He wanted one last crack at Blake.
He wanted Bailey.
Purely, dispassionately, impersonally. He wanted her because Heed needed her. She was as good a senior leader in the industry as they’d find anywhere. If he put aside his own feelings, there was no reason why they couldn’t fold Bailey Wyatt Events into Heed the same as they planned to fold in Energi and hopefully other smaller firms. They could make her a full partner. They didn’t have an event management arm, and Bailey could use the new Bitters credential, assuming they won it, to build one. But Blake dug his heels in. He mouthed off about a bunch of irrelevant issues, mostly to do with the workings of his own fat head, and nothing to do with Bailey at all.
He claimed she was a fantastic operator but not a leader. She was a problem solver but not a visionary. She was great with the details but not the big picture. Sometimes she was a pain in the neck. Sometimes she stuck her nose into things that didn’t concern her. She was stubborn. She was insistent. She didn’t take no for an answer.
They sat staring at each other over stale sandwiches leftover from a client meeting. Blake had a headache. He and Dom had been churning numbers till the early morning so he’d had very little sleep. It was probably a bad time to pick to go head-to-head with him, but they were running out of time.
“Bailey can turn her hand to any senior leadership task, and she has a specialty we can make into a commercial success, and a unique part of the business,” he said.
Blake sat in his big leather chair behind his big black glass desk and sulked, like Cody when Aiden told him he was too young to smoke. He told Blake exactly what he’d told Cody.
“It’ll stunt your growth.”
“If that’s some dig at my weight?”
Aiden ignored him and ploughed on. “We need her to help us grow. Do you think we’ll find anyone better? Do you think we can simply stop all those internal projects you had her on? That whole area of the business is only going to get more involved if we get the takeover up. And if we don’t, we need her skills to help build Heed as a stand-alone business.”
“She’s not right.”
“She’s perfect. There’s something wrong with you. Give me one good reason why she shouldn’t be with us in this?”
“I don’t want to split our share any further.”
“That’s really it?”
“Yup. We can hire someone more junior to take over her employee related stuff who won’t be in our faces everyday about doing something differently or better.”
Aiden smacked his forehead. Blake was being deliberately dense. He was going to give himself a headache. He waited till Cara, who was bringing Blake water and Panadol, left the room. He thought about catching her eye and asking for his own dose.
“Listen to yourself, that’s exactly what we need. You knew it when you hired her. What’s got into you now?”
“Nothing.”
“Code word for everything. You’re not going to roll over on this are you?”
Blake popped two tablets out of their foil wrapper and palmed them. “Nope. We’re done on this.” He flipped them into his mouth and took a gulp of water. Aiden waited for him to swallow so he could deliver his choke point.
“We’re not done. I’ll dilute my share for Bailey. You can keep yours intact.”
“What!” Blake landed the glass on the table with a cracking sound. “No. Why would you do that?”
“Because that’s your only solid objection to having her on board.”
“I don’t understand. I thought you and Bailey had a falling out.”
Aiden said firmly, “This is business,” and willed Blake not to probe.
“And you can be all business with her?”
Less was more. “Yep.”
Blake rubbed his eyes. “Fuck, you’re a better man than me. I’m scared to have her here full time.”
Finally we get to it. This is what Blake wouldn’t admit in all their other arguments. He looked up, eyes red rimmed. “I worry I feel too close to her.” He blinked at Aiden and frowned. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like that.”
“Don’t you have the same worry with me?
“Shit no.”
“Why not? You’ve just said you’re worried about having too close a friendship. Isn’t that us?”
“You don’t wear pants like she does.”
Aiden got to his feet. He thought Blake was struggling with the concept of hiring friends, but it was much deeper than that. “Blake! Of all the halfwit caveman logic. For God’s sake grow up. You’re the happiest married man on earth, why would you have trouble dealing with Bailey? You bloody well know she’s not in love with you.” He looked over his shoulder to see if Cara was at her desk. He needed Panadol, but when Blake said, “She’s not?” sounding like a bewildered fifteen year old, he changed his mind. He needed something with more kick.
“Jesus Christ you thought she was?”
