“Can we talk?”
Sylvie nodded. “I’m just heading up to Erik’s office to drop off breakfast. I can meet you afterward in the break room. What are we talking about?”
Ingrid smiled. “We’ll go over that once you drop off that meal. And Mrs. Jordan was in the office with her son when I left. Not sure if she’s still there or not.”
“Duly noted,” she replied as she pressed the up button on the elevator. Now, Ingrid needing to have this little talk was giving her pause. So many things ran through her mind. Was she going to tell her that she and Erik were a couple and he’d been using her to make Ingrid jealous? Was she going to throw down the gauntlet and tell Sylvie that she wasn’t qualified to be with Erik? Why did she have to throw it in her face that his mother had been in his office? Did that mean Ingrid and his mom were cool, and she’d immediately hate Sylvie or view her as the help?
By the time the door opened to the executive suite, Sylvie had worked herself into a frenzy. But the moment she walked into Erik’s office—without knocking—and saw him standing there naked, she saw red.
“Erik, what in the hell is going on?” She gave him a slow once-over and gritted her teeth.
“Changing for my CNN interview. You could’ve knocked if you didn’t want to see me naked.”
“What’s the deal with you and Ingrid?”
He raised his right eyebrow as he grabbed his boxers from his desk. “She’s my PR guru. There is nothing going on with us that isn’t business. Why?”
Sylvie shrugged and set the bags of food on the desk. “This is me overreacting. I’m sorry.”
“Did she say something to make you think . . . No, here’s the better question. Have I done anything to make you think that there is another woman in my life not named Yvonne Jordan or Sylvie Gates?”
She stroked the back of her neck. “You know how you go on a job interview and they ask you what your biggest weakness is? These days, mine seems to be jumping to the wrong conclusions.”
Erik slipped into his perfectly pressed gray slacks, then crossed over to her. “Sylvie, with me what you see is what you get. I’m not about playing with you, and I hope I can get the same thing from you.” He cupped her cheek. “Don’t break my heart.”
“Only if you promise the same.”
He brushed his lips against hers. “That’s one promise I can definitely keep. And for the record, I don’t mix business with pleasure unless I’m doing it with Sylvie Gates.”
“Well, if you’re still hungry, I brought you Mama B’s breakfast platter with blueberry preserves for your pancakes.”
“You’re a saint and Mama B is a queen for sending the preserves.” He reached back for the bag. “And I smell sausage.”
“She said we should come by for dinner one night, since Olivia and Logan made . . . She knows we’re seeing each other.”
Erik nodded as he opened the container and stuck his finger in the small container of preserves. “Come here.”
Sylvie shot him a questioning look. “What are you up to?”
Erik took two steps closer to her. “I love Mama B’s pancakes, but I think there is something else these preserves will taste better on.” He smoothed the sticky jelly across her lips then licked her bottom lip. “Yep.”
Before she could reply, Erik had captured her lips in a hot kiss that made her swoon. Breaking the kiss, he smiled at her. “I’m thinking that those preserves will taste better in so many other places.”
“You’re too much. And I have to get to work.”
“Who’s going to check you?”
She ran her hand down his bare chest. “My crew. We can pick this up later.” Sylvie winked at him and sauntered out the door. She’d almost forgotten about the talk she and Ingrid were supposed to have until she passed the break room and saw her.
“Sylvia, did you forget about our meeting? I even made you a cup of coffee.”
“Can we just get to the point? I have work to do.” Sylvie folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head to the side.
“Fine. And please don’t take this the wrong way, because I’m just asking these questions from a PR perspective. What’s your end game here with Erik?”
“How is that a public relations question?”
“Sylvia, you’re a businesswoman and I know you’re aware of what’s going on here. I’m just making sure we’re not going to have another storm brewing if you and Erik get in a fight. Just thinking about the good of the company.”
“Sure you are. Ingrid, if you think I’m here to cause trouble for this company or for Erik, knowing what he’s facing right now, then you should do a deeper Google search. And I don’t share my personal business with the world.”
“And you’ve never dated anyone like Erik before, so . . .”
Sylvie shook her head. “Thank you for your concern, Ingrid. But you don’t have to worry about me.” Rolling her eyes, Sylvie walked away from Ingrid and she couldn’t help but wonder what she was going to tell Erik about their encounter. Did it even matter? Erik said she was just an employee, and maybe she was simply doing her job. Sylvie pushed it out of her mind and headed to the site where her crew was working.
Chapter 19
Yvonne sat at the bar of The Lawrence in Midtown and nursed a peach martini. Looking around the restaurant, she watched couples having lunch, girlfriends laughing over drinks, and hipsters drinking craft beer.
“Are you sure you don’t want to see a menu?” the bartender asked her.
“No thank you. I’m just going to enjoy my drink.”
“All right. But if you change your mind, let me know.”
Yvonne nodded and brought her glass to her lips and took a sip of the sweet drink. She was about to ask the bartender for a menu when she walked over to the bar and stood beside her.
