by Alexa Davis
“I can’t tell you now,” she says. “The moment’s passed. It was supposed to be this glorious thing and now you’ve ruined it by making me discipline you.”
“Just get off of me!” I grunt as I manage to roll my bodyweight enough that Naomi loses her balance and falls onto the bed next to me.
“Now what?” I ask.
“Oh, poor Max,” she says. “He kind of looks like a posh lion, don’t you think?”
I reach over and twist Naomi’s ear, saying, “What was it you wanted to tell me so bad?”
“Ow!” she says, swatting at my hand, but only succeeding in making it worse. “Okay, okay,” she says. “Let go and I’ll tell you.”
“I fell for that too many times when I was six,” I tell her. She’s so focused on protecting that ear, she leaves the other one wide open, so with my free hand, I latch onto that one.
“Fine!” she shouts. “It’s a ring!”
I release my sister from my kung-fu grip. “What?”
“Ellie,” she says, rubbing both her ears, “he bought you a ring.”
“Oh shut up,” I say and smack one of her hands covering an ear.
She pulls the hand away from her ear sharply and she’s moving her jaw around, saying, “That was horrible. Don’t do that to anyone ever.”
“Maybe he had thoughts, but you weren’t there for the last conversation,” I tell her.
“Well, then tell me about it,” she says. “Enlighten me.”
I wince. “I kind of only remember bits and pieces,” I admit. “That hot tub after the liquor was a bad idea.”
“Hey, at least you didn’t pee in there,” she says.
“That’s true,” I agree. “What I do remember, though, it wasn’t the kind of conversation you have when you’re about to pop the question.”
“Say whatever you want,” she says, resting her head on her hand. “He got you a ring.”
“Are you doing that thing where you lie to me just to see if I can tell?” I ask. “This really isn’t the time or the topic—”
“Yeah,” she says, “gotta level with you. I would have taken that course and everything, but then I realized I didn’t want to after all, so I just watched a few episodes of the show they made about it.”
“So you’re an admitted liar telling me to trust you?” I ask.
She jabs me in the ribs just to show me she can and says, “Don’t believe me then. The thing was freaking huge, though. You should have seen it.”
Chapter Twenty
Reality
Nick
The board room is empty, but it won’t be for long. I’ve called a meeting and we’re going to discuss the terms of my resignation as CEO of Stingray.
There just isn’t a point anymore. I’ve tried to change directions, tried announcing one of the more notable things we were saving for next spring—a cellphone that builds up a small backup charge with every step a person takes, rewarding them with extra off-the-charger time for physical activity—but everyone hailed it for exactly what it was: the last desperate attempt of a man who can’t let go.
Even if I could keep my job, the company’s not pulling out of this nosedive without something drastic. Maybe this will be seen as just another desperate attempt, maybe not. All I know is I’m not willing to see what feels like the only thing I have left go up because I’m not willing to give up control of it.
I’m going to be one of those guys all the late night guys talk about for a while, but lately, what else is new?
The door opens and the board starts filing in, one by one. I knew they were expecting this meeting sooner or later, but they could have done a better job hiding the fact.
“Come in and have a seat,” I tell them. “There’s only one item on the agenda, and I think we all know what it is.”
“We’ve done some new math,” Reeves says. “I think we can nearly double your legacy fee if you’re willing to step down now.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I say, raising a hand. “We’re doing bad enough without me grabbing a huge payout on my way out the door. I want two things and two things only,” I say.
“All right,” Reeves says. “We’re listening.”
“First,” I start, “I’ll transfer my stock in the company over to whomever replaces me, but I keep all my private holdings. I won’t screw the workers the way you’re going to, but I’m not going to be left humiliated and destitute.”
“What else?” Reeves asks, scratching his red chin in anticipation.
“Second, I know I can’t convince you not to move the company,” I say, “but we’re going to do right by all our employees. Everyone gets a fair severance and a recommendation.”
“Define ‘fair,’” Reeves says.
“They keep their benefits for one year after they’re laid off or until they find another job, and they get no less than sixty-percent of what they would have made over the same period,” I answer.
“That’s going to cost a lot of money we frankly can’t throw around right now,” Reeves says. “I don’t know if we can do that and keep the company afloat. After the expense of that building in Mulholland that’s never going to get used. You left us with a state-of-the-art office building in a place nobody wants to go.”
“You have my terms,” I say. “Take it or leave it, but I’m warning you: You leave it, and you’re going to spend the last days of this company trying to pry me out of my office because I will not leave my people with nothing. And make no mistake, they are my people. Either you meet my terms, or I’ll make sure each one of you goes down just as hard as I do.”
“Well,” Reeves says, almost tripping over himself sitting down, “I’m sure we can figure out something, but we’ll need to look into the numbers.”
“I had accounting look into it,” I tell him. “Malcolm will make sure you all get a copy of the full report. You’re right, Reeves, it is going to be expensive, but if we’re going to get through this with any sort of marketability—screw that,” I say. “It’s the right thing to do, and you all know it.”
