by Tricia Owens
“I appreciate your concern,” Ethan said. “But the thing is—and I need you to accept this, Merrick—my happiness is no longer your concern. I am no longer your concern. I’m happily married to a man who takes very good care of me.”
“And he’s not your daddy?”
Not how you mean. “No.”
Merrick held up both hands in a sign of surrender. “I’ve heard you loud and clear. I won’t ask again.” He smiled. “I’m glad. I’m real glad. Even though it’s not my concern. Not in any way, shape, or form is it my concern. Nope.”
“You’re the same old troublemaker you were before,” Ethan said with a fond shake of the head. “I think I dodged a bullet with you.”
“A considerate, loving bullet who’s willing to learn to love artichoke dip.”
Ethan tried to hold his laughter in but couldn’t. “I’d tell you you’re pathetic but I think you already know that.”
Merrick sighed. “Truer words were never spoken.”
At Ethan’s direction, the limo turned around at Southpoint and began making its way north up the Strip again. They would eventually pass by The Elite Poole Worldwide offices, but Ethan was unsure whether Merrick and Max should meet. The contract had already been signed and filed. There was no need for face to face interaction. Nonetheless, it felt rude not to introduce Merrick to his husband. Merrick wasn’t just a client. He was a friend. He was part of Ethan’s history.
But in this situation, should history remain in the past?
Better to keep my old and present lives separated. No need to stir the pot.
“You said you did a campaign for a boutique jeans company. What else?” Ethan asked as Merrick once again took up his camera and continued taking shots out the window. “You say you haven’t been creative lately, but I remember you always managed to put a twist on even the most conservative of projects.”
“No, no, you’re right,” Merrick said carelessly, the majority of his attention focused outside the window. “It hasn’t been all bad. I designed an interesting campaign for Bulk Leatherworks a few months back. It seemed to be a hit.”
“That was yours? Wow, I’ll say it was a hit. When I saw the one ad—the one with the blue dyed harness—Max had to shut down the computer to force me to stop staring at it.”
Merrick eyed him. “He didn’t buy it?”
Ethan grinned. “He was tempted, and he never makes impulse purchases. So take it from me that it was an effective ad.”
“Glad to hear it.” Merrick took a photo of the Bellagio. “I got to flex my creative wings on that one. It’s been happening less frequently than I’d like, and you’re right—I do always try to slip in some little twist. But, well, businesses have been pulling back when it comes to taking risks. Lately, the majority of the time I’m running the same old campaigns, just using different locations and different models. Clients seem to be happy, though, so I guess that’s what matters most, right? They pay me.”
He didn’t sound very enthused, though.
“And the dissatisfied client—Moira Harper?” Ethan began tentatively. “Are you comfortable explaining that situation to me?” Usually, he would push for the info from a client. But Merrick wasn’t just any client.
“It’s nothing.” Merrick lowered the camera and studied the lens. “I can tell you because you won’t flap your lips. I actually settled with her a couple of months back. I didn’t want to do it because she was the one who was wrong, but she was becoming a real pain. Business was going to suffer. So, I sucked up my pride and paid her off. She hasn’t bothered me since.”
Ethan looked at him with bewilderment. “Then why did you hire us?” When Merrick fiddled with his camera, looking guilty, Ethan began to frown. “If you thought that I’d—”
“No,” Merrick cut him off firmly, meeting his gaze. “That’s not why. I had my chance with you and you turned me down. I accept that, even if I’ve been whining and testing the ice since I arrived at the airport. But that’s all in fun, Eath. Now that I’ve seen you and talked to you, I know my time has passed. I’m not here to try to win you back or change your mind. I’m not an a-hole.”
“Then why?”
“Don’t laugh,” Merrick muttered. He let his head roll back against the headrest. “I need you for moral support.”
Ethan asked himself if he’d heard correctly. “Moral support for what?”
“This potential job. The one I’m meeting the guy at the Plaza for.”
“Merr, you’ve never lacked for confidence. Stop pulling my leg.”
“I’m not. I’m serious. Okay, Moira may have screwed things up more than I want to admit to you. Or to anyone.”
Ethan was actually glad to hear that only because it gave him a reason to be here besides as an object of Merrick’s regrets.
“What has she done?” he asked, concerned.
“First off, you should know that there have been murmurs about a harassment claim made against me by one of the models.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “Who?”
“No one you’ve worked with. A kid in Chicago. One of the first models I worked with, as a matter of fact. I hooked him up and got him his first gigs. Now I’m paying the price for my kindness.” Merrick shook his head, looking regretful. “It’s a sad state of affairs. He’s a good kid, too.”
“Is he telling the truth?”
“We were both drunk. Who knows. But…you know me, Eath.” The eyes he turned on Ethan were beseeching and hopeful. “You know what I’m capable of.”
“Yeah.” Ethan did know. Though Merrick was a relentless flirt, he respected physical boundaries. “You said it’s only murmurs right now. Nothing official?”
“No, and it probably wouldn’t have become any kind of issue if it weren’t for Moira. She’s been talking into this kid’s ear, threatening to drive him to the police and file a report. If that happened I’d lose most if not all of my clients, not to mention the legal fallout.”