“How do you know she’s not?” Blake’s tone shifted from whiney to stroppy, then his face did that thing when an internal light bulb goes on. It lit up with surprise. “Oh. Fuck. You and her? The glitter. But...”
Aiden came back to his seat, sat slowly, spoke quickly. “There’s no Bailey and me. It’s not going to happen. I can’t say it’s going to be easy having her here. I’m attracted to her. She’s something special, but I’m still not right in the head. I’m better off not wanting anything too serious, and Bailey’s not the kind of woman you screw around with, or take for second best.”
Blake’s head was back in his hands. “Fuck. I have to think about this.”
“Sure. But I’m not backing off. I want her on board. So does Dom. And if we don’t move on it soon, she’ll show us where to shove it.”
“She might. She knows we’re up to something.”
“No kidding. And you keep telling her to butt out.”
“Fuck, Aid.”
“Don’t go all gooey on me. We’ve got a mountain load of work to get done if we want this deal to hold up.”
37: Equal
Bailey had made a mini plunger pot of coffee and was about to settle in to finalise the new draft bonus scheme when Cara stuck her head in.
“Can you pop in and see Blake and Aiden?”
Blake yes, Aiden oh! She’d not spoken to him since the pitch, and they were still sweating on Tom, so she’d had no excuse to either. It’s not that they weren’t speaking. Not dodging each other like they’d once done. It’s only that they’d been working parallel and Aiden was buried deep in busy, and had been away interstate for much of the intervening time. Or so she told herself.
“Dom’s there too,” said Cara, which meant this probably wasn’t about Bitters. She picked up her plunger and cup and went next door. Aiden was leaning on the wall. Dom was in one of Blake’s visitor’s chairs. She took the other one.
There was an ominous silence as though they had something to say, but wanted to wait till she was seated comfortably. It was a creepy feeling. If she hadn’t spoken to Mum fifteen minutes ago she’d have been thinking dire thoughts.
“Yes, ok, I ate the strawberry yoghurt in the fridge. It was me. I’m sorry. I’ll pay. Please don’t kick me out.” That got a laugh, which was good because the three of them looked like someone stole their sun and moon. “What’s going on?”
Aiden came forward. He stood at the side of Blake’s desk. He looked tired, but he met her eyes, and he wasn’t giving off awkward vibes, so she knew it was going to be civil between them. His note already told her that, but it was good to look in his eyes and see it. She hoped with time, to get past the car park episode—they might be friends again. She went to sleep wondering what she could do to make sure friendship was the least they could achieve, though it was so much less than she wanted.
“We’d like to offer you a job?”
Not what she’d expected, though it beat all the disaster scenarios she’d started to scroll through. Starting with Aiden outing himself about the car park incident,
and ending in an asteroid plummeting to earth, and this being the last few minutes to live. She said, “Ok,” drawling out the word with caution not very cleverly disguised as suspicion.
“With us,” said Blake, as though that made anything clearer.
“I’ve already got a job with you, on contract. And I’ve agreed to stay to work on Bitters, if we win it.”
Aiden said, “We’re offering you a permanent job. And it’s not exactly a job—it’s a partnership.”
Perhaps this was a disaster scenario in disguise. “Sorry, I don’t get it.”
Aiden propped a hip on Blake’s desk, smiling as if to sympathise with her confusion. The last time she’d been this close to his smile, he’d been about to kiss her. She recognised the flipping about in her stomach as nerves. Blake and Dom were making her nervous for no good reason, and if Aiden kept looking at her like that he’d make her whole nervous system react with very good reason, with the memory of what his touch could do to her, make her almost willing to have sex with him in a public car park in the middle of the day. He was talking again and she fought to pay attention.
“When I came on board Blake changed the company structure. I’m an equal full partner. Then we bought Dom on, and now we want to bring you on.”
She looked from Aiden to Blake and then Dom. “Who’s we?”
Aiden said, “All three of us.”
She looked at Dom, he nodded. She looked back at Aiden.
“You come on as a full and equal partner. Bring your own business which you can either keep separate or fold in with us. Dom has a package of financial options for you to consider, but regardless of what you choose, you get equal voting rights with Blake, Dom and me.”
“You want this?”
“I do, very much.”
