by Claire Adams
“I read about all of that,” I said, frowning. “But still, Andrew Goldwright has clearly had a positive impact on the company. Sure, his father created the company and made it a sizable player in the online retail industry. But it wouldn't be where it was today without the shrewd, and sometimes ruthless, tactics of the son.”
“Maybe so, but underneath it all, I have a feeling that Goldwright is exactly what you'd expect from someone with his upbringing: a spoiled and petty brat. Some rude guy who would never have been able to cut it if he'd had to start at the bottom and schmooze his way up.”
I grinned at Chuck. “Is that what you're doing here?” I asked teasingly. “Just trying to schmooze your way to the top?”
“Isn't that what we're all doing?” Chuck responded, his tone equally teasing. But then, his look turned serious again. “You know I'm here because Albright feels like a family,” he said. “I chose this job because I interviewed with Melinda, and she made me feel like I would be a valuable asset to the company. Because she made me feel like she valued my time and valued me as an individual. I'm afraid we're going to lose all of that, if Orinoco takes over.” He paused. “Scratch that, I know we're going to lose all of that if Orinoco takes over.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “To be honest, I haven't thought through what the buyout means for the company,” I admitted. “My job is just to give them the facts of it. It's for my higher-ups to make the decisions on what's best for the company.”
Chuck frowned. “It's rare that a buyout doesn't result in some sort of reorganization, and reorganization tends to mean that people lose their jobs.”
“True,” I agreed. “But I have a pretty specialized position as an insurance analyst. They can't replace me with just anyone. And what's more, there's no real reason for them to want to replace me. I don't get paid all that well, so it's not like I'm sapping up company resources, and I do my job well and turn in my reports on time. That's all they could be looking for, isn't it?”
“It's all about loyalty,” Chuck insisted. “Besides, you can't tell me that you don't like the relatively laid-back corporate culture that we currently have. Being able to wear whatever you want in the privacy of your office. Having an office where, for all your higher-ups know, you could be browsing social media all day. Knowing all your higher-ups by name and going out with them for drinks on Fridays. Things like that. None of that is going to exist with Orinoco.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because that's not the way companies like that operate,” Chuck said, shaking his head. “I used to work for a company that was similar to Orinoco in some respects. Very cutthroat. Every man for himself. It's not a fun place to come to work in the mornings. I can tell you that much.”
I laughed. “Chuck, we work in an office. And sure, we may both love the people that we're working here with, and it might not be the harsh office environment that some companies promote, but at the same time, it's not all about fun. Do you honestly think Orinoco is going to change us that much? They probably won't even care what the company workplace is like, as long as we keep increasing our bottom line profits.”
“I wouldn't be so sure.” Chuck sighed. “As much as I'd like to believe that they won't care about anything more than the profits, I think that it's precisely because they care about the profits that they'll care about the company. They'll view it as modifying our work ethic. Streamlining things. Promoting company loyalty.”
“Well, even if that eventually does happen, that's nothing that I need to worry about today,” I said, wishing I could sound as firm as I wanted to. “All I have to worry about today is giving this presentation and getting all the facts across.”
“Watch out for Goldwright, though,” Chuck advised.
I rolled my eyes. “Watch out for what?” I asked. “Sure, his business practices may be ruthless, but that's something for the supervisors to consider when they're thinking about the trade. It's not like he's going to get up in the middle of my presentation and do something. I'm more worried that I'm going to say something stupid or mess something up with one of my slides.”
“Just, remember that Andrew Goldwright has something of a reputation,” Chuck said slowly, and from the look he was giving me, he was trying to hint at something more than the man's business reputation.
I laughed. “Relax,” I said. “I appreciate your looking out for me, but I'm sure Andrew isn't going to do anything that could jeopardize this takeover. He's not stupid, no matter what you seem to believe.”
“I never said he was stupid,” Chuck muttered.
“Lacking in business sense, then, or whatever it was you said.” I smiled a little at him. “Chuck, don't worry about me. I'm a big girl. I'm sure I can handle whatever it is that he throws at me. As long as he doesn't ask me to stand on my head and recite the last ten years of tax returns or anything like that!”
“I doubt he'll do that,” Chuck said, finally cracking a smile. “I'll take you out to lunch afterward. How does that sound?”
“We're having lunch catered in during the meeting,” I said apologetically. “But maybe we could get drinks later this week?”
“Sure, sure,” Chuck agreed. “Break a leg, trooper.”
I smiled and turned back toward my presentation. “Thanks,” I said, even though I was already typing in the final section of text.
Chapter Two
Andrew
I rifled through the paperwork one more time, glad that I'd had Jenny, my secretary, postpone my meeting with the Albright girl until later in the afternoon, rather than the early-afternoon meeting that had originally been scheduled. Orinoco was most likely going to take over Albright. I just needed a bit more information about all the various implications of the buyout before I could sign it. And one of the implications that I needed the most information about, at the moment, was the potential insurance implications.