“But you said you paid her and she agreed to leave you alone.”
“That’s more like what I’m hoping. I haven’t heard from her in a while, so…” Merrick passed a hand over his face. When he lowered it, he finally looked his age. “I need this new gig. It’s a big account. It would help fill my coffers in case I need to hire a lawyer in the future.”
“I’m sorry to hear all this. You don’t deserve it.” Ethan believed that whole-heartedly. Merrick was someone who contributed to the industry, helping young models get their start. He was the opposite of a predator, as far as Ethan was concerned. “I’m happy to offer all the moral support you need. I’ve got your back, Merr. It’s the least I can do after the help you gave me in my own career.”
“Nah, I didn’t do so much.”
“You did. If it weren’t for a couple of those campaigns that you booked me on, I wouldn’t have gotten some of the others. I owe you.”
“No, Ethan, you don’t. You really don’t.”
Ethan reached across and laid his hand on the other man’s knee. “I do, and I’ll help you. I don’t abandon my friends.”
Merrick’s smile was wan. Tired. “I’m glad that we still are. Friends, that is.”
“Of course we are.”
Merrick nodded, looking relieved and regaining some of his youthful vigor. Ethan had never known the older man to be upset or stressed over anything, so it had been dismaying and a bit of a shock to see him so worried about Moira Harper’s threat and this upcoming client meeting.
“Do you feel good about what you can do for this client? Are you merely feeling shaky because of all that’s happening behind the scenes?” Ethan asked him.
“A little of both,” the other man admitted. “I’ll get my head on straight, especially now that I know I’ve got your support.”
“You’ve got this,” Ethan insisted. “You’re great at what you do and you’ve got a track record of success to prove it. Your company always does topnotch work. Someone would be a fool not to hire you.”
> “You’re a good friend,” Merrick mumbled, turning his eyes to the window again. “I do feel better. You’re right. This job is mine. It’s just a matter of this guy recognizing it. He can’t do better than me.”
Ethan sat back, feeling energized. It was imperative to him that Merrick win this job. He understood that part of his eagerness to see his friend succeed was because it would be a sort of sendoff, closure for the romantic relationship they’d once shared. Ethan could wave him on, content that he’d erased any possible feelings of hurt or rejection between them.
“Is there anything I could help you with?” he asked, thinking of the reservation at the steakhouse tonight but also of a booth at a nice bar afterwards, or maybe even show tickets if necessary. Max could get them nearly anything in town.
Across from him, Merrick smiled slightly, almost as if to himself. “I’m grateful you asked that, because as a matter of fact, there is something you can do for me.”
He explained what he wanted.
It wasn’t what Ethan had expected.
Chapter Six
Maxmillian leaned back in his chair and placed his hands in a casual position along the arm rests. In front of him, the conference call software completed the connection with Axelrod Randolph, who was currently in his offices in downtown San Francisco. The man’s grinning face appeared on Max’s monitor a second later.
“There’s my superstar,” the older man enthused, sitting forward.
Behind him, tall glass windows revealed the jagged skyline of the Bay Area. The skyscrapers glowed rose gold against a deepening indigo background as sunset fell over the city. It was after office hours for both men but, as leaders of industry, they didn’t adhere to convention when there was business to be conducted.
And in this case, clarifications that needed to be made.
“Glad you could make time, Maxmillian.”
“We agreed on weekly updates. More frequently if necessary.”
“Yes, well, after our last talk I came away with the impression that I’m not your favorite person right now. I wouldn’t have been surprised or upset had you requested to postpone this another week.”
“Business is business,” Max reminded the older man. “Holding a grudge against a major investor would be the highlight of folly.”
“Underscoring why I chose to throw in my lot with you.” Randolph nodded, looking slightly relieved, his only concession that he harbored any self-doubt. “I partnered with you because you’re a pro.”
“And because I’m a winner. Don’t forget that.”
Randolph smiled but it was lacking its previous wattage. “That’s right. You’re a winner.”
“A winner whom you don’t trust to get the job done without outside manipulation.”
Randolph chuckled and nodded almost to himself as though he’d been expecting the turn in this conversation. He stood up and momentarily disappeared from view before he reappeared walking up to the windows overlooking the city. Max had a clear view of his back as the man looked out, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers.
“I know you’re angry with me,” Randolph said. “But like you said, you’re a businessman and I’m a businessman. None of this has ever been personal. I was aiming for publicity. I may have gone about it the wrong way, being aggressive when I should have let this come out slowly. I made a mistake. I own up to that. We can move on from this. Yes?”
“No more publicity stunts without consulting me first. This remains my business.”
“Do you trust me, Maximilian?”
Max narrowed his eyes as he studied the back of Randolph’s head. “I trust that you believe in the potential financial rewards of investing in my company and that you’re confident you will walk away from this project a much wealthier man.”
“I am confident in those ways, yes. Do you know why? My confidence lies in more than the company and its books. Do you remember what you told me when I first broached the subject of investing?”