“Yvonne, I’m surprised to see you looking so slim. When Simon removed you from the cosmetics campaign, I thought it was because you’d gotten fat.”
Yvonne gripped her glass as if she was contemplating tossing the contents in this woman’s face. It wasn’t often that Yvonne could say that she hated someone. But when it came to Helen Graham, she wished nothing but ill will for this woman. When she’d left Atlanta twenty years ago, Yvonne had hoped she would’ve fallen off the face of the earth. But here she was, alive and standing in her personal space.
“Why are you here, Helen?”
“Wanted a front-row seat to see what was going on with Jordan Industries. I can’t believe you and Simon are throwing everything away.”
“Get away from me.” Yvonne took a small sip of her drink, and to her dismay Helen sat on the empty stool beside her.
Helen waved for the bartender. “I’ll have what she’s having.”
Yvonne scoffed at her. “I see nothing has changed at all—you always want what I have.” She set her glass down and gave Helen a slow once-over. Obviously, the woman had been under the knife a time or two. Helen never had natural curves, now she did? Whatever. Her full lips looked plastic and her face looked as if she’d had one shot of Botox too many. “My job, my husband, and now my drink. One day you’ll be able to find your own identity.”
Helen rolled her eyes. “I had all of those things. Why not try the drink as well?”
That did it. To hell with decorum or not making a scene. “Have the drink, please.” Yvonne tossed the remainder of her cocktail in Helen’s face, then pushed her off the stool. “You arrogant bitch! Don’t you dare come at me telling me that you’re celebrating my family’s issues. I turned a blind eye to your bullshit years ago, but not this time. You need to crawl back under the rock where you came from.”
The bartender rushed over to the women. “Ladies, is there a problem?” He reached down to help Helen to her feet.
“You really should watch the trash you allow in here,” Yvonne said. “And the drinks are on that tramp.” Rising to her feet, Yvonne slowly walked toward the exit.
“When Simon gets out of jail, why don’t yo
u ask him about our daughter!”
Yvonne stopped in her tracks and whirled around. “Your what?”
Wiping her face, Helen smirked at her nemesis. “Maybe you met her. She works for the company, because my child was going to have a part of her father’s legacy just like your sons.”
“You are such a liar.”
“Don’t believe me? Then ask your husband. So, yes, Yvonne. I’ve had everything that you thought was yours. The money, the family, and the man.”
Yvonne tore out of the restaurant. She had expected that she’d cry, but if she was honest with herself, she’d known for years that Helen and Simon had been carrying on an affair, but a child? He had a child with this bitch. She needed answers, even if that meant she had to go to the jail and confront her husband.
* * *
Erik sat in the CNN studio being fitted with a microphone and listening to Ingrid telling him to relax. “Just answer all of the questions honestly and—”
“Ingrid, I got this. Do me a favor, check the stock prices, and do another release on the new line with Logan so that we can get some positive press today.”
She nodded and pulled out her cell phone to call the office. Erik touched her hand after he’d been mic’d up. “Thank you for everything, Ingrid.”
“No problem. I’m just doing my job. If I can’t be great in a crisis, then I’m in the wrong business.”
Moments later, the CNN Money host walked into the studio and shook hands with Erik. “Thanks for being here.”
“Thank you for allowing us to tell the whole story,” Erik replied.
“We’re going live in ten seconds.”
Erik listened to the producer’s countdown in his ear. Then the interview began.
“Good afternoon, and welcome to CNN Money-wise. I’m Leo Carpenter, and today we’re in the studio with Jordan Industries CEO Erik Jordan.”
“Good afternoon,” Erik said.
“Your company has been in the news for a number of reasons lately, and most of them not good. Your father, former CEO Simon Jordan, is facing charges of stealing from the company and defrauding stockholders. Two larger companies have expressed interest in buying Jordan Industries, but you’re steadfast in not selling—despite a big drop in your stock prices. Why is that?”
Erik cleared his throat. “Our cosmetics mean a lot to a population of women who have been ignored and marginalized by society in general. Jordan Industries has celebrated women of color since our inception, and I don’t want that legacy to be erased or diluted. We’re going to rebound from the mess that has happened these past few months.”
“And how do you plan this rebound, especially after today’s news of Simon Jordan attempting to skip out on his bail?”
Erik could hear Ingrid telling him to smile, so he did. “We’re taking the company in a new direction with some innovative skin-care products and a makeup line inspired by famed artist LJ.”
“That’s a good start, but how are you going to regain the confidence of your stockholders?”
“How do you make stockholders happy? You increase profits. I’m banking on this new line and the skin-care products to do just that. It is a new day at Jordan Industries, and I’m happy to lead this company. Our stockholders can also expect more transparency in our reports, and our board is behind the changes that we’re making because we’re no longer a company that one man runs like a dictatorship.”
Leo nodded. “Is it hard to come in and take over for your father because of his wrongdoing and not because he retired?”
