Acquired Asset

by ZN Willett

  “Over my dead body!” Millicent shouted out, storming toward us before Thomas grabbed hold of her arm.

  “We can make that happen, dear,” Thomas chimed in.

  My dad walked up to us. “I said that I would rather die than see a Colby take over the family business. I may have to restate that.” He chuckled, and looked at Christopher seriously. “You’re not good enough for her.”

  “No, I’m not. But she keeps making me a better person. By the time we’re . . . eighty, I should be up to par.” They had stared at each other for a few seconds before my dad attempted a grin extending out his hand. I thought of Constance, and how different my dad was . . . it had to have been her.

  Thomas walked over and told Christopher how proud he was of him. Even though he wasn’t trying to hear it, Thomas knew but continued to give his son praise for making an excellent choice. He turned toward me. “Congratulations.”

  Reagan came over hugging us both. As everyone started to congratulate themselves—mostly thinking a bullet had been dodged—Christopher and I stood there, looking at each other before he said, “You haven’t answered.”

  The room went quiet. “Is this your way of distracting me from the fact that you became CEO?”

  “I told you I would be. Marry me?”

  “We barely know—”

  “Still scared?”

  “No! No, I’m not. Only thinking about all the marriages that don’t work.”

  He laughed. “You think we won’t work?”

  “I’ll bet on you two,” Evan said out of the blue.

  “Thanks, man.” Christopher nodded at him a bit surprised.

  “Quinn, Marry me?”

  “Marriage is not going to cover all the bases. If anything happens—”

  “It won’t.”

  “I’ll need a prenup that gives me half of the company.”

  “It’s done.”

  “Christopher!” Millicent detested.

  “It won’t matter; our children will run it when they frame us for embezzlement.” He looked over at his mother and winked. Millicent looked horrified, and you could see her head turning with ideas.

  “I’m keeping my name.”

  “Cordell-Colby.”

  “Colby-Cordell.”

  He leaned in inches from my face. “Is that a yes?”

  I looked into his confident eyes, and kissed him before I changed my mind. “Yes, I will marry you.”

  “Damn right you will.” We both laughed, as he wrapped his arms around me for another kiss.

  “What do you want Colby?”

  He walked into my office and straight to my desk. “Just came by to say hello, Mrs. Colby.”

  “That’s future Mrs. Colby, and I’m not sure if I want to share a name with the other Mrs. Colby.”

  “I’m surprised you wouldn’t want to taunt her with that fact?” He said, with a raised brow walking over to my chair as I stood up.

  “Huh,” I said before kissing him hello. “I never thought about that. Besides, I’m keeping my name.”

  “Whatever you want. But this,” he lifted my left hand and kissed my ring, “States that your ass is mine. Call yourself whatever you want. But we both know this ass,” he grabbed hold of it, “Will always belong to a Colby.”

  What was I supposed to say to that? The man was right.

  He squeezed it a few more times before helping himself to my bar. “Constance wanted to have a family dinner at the house tonight.”

  “She told me when I spoke to her earlier.”

  He turned, stopping his mixing, looking a bit surprised and pleased. “She helped me pick out your ring. She said to keep it simple. I decided to make it big and simple.”

  The stone was large, however it was the cut and clarity of the diamond that made it sparkle brilliantly. I sat back down at my desk as he walked toward the door sipping his drink. “I’ll swing by at seven to pick you up.”

  “By the way, your mother isn’t going to let go of that little comment in the boardroom.”

  “She’s already calling for an investigation, but we know it’s too late. Whatever she finds, the people who can uncover the truth won’t help her. The damage is already done. What she did to Reagan . . . it doesn’t matter. Besides, I couldn’t have her blaming her future daughter-in-law for her fall. What would Christmas dinners be like?” He snickered. I threw my stress ball at him as he shut the door behind him.

  “I thought Constance was doing something at the house?”

  “There has been a change in plans. Hope you don’t mind picking something up?”

  I was fine with whatever. It had been a busy and stressful day—week—month—and I was exhausted. The weight of everything from the last few months had been lifted and left me a pile of mush. I was still wrapping my head around the decision from the Board, and the shock of Christopher’s proposal. Even though I knew his plan the moment I saw the jewelry box, with all of those things combined . . . I needed a moment to breathe.

  Christopher and I pulled into a quaint little neighborhood outside the city. The streets were lined with large trees and surprisingly the little storefronts and homes had yard space. “Where are we?”

  He smiled telling me that we were almost there as he filled the time placing soft kisses everywhere. The driver pulled into a long driveway, with a fleur de lis crest that greeted you, and I could see water behind the old home. “I thought we were picking something up to take back?”

  “Nope, that was me keeping you from asking a hundred questions until we arrived.” I slapped his shoulder as he got out and opened my door. I stepped out onto a cobblestone pathway, and the doorman greeted us as he opened the door to an elegant restaurant. There were ten beautifully decorated tables in total—all uniquely different—and the place was completely empty. A man dressed in a fine tailored looking Italian suit walked over to us. “Christopher,” he said as they shook hands. “You must be the lucky bride to be?”