Orinoco had made a name for itself as one of the premier online retailers, but if we successfully bought out Albright, we would become something more than that. Not only did Albright carry its own portfolio of products that it sold online, but it made its deliveries using drones. If we could corner the market on drone deliveries, we would really be head and shoulders ahead of the competition.
The problem was, I didn't know what would happen if those deliveries went bad. There was too much potential for drones to crash or deliveries to be lost or damaged. I wasn't sure that Orinoco was prepared to absorb those risks.
Hence, why I needed to talk to Albright's main insurance analyst.
Jenny knocked lightly on the door and poked her head inside. “Mr. Goldwright, your three p.m. meeting is here,” she informed me.
I waved my hand. “Send her in,” I said, shuffling my papers into order on my desk.
The woman who entered my office was nothing like I would have expected. I didn't deal much with the insurance analysts that worked for Orinoco, but I had assumed they were all frumpy, older women who had gotten bored working in the finance department and decided to lone-wolf it in the insurance department.
But this woman was young, maybe a few years younger than me, and she was far from frumpy. She wore a neat gray suit with a bright, silky purple shirt that emphasized her pale skin and dark hair. And those legs, wow. They went all the way up.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Ms. Jordan, or may I call you Lexi?” I asked.
“Mr. Goldwright,” she said in response, her tone clipped and her gaze frosty. “Thank you so much for agreeing to see me today.”
Ah, so she was upset about the change of time and change of venue, then. She had to realize that my time was more valuable than hers, though. Surely!
I nodded towards a chair. “Can I get you something to drink? Water, or perhaps something stronger?” I placed my finger over the call button on my phone, ready to have Jenny bring whatever the woman wanted.
But Lexi didn't sit down like I had expected her to. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at me. “Mr. Goldwright, I'
m here on business,” she said, in that same holier-than-thou tone that she'd used before. “I have a presentation for you, and I'll need a projector screen for it. So, unless your office is hiding something that I'm not seeing, I suggest that we adjourn to your nearest conference room.”
A pity: she had the frumpy attitude, even if she didn't have the looks to match it.
I probably wasn't going to be able to convince her to have a quick fuck right there in my office, as much as I'd love to bend her over the nearest surface and have my way with her, but I wondered if I could get her into bed with me regardless.
“I've read over most of the information you sent already,” I said, waving a careless hand. “I don't care much about your presentation, although I'm sure it's very informative. But I have some questions for you, and I'd like to hear you answer those rather than just read off slides for me.”
At that, she looked uncertain, and I wondered what sort of company Albright was that she was so afraid to go off-script. It didn't really matter, though. Once we bought their company, we'd have the ability to change whatever we thought needed to be changed, up to and including the fundamental structure of the company.
She shook her head, though. “Sorry, I thought I was going to be presenting to a group of Orinoco’s executives, or else I would have tailored the presentation to your specifics.” She sounded nervous and uncertain, and I couldn't help but laugh.
I stood up and went over to the mini-bar in the corner of my office. Normally, the wine inside was reserved for close friends or celebrations, but just this once, I'd make an exception. “Here,” I said, handing her a glass of wine. “You sound like you could use this.”
She sputtered, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “This is a work meeting!” she hissed.
“Of course, it is,” I agreed. “But we're not going to get any work done if you're tripping over your tongue for the entirety of it.” I smiled at her, hoping to charm her into relaxing.
She stared at me for another moment and then slowly reached out to accept the glass of wine. Equally cautiously, she folded herself into a seat.
Normally, I'd take the seat behind my desk and play up my position of power. Today, I chose to sit next to her, dragging the second chair close enough that our knees were almost brushing when we leaned in to look at the paperwork that she'd brought over.
“You were originally supposed to be meeting with some of my executives,” I told her offhandedly. “But this deal with Albright could launch both of our companies into the forefront of the industry, and I decided it was too important for me to pass it off on some of my lackeys.” I grinned over at her. “To be honest, I have a tendency to micromanage.”
“Oh,” Lexi said, looking at a loss for words.
“But there's a good reason for it,” I continued, boasting. “Under my leadership, I've taken Orinoco from being just a player in the online retail industry to being one of the forerunners in developing new technologies in said industry. Orinoco wasn't even a publicly-traded company before I came along, and now it's one of the most massive companies in the world.”
“Right,” she said.
She didn't sound impressed. In fact, if I had to gauge her, I'd say that she sounded disgusted. I suppressed a grin, wondering if she knew she was that easy to read. She probably thought I was arrogant, just another dim-witted dude whose dad had placed a bit too much trust in him. Or maybe she just wanted to go home. But what she said next surprised me.
“Orinoco has had a string of good luck,” she agreed, nodding her head. “But no one can stay on top forever.”
I stared at her for a long moment, watching as she fixed her challenging eyes on me and took a cool sip of her wine. Suddenly, I wondered who was judging whom here.
I shook my head, feeling almost shaken, and turned towards the papers she had brought. “What I'm really concerned about, if I'm being honest, are drone crashes and liabilities,” I told her.