“It’s not. Doing the right thing is never hard. It may not be what I want, but it had to be done.”
“Mr. Jordan, thank you for being here today, and we look forward to seeing the rise of Jordan Industries.”
Erik had never been happier to see a light go off. He pulled his mic off and shook hands with Leo. “That was a great interview,” he said to the host.
“My mother, grandmother, and sister told me not to mess this one up. They love your makeup. There is one question I was told to get an answer for today, though.”
“What’s that?”
“What happened to the Yvonne lipstick?”
Erik laughed. “Tell them to stay tuned.” Looking to his right, he saw Ingrid standing in the wings shooting him a thumbs-up signal. Crossing over to her, he gave her a slight hug.
“You did good, Mr. Jordan,” she said with a smile. “We should celebrate with a nice lunch.”
He looked at his watch. “I have a meeting in twenty minutes, but if you want to hit up your favorite sushi place on me, go ahead.”
“That’s all right. I probably should go check on my mother. She came for an unannounced visit and said we needed to talk about something.”
“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and spend it with your mom?”
“Are you sure? Don’t we have some other—”
“You’ve been working like a dog, and while this thing isn’t over, you need some rest.”
“I think you’re getting this boss thing down. Thanks, Erik.” She started to walk away, then she turned around and faced him. “Before I go, I want to tell you about a conversation I had with Sylvia.”
He shook his head. “What happened?”
“I just wanted to make sure that she wouldn’t be another attention-grabbing headline and I hope you don’t think that I overstepped my boundaries.”
Erik shook his head. “If this came from a place of business, then you didn’t overstep. But in the future, my personal life is off limits.”
“Got it. Well, I’m going to grab my mother and feed her sushi, on you—right?”
“You got it. See you tomorrow.”
* * *
Sylvie snapped pictures of the progress that she and her crew had made in the executive suite. She loved the colors that they’d ended up going with: red, gold, and green. She decided to save the purple for Erik’s office.
Erik’s office. Naked Erik standing in the middle of the office and blueberry preserves. She hadn’t realized how much she was smiling until one of her workers crossed over to her.
“We’re doing that good of a job?” he joked.
“Ha! Actually, yes. And we’re so ahead of schedule on this project.”
“Easy to do work when the boss actually shows up with ideas and not attitude.”
Sylvie turned away, knowing that he was talking about Amanda. She had no idea that her former partner had been that bad. But it didn’t matter anymore. She was running her business her way, and things were going better than she’d ever imagined. Just as she was about take another picture, her phone rang.
“This is Sylvie,” she said when she didn’t recognize the number.
“Sylvie, it’s Myra Jennings from the Sweet Spot.”
“Hey, Myra! How are you?”
“Girlfriend, I’m amazing. We’re expanding our business.”
“Ooh, congratulations! Seems like there is a lot of that going on right now.”
Myra laughed. “And I know you don’t think so, but I do credit your redesign with a lot of my business turnaround.”
“Come on, Myra, you have some of the best pastries on the East Coast. I have nothing to do with that.”
“Well, I’m taking my treats across the pond.”
“What! That’s amazing.”
“I need you to design my place. I’ll pay for your trip to London and your housing while you’re here.”
“When are you opening the shop?”
“Next month. Please tell me you have space in your schedule for me. I really want to bring a piece of Brooklyn to London.”
“When do I need to give you an answer? I have a project that I’m finishing up in Atlanta, then I should be free.”
“If you can let me know by the end of the week, that would be great.”
“Will do,” she said. “And thank you for thinking of me for this job.”
“Sylvie, there is no one else I’d want to create this space for me.
”
After hanging up the phone, Sylvie did her happy dance. London! She had a chance to be international! This would be another feather in her cap and she’d be on her way to the success she deserved.
What about Erik? The thought startled her. Granted, they had just started seeing each other, but would going to London change things? He knows that I’m a businesswoman and he’ll understand.
But what if he doesn’t want you to go? “Why does it even matter?” she muttered.
“You say something, boss?” one of the workers asked.
“No, no. You guys can go once this room is finished. I need to talk to Mr. Jordan about the photo shoot and everything.”
“Cool.”
Sylvie headed toward Erik’s office. When she heard raised voices coming from the other side of the door, she stopped short of going inside.
“Ma! What were you thinking? You know there are cameras everywhere these days.”
“I’ve always hated that bitch, and for her to tell me that she and your father have a child together. I can’t believe this.”
“She probably said that just to get a reaction out of you.”
“She said it after she’d hit the floor. Maybe she bumped her head and was just talking out of her ass.”
“Ma, this is the last thing we need right now.”
Sylvie felt like an interloper, so she knocked on the door instead of continuing to eavesdrop.
“Come in,” Erik bellowed.
She walked in and smiled. “Hi, Erik.”
“Sylvie, what’s up?”
“It’s not that important. Didn’t mean to interrupt. We can talk later if you’re busy.”
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