“I don’t date,” she tells me. “I’m on a self-imposed hiatus. When I’m feeling thirsty, I just do one night stands to feed the V monster.”
“That’s okay,” I say quickly. “See, it doesn’t have to be a real date. I just need someone that I trust to go out with him so I can coach him. He needs a trial run so that I can teach him how to behave. I’ll stay with you the whole time.”
“And he agreed to this?” she asks dubiously.
“I sort of just told him.”
Based on the clock on the stove, I can see it’s nearly three o’clock already. If Blue turns me down, I won’t have enough time to find a replacement date. I really need her to be in on this with me.
“Please,” I implore. There might be some bottom lip action. I’m not above begging.
She sighs. “I dunno...” she says, taking another overly large bite of her sandwich. She glances down at my untouched food. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Oh, yeah. Of course.” I lift up half of the sandwich and make sure to take a very appreciative bite while I try to gauge whether or not I’ve convinced her yet.
The second I start chewing, my nose wrinkles of its own volition, and my tongue tries to shove the food back out. “Uh, what kind of sandwich is this?” I ask around the mouthful.
Food always looked amazing while I was in the Veil, and eating was such an event for people. They planned their whole days around it sometimes. It always made me a little envious when I watched them enjoy it. But this sandwich...this is not good. I don’t get what all the fuss was about.
“Oh, sorry,” she says. “I should’ve warned you. It’s vegan. We don’t eat any animal products.”
“Oh. Okay.” I say as I keep chewing, wondering if it’s supposed to taste like this on purpose.
She looks at me expectantly. “What do you think?”
Is that a trick question? I’m not sure, but I panic. “Uh, it’s kind of like the way I would imagine squishy wood tastes?”
She narrows her eyes at me, and I realize that was not what she wanted to hear.
I quickly amend my statement. “But really delicious squishy wood.”
There. I fixed it.
She just cocks a brow at me. Dammit.
I really need her to go on this date, so I plaster a smile on my face as I force myself to swallow. “So, so fricken good,” I tell her, my eyes wide to really drive my point home.
She finally relaxes. “It’s veggiturkey and tofu cheese. The mayo is eggless, too, and we picked the lettuce and tomatoes from our community garden. Amazing, right?”
“Mm-hmm, definitely. So amazing. Life changing, almost.” Too far? Maybe. But Blue seems happier by the second.
I pick out a huge nut from the bread before taking another—very small—bite. “What about the bread?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant, when really I’m thinking to myself, who the fuck puts birdseed in bread? It doesn’t seem right.
“Oh, that’s from Marjorie. She loves baking, so we trade her for it. We’re making her some custom cooling racks.”
“Cool,” I say, as the food sloshes around in my mouth like my tongue is considering leading a rebellion.
“So what’s the deal with this guy?” Blue prompts me while she continues to eat.
Using her question for a reason to stop eating, I quickly drop the sandwich. “What do you mean?”
“Well, aside from his fear of commitment, what’s his deal? Is he unemployed? Living with his mom? Have a beer belly? Chew tobacco?”
I shake my head. “No, none of that. He’s just an asshole. He’s too hot for his own good.”
For some reason, that seems to perk her up. “Oh, I see. You got yourself a bored greyhound.”
I tilt my head. “A what?”
“A bored greyhound. All his little fuckbunnies keep laying at his feet, ready to be caught. But a guy like him? He’s missing the chase. He wants to have to catch the rabbit. He wants a bunny who will keep him on his toes. One that will surprise him.”
That...actually makes a lot of sense.
“What’s he do for a living?” she asks.
I blink away the picture I have of Warren running around a racetrack with bunnies chasing after him in order to answer her. “He’s the CEO of a big company.”
This answer seems to simultaneously interest her and piss her off. “Oh. One of those.”
“Those?”
She nods. “A money-hungry greed-churner wearing a monkey suit.”
I fidget in my borrowed suit jacket. “Um, I guess?”
“What’s his name?”
“Warren Knight.”
Her eyes bug out of their sockets. “Warren Knight?” she sputters.
I nod slowly.
“Oh my God, I’m in,” she says.
Well, now I’m just suspicious.
“You are?” I ask warily.
“Yep. Warren Knight. California’s hotshot CEO playboy. Greed conglomerate and serial dater hater. I want to fuck with him.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Umm…”
Seeing my expression, she waves a hand. “Don’t worry. I won’t be too hard on him, and this will actually help you out. Because you know there’s zero chance I’ll get dazzled by his hotness. I’m the perfect candidate to help you help him not be such a douche.”
“Oh. Okay then, that’s good. So you’ll really do it?” I press. “You’ll go on this date?”
Blue shoves the rest of the sandwich in her mouth and then chugs some water as soon as she finishes. “Yep,” she says after wiping her mouth. “I don’t have anything else going on anyway. I’ll get ready after I’m finished soldering my glass.”
My gaze flicks over her. “Okay, but do you have clothes or…?”
Blue levels me with a look and cocks a brow. “What, do you have some negative body image thoughts that you’ve been secretly harboring this whole time?”