“And will you be bankrolling any of this personally?” Verne, the smug do-nothing asks.
“We’ll talk about it if it comes to that,” I say, “but I’ve seen the numbers and it is doable.”
Reeves starts, “Are you saying you’re okay with the company moving to—”
“I’m not okay with it and I never will be,” I say. “But I’m not a fool. For a while, it looked like the company was going to rebound, but I’ve learned enough to know when something’s not working.”
The board talks amongst themselves and I just zone out. It’s a yes or no proposition, but they’re going to say yes. I’m giving them more than they wanted.
In a minute, one of them is going to figure out they can pay the worker’s pensions from the legacy money I won’t be taking and they’re going to run out of reasons to debate.
I had Marly and Malcolm both look into it. These eight who’ve been bemoaning the relatively insignificant cost of the headquarters in Mulholland were going to send me away with more money than I could ever spend—and I’ve developed some expensive tastes. A few years ago, I even had a satellite put into orbit so I’d have something interesting to look at when I’m in the bathroom.
Why? Because I could.
The board finally comes around to the right conclusion and Reeves tells me, “We’ll have to do some more checking, but what you’re proposing should be doable.”
“Great,” I say. “I already have the paperwork prepared.” I press the intercom button just below the table.
“Yes, Mr. Scipio?” Rochelle, the closest assistant I have to the board room, responds through the speaker.
I say, “Would you send Marly in, please?”
“Um, she says she wants to talk to you before she takes anything anywhere,” Rochelle says.
“I’m on my way,” I say and stand. “Well, gentleman, it looks like I’ll be bringing in the contract myself, just as soon as I fire
someone. I’d make your move on CEO pretty quick and make it good,” I tell the board. “You pick the wrong kind of evil to replace me and you’ll lose investors than you would with me still at the helm.”
I walk down the hall to Rochelle’s office. Marly is waiting outside and she’s reading through the papers.
“You’re fired,” I tell her.
“Yeah,” she says, “you tell me that so often, I just stopped believing it. Have you read these?”
“I wrote them,” I say. “Well, I had Malcolm help with the legalese, but yes, I’ve read them.”
“Are you out of your mind?” she asks. “You’re just going to give up after all this? Tell me this doesn’t have anything to do with that woman.”
“It has to do with the fact that I can’t save this company any more than I can save my own job,” I tell her. “They’re going to take it from me one way or another. At least this way, I get a chance to soften the blow a little.”
“You’re Saint Freaking Nikolai,” she says, “but this deal screws you.”
“Hey, I’ll still be a millionaire,” I tell her. “Maybe I’ll open the feed from ‘Seriously, They’re Letting Me Name My Own Satellite’—obviously a terrible mistake, granted—to the public. Sure, not everyone has digital floors, but I bet it would make a nice screensaver.”
“You know,” she says, “if you’re experiencing delusions, we can probably turn this whole thing around with the sympathy investment.”
I smile and chuckle. I even put my arm around Marly, who’s been such a good evil confidant over so many years. “There really isn’t a bottom for you, is there?” I ask.
“I just calls ‘em as I sees ‘em,” she says, cracking a smile. “You really want to do this?” she asks. “After this, you won’t have any sway over what the board or the next CEO does. You can probably lobby them, but they’re going to do what they’re going to do.”
“Without this deal, the people who helped build this company and keep it going get nothing,” I tell her. “I’m going to be rich the rest of my life. This is the least I can do.”
“Do you really want firing me to be your last act as CEO before you sign this thing?” she asks, her voice softening to a tone I’ve never heard before.
“I’ll hire you back, but I’m going to need a drink after this,” I tell her. “Have one waiting for me in my office when I get done.”
“Sure thing, boss,” she says and, though hesitant, she hands me the paperwork. “Do you want something easy to help you relax or do you want them carrying you out of here with your head in a bucket while you yell incoherently about the government?”
I cock my head at her.
“Mom was a drinker,” she says.
“I’d like to be able to walk, but apart from that, I say go crazy,” I answer.
Marly smiles and we part ways, possibly for the last time. We have a lot of history, but she’s not the type to call to grab a drink. She’s been with me and the company almost from the start and I don’t even know if she lives in the city or if she commutes.
This is a difficult decision, but I knew there was a possibility I’d have to make it eventually. I was just hoping that Jacque might actually deign to answer the door or the phone or call back for once in his life. He meant what he said, though. When he was done, he was done.
I walk into the board room and I have Mason Handler witness as I sign my portions of the document. From there, I slide it over to him and tell the board, “I’ll need the rest of the day to clear out my office.”
The sadists actually applaud as I leave the room.
When Marly asked if I was doing this because of Ellie, I didn’t lie, but I didn’t tell the whole truth, either. I’m not sure what the future holds for Ellie and me, but I do know if I’m ever going to find that sweet person again, I have to be done.
It’s true that the company’s going under if I stay in as CEO: The board and their proxies did a great job painting me as the culprit. I got the least that I wanted out of the deal, but at least it’s something. They never would have agreed if I’d pushed too hard to select my own replacement.