  I shook his hand, looking over at Christopher. “Quinn, nice to meet you . . .”

  “Quinn, welcome to my restaurant. My name is Armin. Whatever you need, my staff will handle. I promise you; tonight you will experience something magical. The chef has created something magnificent and special for this evening.”

  “Thank you for doing this,” Christopher said.

  “It’s no bother at all.”

  Christopher chuckled. “I saw in the paper that it was.” He gave him an eye.

  “Ignore him, Quinn. Those patrons understood. Besides, if they want to make a ruckus again, I told each and every one of them that they would never be welcome here again.”

  “Well, thank you friend.”

  “Go, enjoy. Heidi will take you to your table.”

  The moment we sat down, four servers in unison placed down our glasses, poured the wine, and served the entrées while placing napkins on our laps. It was as if they were doing it all to music. The moment the song seemed to be over they disappeared as quickly as they had come.

  I looked at Christopher amazed. “This is Armin’s. As in thee Armin’s?”

  “Yes,” he answered sipping the red wine.

  “Who . . . no, most importantly, how did you get him to close his restaurant for us?”

  Armin’s was one of the premier restaurants in New York City. It was one of the few restaurants outside of the city that had reservations two years ahead of time. The place was well-known throughout the world. Celebrities, politicians, foreign dignitaries and presidents had all eaten there. Many were turned away. I heard that even the President of the United States had trouble getting in for his wife’s birthday. It had been all over the news.

  “I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

  I balked at him. “You sold our firstborn?”

  He chuckled. “Almost.”

  “Christopher . . . you shouldn’t have . . .”

  “You said yes.” Was all he said.

  I got up and sat on his leg, wrapping my arms around h
is neck. “I would have always said yes.”

  He smiled before lifting me back up, bending to one knee, and taking my hand in his.

  “Quinn Cordell. The moment I saw you, you took my breath away. And again when you stood in front of me and said that you loved me. But when you said yes . . . I stopped breathing. My heart belongs to you. It will always belong only to you. You made me the happiest man today, and I want you to know that I am committed to us. Always have been. Always will be. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I bent down as he stood up and we held each other. “That was . . . surprising . . . and perfect,” I said, before placing a kiss on those sweet lips. “I’m . . .” I felt a rush of emotions and couldn’t find the right words. He moved a strand of hair from out of my eye; we stood there, staring into the other’s eyes as I tried to convey all that I was feeling through them. We stayed that way for a while, as tears rolled down my checks while he rubbed my back. “I love you so much.”

  He had a boyish grin, and said, “I love how you showed me how to love.”

  I gawked at his words, and attacked his mouth, overwhelmed by his honesty. The day had been exhausting, but being there with Christopher, revived me. We eventually sat back down and had the most incredible dinner. The service was spectacular, and the restaurant was a perfect day to end all days.

  That morning I woke up dreading the decision of who would be CEO; never imagining ending the day like that. I was about to begin a new chapter of my life, with a twist that I didn’t see coming. I was going to be Mrs. Christopher Colby . . .

  . . . Mrs. Quinn Cordell-Colby.

  Constance had informed me that my proposal was supposed to have been the night after the vote was decided. Either way, Christopher was determined. She was shocked that he did it in front of everyone, however I wasn’t. When he gets something in his head, he goes for it. What surprised her was that I said yes. I told her that I was still thinking about it; didn’t want to embarrass Christopher in front of everyone. Of course, he called me out on it. But I knew there was a moment he thought I was going to say no. It showed in his eyes. That fact I kept to myself. That’s how I always knew. My mother would say the eyes are the windows to a person’s soul. She was right.

  Constance congratulated us both, although you could feel the awkwardness when she congratulated Christopher on becoming CEO. It was awkward all around; we had avoided it up until then. You could tell she was proud of him, yet concerned for us. I asked if she had anything to do with my dad’s calm reaction. She said she mentioned it could happen and tried to hint, so that the blow wouldn’t be a total shock. She did say that he kept saying poor Christopher; he doesn’t know what he’s up against; and that was after the decision and proposal. We all laughed, but Christopher had a look in his eye. He knew.

  “Could we wait until after I make love to you before we fight?” he asked, taking off his shirt and pants.

  I crawled into bed. “I’m not going to fight with you.”

  “Ha!” Christopher shook his head chuckling. “Maybe we need to hash it out now before I hand my most prized possession over to you.”

  “I would never hurt something that provides me so much pleasure.” I joked.

  He looked even more nervous. “Quinn, don’t joke about my junk, sweetheart.”

  “If you call me sweetheart again, I will have to go against my word.” I hissed, narrowing my eyes.

  He sighed heavily. “How do you want to do this?”

  “Christopher today has been an overwhelming and draining day. I do not want to fight with you. A girl should be able to enjoy her fiancé for at least one happy night! Now, get those off and take me!” I ordered, pointing to his underwear.

  Christopher did as he was told, and for the first time in his life I was sure; though the concern in his eyes was evident, and showed even more so as he made love to me. The man worshiped every inch of my body until I fell asleep in a post orgasmic state.