I blanch. “What? No, I—”
Blue’s stern face immediately cracks when she starts to laugh, cutting off my internal freak out. “Oh, man! You should’ve seen your face!”
I sulk. “Not cool.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t scare him off with my nudist ways or get arrested for public indecency. At least, not on the first date,” she says with a wink before she goes sauntering off, ass cheeks shimmying with every confident step.
“That wasn’t nice,” I tell her.
“Be honest, though. It was funny.”
She wants honest? “Well...this sandwich tastes terrible!” I call at her retreating bare backside.
She just laughs. “I know. Why do you think I eat so fucking fast?” she says over her shoulder.
Damn nudist vegans.
Chapter 11
Warren
I continue to listen to Pierson sitting across from me as he drones on and on, noting the way his cheeks have gone ruddy from years of too much alcohol consumption. His white mustache has yellowed near his mouth, but since he’s been bald for years, it’s clear he doesn’t want to let the facial hair go.
There are ten other people seated in the room for today’s board meeting, but I don’t care if I have witnesses, I’m ready to stab my eyeballs with my ballpoint pen if Pierson doesn’t shut the fuck up soon.
The board has been arguing over these investment opportunities for hours. Correction—Pierson has been arguing.
You’d think as the owner and CEO of Knight Enterprises, I wouldn’t have to deal with shit like this, but that’s not how it always works. I seek approval from my advisement board and get advice from their expertise by holding meetings like these, where I attempt to bridge the gap between the old financial gurus and the changes I want to enact to ensure that my company is relevant and keeping up with the changes of society.
Besides, Knight Enterprises has way too many moving pieces for me to manage everything on my own, which is why I have a team of people to help me do it. Unfortunately, that means that I have to endure these damn meetings and get my adv
isors on board when I want to move things in a new direction. Like right now.
“We shouldn’t be wasting resources by dabbling in things we have no business being in,” Pierson says, his stubby finger jabbing at a social media marketing strategy. “We don’t need any of this.”
“I disagree,” I say. “My group of personal researchers gave you the data. Knight Enterprises is failing in the eyes of public opinion. At worst, we’re seen as greedy, corporate grab-hands that buy up real estate left and right. At best, no one knows what the fuck we do. These sister companies we start-up will alleviate that. It’ll show that Knight Enterprises isn’t single-minded.”
“Yes, your so-called think tank,” Pierson says, nearly rolling his eyes.
I grit my teeth, imagining how public opinion would feel if I kicked him right in the ass. He can mock it all he wants, but that small group of brilliant minds that I formed come up with some amazing ideas, some of which I presented today. I know in my gut that they’ll be key in moving my company forward. And that goal is very important to me. I want Knight Enterprises to continue to be successful years—decades—down the line. I want it set up so that my successors can reap the benefits of my vision.
The fact of the matter is, while Knight Enterprises is successful, we’re old news with old ideas from when my grandfather and father created this business.
But I’ve been in charge for three years now, since my father passed away, and I finally have enough experience and a handle on things to start making some changes with confidence. But old board members are intent on stopping these changes from happening. Fortunately for me, the board is strictly advisory. I don’t have to gain their votes to make a decision. I do, however, prefer to get everyone on board with my ideas. I’ve found it creates smoother transitions.
The things I presented today are just the beginning. Things we can slowly build or just dip our feet into to feel out the response. A new trendy restaurant venture, a clean living construction company, a dating app, security startups, even some things in artificial intelligence and robotics. They’re not our norm by any means, and some of them are a bit risky, but they have excellent potential and could put Knight Enterprises on an entirely new map.
“Knight Enterprises should continue to focus on what we’re successful at. If we waste resources on some of these things, we could lose millions.”
I cut him off. “You’re basing those asinine projections on guesses and misknowledge,” I tell him before he can continue to make the rest of the board nervous. “Despite some of these ventures being more risk-driven, they’re also fiscally opportunistic. You would know that if you’d take a minute to read the research in the report in front of you,” I tell him pointedly as I point at the projection screen behind me. “In today’s technological climate, we need to keep things forward-thinking. Even if we lose some money at start up, we have plenty of other profitable businesses to make up for it.”
Pierson shakes his head and starts arguing about some of the information in the binders that my personal team worked on for today’s presentation. Bored, I glance over at Jim Harvey, my VP and best friend. Harvey is blonde, amiable, and annoyingly likable. Everybody likes the bastard. He’s essentially the polar opposite of me.
Harvey catches my look, and I see his lips twitch in response. He probably knows I’m envisioning muzzling Pierson and tossing him out of the room.
“Are you listening, Knight?”
My eyes cut over to Pierson.
No, asshole, because all you’re doing is repeating yourself for the third time.
I’ve had enough.
I look at him with a bored expression on my face. “Which part are you questioning that I heard?” I ask. “Was it the part where you implied that you don’t understand enough about the social media aspects to have any real knowledge of our new marketing strategy ideas? Or was it the part where you mentioned Knight Enterprises should stick to what it knows—i.e., what you know. Because if it’s the latter, I’m confused about what you think you do here. So please, enlighten me.”
I know I’m being a dick, but I’m fucking over listening to him.