“I figured as much,” Lexi said, nodding sagely. “We have reports on all of the issues that we've faced over the years. They should have been included in the documents that were sent over prior to this meeting.”
“They were,” I told her. “But what I really want is some sort of projection on what Orinoco can expect if we are to put your technology to use with our company.”
Lexi leaned back, studying me for a moment. “Well, that would depend on what exactly you were planning on using our technology for,” she said, a smile playing over her lips. “To be honest, you haven't really been clear on what you're hoping for. You know what we can do, but we have no idea what Orinoco's plan is for the next year or for the next five years.”
I frowned at her. “Obviously, we're hoping to incorporate drone deliveries into what we already do,” I said.
“Obviously,” Lexi said sardonically. “On all deliveries, though? On most deliveries? Until I know numbers, I'm afraid I can't really give you any sort of estimate on what you could expect this technology to cost your company.”
“So, what you're saying is that you're unprepared for this meeting,” I said, deliberately pushing her. It wasn't really a business tactic at this point. I just wanted to see what would happen when she snapped.
But instead of the rage that I was expecting, she just gave me a frosty look. “Perhaps if you hadn't waited until the last minute before changing everything to do with this meeting, I could have tailored it to better suit your needs,” she said. But that was the end of the cool confidence from her. In the next second, she was clapping a hand over her mouth and looking scared. “Sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful. I'm just a bit nervous, that's all, and when I get nervous, I have a tendency to speak without thinking.”
I smiled at her. “Why don't you make it up to me?” I asked, giving her an obvious once-over that I'm sure did nothing to hide my intentions. “Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night. There's this beautiful place that just opened on the top floor of the Columbia Tower. I can call in a favor or two and get us a table, even on short notice like this.” The truth was, I already had a reservation, since the last time I hadn't had a date on a Friday night must have been at least five years ago. But she didn't need to know that.
Her brow furrowed, and I thought for a moment that she was going to say no. But of course, she didn't. Instead, her protest was much more practical.
“Mr. Goldwright, you do realize I'm just an insurance analyst? If you're looking for some way to sweeten the deal for Orinoco, I'm not the person who you would need to wine and dine. I have no say in any of that. I'm just here to relay the facts to you.”
I laughed. “Oh, Lexi,” I purred, shaking my head. “Trust me when I say my thoughts are on anything other than business. From what I've seen, you're very beautiful and very intelligent. I like that in a woman. I admire that in a woman. I'm asking you to dinner purely for my own entertainment. And yours, I hope.”
She looked uncertain, and I wondered just how much of a prude she was. It had been a while since I’d had any woman prove to be a challenge. Usually, when they heard about my millions and saw my good looks, they were practically throwing themselves at my feet.
Lexi straightened a little, looking over my shoulder, and I could see that blush back on her cheeks. I wondered what it would take to cause it to darken. I wondered if she would blush when I laid her down in bed and stripped her bare.
“All right,” she finally agreed. “You can take me to dinner. But you're paying, Mr. Billionaire.”
“That's only fair,” I agreed, feeling a quick flash of disappointment at the fact that she had given in so easily. Maybe she was just the same as all the other women. I'd still take her to dinner, of course, because it would be rude to rescind the offer now. Anyway, I was still interested in her body, even if she proved to be dull in other respects. It was a shame, though. I really did want a challenge.
I suppressed a sigh and turned back to the papers in front of us, hurrying through her explanations so I could get her out of
my office and forget about how badly I needed something truly interesting in my life again.
Chapter Three
Lexi
I checked my reflection one last time and turned towards Misty, putting my hands on my hips. “You're sure you don't think it's too much?” I asked worriedly.
Misty snorted. “If anything, I think it's not enough,” she said. “You said he was taking you to that new place in Columbia Tower, didn't you? You realize that restaurant only seats about ten tables at a time? You have to know someone to get in there. And you have to have money to know someone. Plus, it's French. You're never going to look overdressed at a fancy French restaurant. That's the way I see it.”
I turned back towards the mirror. “Now you've got me worried that I'm underdressed,” I muttered.
“You look beautiful,” Misty said, catching my arms and pulling me back around, critically eyeing my simple black dress and turquoise jewelry. “God, I'd kill to have curves like yours!”
“You've got that cute petiteness to you, though,” I protested.
“And you've got boobs, a narrow waist, and a good ass,” Misty complained. “And a brain.”
I laughed. “You've got a brain,” I said.
“Sure, but nothing like yours, Ms. Statistician,” Misty said, rolling her eyes. A horn honked out front, and Misty turned me around, swatting my ass and sending me on my way. “I'll have my phone on,” she promised, before I could even ask. “Same as always. If anything goes bad, just shoot me a text, and I'll call with news of some disaster.”
I grinned at her. “You're the best,” I told her.
“Of course, I am,” Misty said, tossing her hair. “I'm your best friend. Now get going. And just try to have a little fun tonight, would you? You haven't been on a date in ages.”