  When the sun rose shedding light on the day to come, I knew then that it wasn’t going to work, and I knew he did too.

  The next week was filled with congratulations, and meeting after meeting preparing Christopher for his new role. With each passing day, I could feel it eating me up inside. I tried to present a good front, but everything around me felt as if it were closing in.

  The company was my mother and father’s dream, and for it to go to Christopher . . . the very person that tried to take it all away in the first place. . . .

  Each evening, I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but with each touch of the hands I yearned for so much, it all felt . . . wrong.

  His lips started caressing my collarbone as I sighed. “It’s not fair.”

  “Mmm, what’s not?” Christopher asked, pulling one of my buds in his mouth, as he shifted on the bed.

  I rubbed my thighs together as I answered. “Life.”

  He opened my robe farther exposing the other breast as his eyes flickered up to mine. “You have a pretty good one.” He plainly stated before playing with the other nub. He rolled it between his fingers, while my body hummed in satisfaction. I closed my eyes, focusing on the tips of his fingers. My hand grabbed hold of the back of his head as his tongue began to flick and his mouth started to gnaw.

  “They should have picked me,” I breathed out.

  Christopher lifted his head. Stopping all movement. “Maybe, but do we have to do this now?”

  I stared at him. “I can’t hand over a part of me and walk away.”

  “You’re not giving it up. You will always have a voice in what goes on.”

  I sat up. “That’s mighty kind of you, though I don’t want a voice. I should be making the decisions.”

  “But, I shouldn’t?” Christopher sat up beside me, as he focused ahead.

  I turned toward him. “I’m trying to accept this, however if the situation were reversed . . . you would be fighting me on everything.”

  With a hard expression he shifted to face me. “Everything, huh? We can’t have sex without you trying to take control?”

  My mouth fell open. “That isn’t true! What does that—?”

  “Is it so damn hard to let me lead?”

  “I said I would try!”

  “You’re doing a damn fine job of it!”

  I crawled out of bed and fastened my robe. “Don’t lay there and think you could have done it, asshole! If you had to be underneath me, you’d fight me every step of the way.”

  “I didn’t fight you last night, and you seemed to be in full control. As always!”

  He got out of bed putting back on his pajama pants. As he started to walk out of the bedroom I asked, “Where are you going?”

  “I need some air.” Then he left.

  I leered after him, pissed that we seemed to be getting nowhere, but more so upset with the fact that if I didn’t accept Christopher as CEO, it could be the one thing that we couldn’t get past. Still, if I were being honest with myself it was I that couldn’t get past it.

  As much as I tried, nothing I did was making any of it okay. No matter what I told myself, even though I loved Christopher, I felt that the wrong person had been picked for the job.

  It all became more apparent when I met with Porter the following week. I soon realized the man wasn’t just loyal to Millicent; he was loyal to his own kind.

  “Quinn, I know it must be hard for you to understand why we chose Christopher.” He leaned forward at his desk.

  “Because I was the better candidate?” I sat back in the chair across from him.

  “Christopher can deal with business cultures that feel more comfortable dealing with a . . . you know, someone who they can play golf with . . . take to the club . . .”

  “Because he’s a man?”

  His eyes widened. “No . . . well . . . you know several of our clients refused to deal with women when negotiating business.”

  I crossed my legs, sitting more comfortably and intrigued by how deep he was going to dig his hole. �
�That’s why we don’t have them as clients.”

  “Yes. But, we are an international company, and unfortunately . . .” He continued, in a condescending tone. “We do have to deal with them. We can’t pick and choose who we cater to.”

  “Yes, I think we can, and we do. I’m surprised. Do you really think that I’m going to be fine with your picking Christopher just because he’s a man?”

  He chuckled. Which pissed me off more. “Tsk, tsk. Such harsh words for your fiancé. Surely you think higher of him than that? Christopher was chosen on his own merits. His numbers have tripled, and he has the same growth as you.”

  “My market is smaller; those numbers are not exactly comparable. You know Porter; this little talk has made me realize that maybe the problem is narrow-minded thinking. Something we may need to get rid of.” I stared directly into his eyes.

  “Is that a threat, Ms. Cordell?”

  I thought about that for a moment. “Yes, I guess it is. Great practice for when I become a Colby.”

  “If, you become a Colby.”

  I laughed. “You won’t be around to find out.” I stood up, walking out before I added, “Always informative, Porter.”

  I saw him go into the elevator, and followed in after him. I had squeezed through before the doors closed. While everyone greeted me, I turned and said, “Can we talk?” Christopher’s schedule suddenly filled up after our little spat. Although he said he wasn’t avoiding me, he wasn’t making himself available either.

  “I should be done by eight.”

  I peered at him, and when the door opened I hit the button and ordered everyone out. “I need to speak to Mr. Colby. Thanks.” When the doors closed I turned to face him. “How long are you going to be mad at me?”

  “Who said I was angry?”

  “I know when you’re upset, Colby.”

  “I am not upset.”

  “Bull!” The door opened and two people gawked at us before debating to step in. They looked behind me at Christopher and stood in their place while the door shut. He hit the stop button, and the elevator came to a halt.