The truth is, though, this whole life I built, I built around her. I’ve come to appreciate and respect my people, but there’s no need for me to fight it. It probably wouldn’t change anything anyway.
I get in front of my office and Nolan stands, saying, “Sir, I just want to tell you, I heard what you did, and I wanted to thank you.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Hey, I’m going to be taking care of some final things in my office for a little while. Would you hold my calls and just make sure I’m not disturbed?”
“Of course, sir,” he says. “Sir, do you know what you’ll be doing after this?”
I chuckle. “I’ll probably live out my days watching CNBC and raving about how once, way back in the day, I used to run things,” I answer. “I think I’m done with the corporate world,” I tell him.
“One more thing,” he says as I’m opening the door to my office. “There’s someone in your office.”
I’m expecting Marly, either still fixing my drink or working on one of her own, but it’s not her.
Ellie’s sitting in my office chair, holding an overfilled tumbler of scotch, sipping just enough off the top that it doesn’t spill.
“Ellie,” I say, “What are you doing here?”
“Naomi told me,” she answers, smiling. “She told me about the ring.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Reality’s for Suckers
Ellie
My throat’s still burning a little from skimming off the top of Nick’s scotch, but it’s hardly taking my mind off of the gallon of adrenaline running through me.
“How does she know about the ring?” he asks.
“It’s Naomi,” I answer. “She doesn’t do well with personal boundaries. I don’t know when you bought it, or even if you were still planning on giving it to me someday, but it made me realize something.”
“What’s that?” he asks.
“First off, I’m nowhere near ready to marry you,” I say. “I mean, we’re talking not even a little bit.”
He forces a smile. “Thanks for coming all the way here to let me know that,” he says. “My day’s just getting better.”
“Calm down, testy,” I respond. “It also made me realize that this whole time I’ve been looking at you as the billionaire businessman. At first, I didn’t want to get involved with you because of it, and then I tried to bury myself in that world, but I never thought of you as just a guy.”
I hold out the scotch and he takes it from my hand.
“You may already know this, but I wasn’t asleep that night,” I tell him. “I didn’t remember you at first. You’ve changed so much.”
He takes a sip of his scotch and sets it on the desk. His voice is raspy as he says, “I didn’t know you were awake.”
“Here’s what I’d like to do,” I tell him. “I’d like to stop with all the back and forth. If we’re going to do this thing, we’re going to need to be in the same place. I know you’re still a little wary I’m going to go all socialite moron on you again. Maybe I will, who knows? Being with you is going to take some getting used to, there’s no doubt about that. When I realized I’m nowhere near ready to marry you, though, I also realized something else.”
“That is?” he asks.
“I’m ready to start down that path and see where it leads,” I tell him. “No more nonsense. No more thinking of you as the billionaire guy, but actually getting to know all of you, not just what I can read in the papers.”
“I’d like that,” he says.
“Can I see it, though?” I ask. “Not now, but whenever you’re done here for the day, can I take a look at it?” I know it’s silly and maybe a bit misleading, but I’m curious.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “You can see it. You know,” he says, walking around the desk to me, “I bought that when I made my first million. No, I didn’t expect you’d be ready for so
mething like that yet. The reality is, I’m not ready for it, either. We still have a lot to learn about each other,” he says and holds his hand out to me.
I take his hand and rise to my feet. “Yeah, like what happened with the glasses?” I ask. “Did you do the laser surgery thing or is there some kind of medication that’s only made available to the ridiculously wealthy?”
“You have a way of making me forget what I’m talking about, Ellie Michaels,” he says, kissing me on the cheek, then on the lips. He smiles. “It’s a problem.”
I snort with laughter.
“You know,” he says, looking back toward the office door, “my assistant’s already holding my calls.”
“Yeah?” I ask, kissing him.
“Appointments, too,” he says as I loosen his tie. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already set up the machine gun nest around the office. We have one of those, you know.”
“Yeah,” I tell him, “I’m back to where your rich guy stuff doesn’t impress me so much, Mr. Scipio.” I slide the tie the rest of the way off his neck.
“I like it when you call me that,” he says.
“Really?” I ask as I unbutton his shirt. “I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve said it since we met.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like it when you call me that,” he says. “What was it again?”
Slipping his suit jacket and shirt off of him together, I whisper in his ear, “Mr. Scipio.”
“Yeah,” he says, giving me a pat on the butt, “that was better the first time.”
I draw back and give him a playful slap to the chest, saying, “Well look who found their confidence after junior high.”
He smirks and says, “I didn’t say we couldn’t work on it.”
Nick reaches his arms around me and pulls me close, kissing me hard. I’m climbing onto the desk so I don’t lose my balance from the intensity of those full lips on mine.
He slips my blouse over my head and drops it off to the side as he kisses my neck. A moment later, I’m letting my bra fall from my shoulders.
My blood on fire, I reach between us and unfasten Nick’s belt. Unbuttoning his pants, I savor the feel of him through the fabric and I want him inside me now.