca disappear into the elevator. “That girl makes Gigi look like an old fishwife.”
“Doesn't she jus
t?” I said, still feeling her the silken touch of her hand in mine. “She'd make a Victoria's Secret model look average.”
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About the Author
Mountain Man of Liberty Series:
Knocked Up by Daddy’s Best Friend|Knocked Up by the Mountain Man| Baby for the Mountain Man| Junior for the Mountain Man| Daddy’s Best Friend| Triplets for the Mountain Man
Bearded Brother’s Mountain Man Series
Her Mountain Daddy| Beauty and the Beard| Bride and the Beard| Built and Bearded
Firemen Fantasies Series
His One Night| His Hose| His Baby
Mountain Daddies Books:
The Storm| Her Mountain Brothers| Mountain Man’s Treat|
Surprise Daddies Series
Doctor Daddy| Taboo Daddy| Royally Damaged| Boss Man| Knocked Up by My Brother’s Best Friend
Triple Team Reverse Harem Series
Men on a Mission| Christmas with Four Firemen| Dirty Cowboys
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