Pierson sputters. “Capital gains and real estate,” he answers. “I suggest what properties we should be focusing on.”
“Exactly,” I tell him. “You sit on this board as my advisor for our real estate ventures because that’s your expertise.”
Pierson’s lips draw into a thin line, showing off his displeasure, but I don’t give him time to argue again.
“I’ve heard your concerns, but I disagree. This is what we are doing, so I suggest you start backing it or, at the very least, help aid the transition. Because if you don’t, I think it may be time for you to consider retirement.”
Pierson blanches, turning about three shades darker red than he already is. Some of the other board members fidget nervously in their seats. It’s not often that I throw my weight around in the boardroom. After all, I’ve been trying to build up a solid foundation of trust so that they can respectfully tell me their real opinions and feel comfortable enough to give me their ideas. But Pierson has been getting way too negative and overbearing lately, and it’s time I shut it down. If he walks because of this, well...that would just be an extra perk.
“If I may…”
My eyes flick over to Tonya West, my leading marketing strategist. I respect the hell out of her and her knowledge, and she holds a lot of weight with the other board members. Brunette, nearly as tall as me even without heels, she’s wearing one of her signature “power suits” as she likes to call them.
I nod for her to go on.
She holds up one of the spreadsheets from the presentations. “I’m very interested in these ideas, Knight. You know I’ve been telling you for months that I think we should be more publicly accessible and put our name and image out there, so I’m behind these sorts of changes.”
I nod, thankful as fuck that she said that. If I can get her support, maybe it’ll even out all the negativity from Pierson.
“I particularly like the boutique restaurant idea. Foodies will eat it up. Pun intended,” she says, earning some chuckles around the room as the tension dissipates. Tonya is thirty-something, takes no shit, and won’t hesitate to hand someone their balls. But unlike me, she also has a softer, more charismatic side.
“But what I’m really interested in is the dating app,” she goes on. “I think this is the perfect direction to go with the least amount of risk involved. I also think it could be extremely successful. I just have one issue.”
“And what’s that?”
“Well, you.”
My shoulders tense. “Excuse me?”
She tosses down the report and smooths back a strand of hair. “Let’s be honest here, Knight. You’re one of the best faces of corporate America. Young, successful, easy on the eyes,” she adds matter-of-factly with a wave in my direction. “And for these new ventures, the best way to play this would be to use your face to make Knight Enterprises more personable. The public wants to like you. But for the last several months, you’ve been viewed as nothing more than an asshole playboy who broke a Hollywood starlet’s heart.”
My hand tightens around my pen.
“Harsh,” Harvey says under his breath.
“It’s the truth,” she says unapologetically. “We need to get you past the Marla May stage.”
Marla fucking May. The bane of my existence.
Tonya isn’t wrong, which is what makes the whole thing worse. The recent media attention I got wasn’t the most flattering.
Since I became one of the youngest and most successful CEOs in the country, I’ve had my fair share of press to deal with. But that all blew up when I had a fling with an up-and-coming Hollywood actress who made it big.
There was nothing serious between us. She annoyed the fuck out of me, to be honest, but she was gorgeous, so we enjoyed each other sexually several times. But then one night, after leaving a club, she got a phone call from an ex and end
ed up in a screaming match with him. She cried, yelled, made an obnoxious scene that I loathed. But Marla loved making a scene. It’s her favorite pastime and her career of choice.
People assumed that I was the asshole who’d broken her heart that night, and Marla let the tabloids eat that theory up. “It’s good free publicity, Warry,” she’d told me in her annoying voice. “Really, you should be thanking me.”
That was the last time I saw or spoke to her, and the tabloids have hated me ever since for breaking her heart. Such a fucking joke.
And now Tonya wants me to...what? Invite even more publicity into my life? No thank you.
My jaw tightens. “I’m not interested in being the face of the company like some fucking poster boy.”
Tonya shrugs, unwilling to back down. “You already are the poster boy whether you want to be or not. We want to bolster Knight Enterprises in the public eye? Then give the people something to like about you.”
I swear, I could break my jaw from how damn hard I’m clenching my teeth.
“You know I’m right,” Tonya goes on. “Show me that you have a plan to get your personal shit in order, to be the darling Captain fucking America CEO that the people want, and I’ll back you on this one hundred percent.”
First Pierson, and now this. This board meeting is a complete shit show.
Probably sensing that I’m about to blow a gasket, Harvey stands, intervening slowly. “Alright, why don’t we break here?” The board wastes no time nodding in agreement, no doubt wanting to escape before my temper finally breaks and I end up firing everyone in the goddamn room. “I think we’ve had enough for today. We have plenty of material to go through for now. In the meantime, I suggest we do an interim trial run.”
I look over at my friend. “What are you thinking?”
“How about four weeks?” he suggests. “Let’s see how we can get these ventures kick-started and what kind of launch we can anticipate. I, for one, am interested in seeing the social media response. If the feedback is positive, then we should allocate resources to make it happen. If it doesn’t...we’ll reconvene and come up with another solution,” he says smoothly. “But I think Tonya is right. So get ready to be a fucking poster boy, Knight,” he adds, letting a grin spread out. I want to punch it right off his face.
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