Max nodded, though the other man couldn’t see him with his back turned. “I told you I didn’t need you.”
“That you did. And I believe that remains true to this day.” Randolph turned and looked back at the monitor and the camera. “You don’t need me, and maybe right now you’re questioning whether you should call this whole thing off and give me the boot. Right now, you probably think I’m a wildcard who’s going to further damage your reputation. It’s that stubbornness to get things done your way that I like, believe it or not. I’m not here to carry your bags—which I know you never expected or wanted. I’m here to provide funds, and to pick up the slack where you need me to. We’re on the same page in that regard. I don’t want you to misunderstand my eagerness to help you as a need to take control. That’s not what this is about, Maxmillian. I can do you a lot of good, but only if you trust in my process.”
“You’ll have to excuse me, Axel, for saying that so far your process hasn’t benefited me in any way. Exposing my private secrets to the public without consulting me first doesn’t align with the actions of a supposed team member in whom I’m being cajoled to place my absolute trust.”
“Fair enough. I went overboard. I refuse to regret it, however, and neither should you. Some doors have never been opened in this industry. We just blew them off their hinges. I’m confident that we’ll soon see the positive impact of that bravery.”
“Bravery,” Max repeated with distaste. “I apologize. I wasn’t aware that it took courage on your part to expose me.”
“This isn’t the relationship with you that I wanted,” Randolph said with a heavy sigh. He left the window and returned to his seat in front of his computer. “I thought you would have cooled down by now, but that was selfish of me. Obviously, this is a sensitive subject and I’m not paying it the respect that it deserves. I apologize. Completely. Thoroughly. But as emotional as this subject is, don’t let it cloud your judgment about me as a business partner.”
Max relaxed his claw-like grip on the arm rests. He agreed with Randolph’s sentiment and was dismayed with himself for getting this worked up over what was essentially spilled milk.
“I’d like your word that you will make no further public or private comments about me personally.”
Randolph nodded. “Not without your go-ahead.”
Holding grudges was pointless and potentially damaging to the bottom line. Besides, enough time had passed that Max could divorce most of his emotions. “Then we can move on.”
“Before we get into more important topics, I did want to say one thing.”
Max forcibly relaxed his jaw, which had clamped tight. “Go on.”
“I see this—” Randolph motioned between himself and the monitor, “—as a mentor relationship. Do you agree?”
Reluctantly, Max nodded. His pride wanted to dispute the claim. Though Uncle Edgar had facilitated Max’s control of the company, for the most part Max had driven The Elite Poole Worldwide on his own. That meant something to him. That gave him value.
But only a fool would pass up mentorship from a successful entrepreneur and venture capitalist like Randolph. Pride would only stand in the way of achieving Max’s greatest dreams if he stubbornly held onto the notion that he alone could and should do everything.
“I look forward to your advisement,” he murmured. “I recognize that your experience covers far more territory than my own.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. Because as much fun as I get from ramping up a company’s trajectory, I find true fulfillment from guiding future superstars.” Randolph’s expression turned wistful. “I suppose it comes down to me not having any children. You can only own so many yachts and populate them with so many beautiful women. At the end of the day, after all the base jumping and private islands, you want to know that you did some good. I’m not talking about philanthropy, which I wholeheartedly endorse. I’m talking about making an impact on lives. On leaving impressions.”
Max studied Randolph with some surprise, though he
was careful to hide it. “You don’t believe that you’ve already created a legacy? Your name is everywhere.”
“Every mentorship is based on the unspoken acceptance that the mentor is molding their own mini-me. That’s the truth.”
Max smirked. “I will never be your mini-me, Axel.”
The other man chuckled. “No, I didn’t think you would be. And that was only the first term that came to mind. I’d like to sit back on my third favorite yacht and read about you crushing the competition and pat myself on the back, telling myself it was all due to me.” He held up a hand. “Delusional, I know. But old guys like me get off on believing we’re impacting the world and everyone in it, even vicariously. So when I hitched my wagon to The Elite Poole, I was laying out my business heart to you, Maxmillian. If you succeed, I succeed.”
“I’m flattered that you believe me worthy of your attention,” Max said, still concealing his amusement. “We will not, I’m sorry to say, attend any future father-son dances.”
Randolph gaped at him, then burst into laughter. “I deserved that. I did.” He fell back in his chair, grinning. “We’re going to make a good team, Maxmillian. I’ve been receiving some feelers that I’ll tell you about in a second. And Europe is waiting for us with her arms wide open.”
“That’s encouraging to hear.”
“Next time I’m in town, I’m taking you and your husband to the best restaurant Vegas has to offer. No Olive Garden this time.”
“But the breadsticks…”
“I know.” Randolph’s eyes glinted. “It’s going to be difficult to beat them, but we’ll try.”
“At the very least,” Max said, “we’ll be able to order a genuine bottle of champagne to toast The Elite Poole’s acquisition of the Coastal Indy account.”
Randolph’s smile dropped off his face. “What did you just say?”
One of the pure pleasures of business, Max thought to himself, was obtaining inside information and springing it on the unsuspecting.