Blake leaned across and tapped her arm, making her break eye contact with Aiden. She’d been searching his face for a clue as to how he could shift so completely from a man who could make her hear bells when he kissed her, to telling her she was bad for him, to offering her a partnership.
“He fought for you, Bails,” Blake looked at Aiden with a wry expression. “Fought dirty.”
She turned to Blake. “Which means he had to fight you. Which means you didn’t want me.”
“Conclusions—jumping some there,” Blake said on a laugh, sounding like Yoda in pinstripes and making about as much sense.
“Really.” She eyeballed him. “Tell me you want this.”
He ducked his chin, stretching his neck. “I want this.”
Aiden groaned and pushed off the desk before she could react and by itself that was enough to tell her what she needed to know. She stood, focused to keep her voice steady. “Thank you, gentleman. I’m very happy with how things are at the moment.”
Aiden stepped towards her. “Bailey, you only have half the story.”
She met his eyes, narrowed with concern. “I have all I need. Blake had to be forced into this, and that means I’ll never be equal in his eyes.”
She heard Dom say, “What happened?” and Aiden call her name as she left the room. She’d made it to the doorway of her own office when Blake’s door slammed and she heard the rumble of Aiden’s voice. He spoke low so she couldn’t hear the words, but his intent was clear. He was unhappy and Blake was in the firing line.
She didn’t sit behind her desk, she waited.
For what? More betrayal?
That’s what it felt like. Blake took years of loyalty. He took her talent and attention and straight out devotion, and paid her back by holding her hostage to his limited view of her abilities. Worse than his lack of faith was that she’d always known that’s how he felt and she’d always forgiven him. Perhaps her own stupidity gave him justification. It was giving her something akin to adrenaline overload now. She was too mad to cry, too disappointed to have the energy for fury, and too filled with sadness to feel stupid. These complex and contrary emotions flooded through her body. They made her hands shake; they made her mouth taste like ash. She felt cold and disoriented.
There was no way to ransom her way out of this. This was it for her and Blake. She’d been so focused on the fact she might lose Aiden, when it was Blake she should’ve being paying attention to.
The surprise was Aiden had been her champion. Aiden, who’d said she was the worst possible thing for him, could see past his personal views, and treat her as a professional. There was the sting of humiliation from what Blake did, but what Aiden did left her oddly humbled.
She waited for Blake to come and try and talk his way around this. She wanted to be standing when he arrived. It wasn’t much of an edge, but it felt like more of a war footing, more courageous than retreating behind wood and steel.
She didn’t wait more than five minutes, all the while listening to the carefully contained muttering of deep male voices next door. At the two minute mark, Dom stuck his head in and gave her a half smile, half grimace that was all about demonstrating he understood. Part of her wanted Aiden, strictly professional Aiden, to come to her. Part of her wanted the other Aiden, slightly mad and out of control. At least both of them had wanted her, and at least one of them had fought for her.
And then Blake was there. As they both knew he would be. He kept his distance, weight against the doorjamb, huffed out a breath. She rested on the front of her desk, legs stretched in front, arms folded, smile free. As defensive a posture as she could think to present without donning actual weaponry, other than a shield of righteous indignation.
He didn’t shift from the doorway, as though he was wary she might attack him, as though he was waiting for permission to approach.
“You’re right to hate me. I deserve every hateful thought you’re having.”
It wasn’t how she’d expected him to open. She expected Blake in full salesman mode: impressing on her the value of the deal, the win-win, the ticket to ride, the reason she couldn’t afford to walk away, and would be cutting off her own nose to spite her face if she did. She expected the lecture. The one that asked her to examine her life for something better than he was offering. The one that had the air of rightness about it, but still managed to stink of Blake’s self interest.
“I can’t summon the interest to hate you. I guess I’ll work up to it.”
“I can help with that. I’m scum. I treat you as my courageous and clever sidekick. And I make sure you stay in the little boxes I create for you. I’m a manipulative bastard. I use that incredible loyalty you’ve always given me to screw you, so I get what I want. And I’m so fucking good at it I make it sound like it’s in your own best interest.”
Bailey inclined her head in assent. He was suddenly making it very easy to agree with him.
“So, it’s going to be impossible for me to prove my good intentions without insulting you again.”
“I think we’ve come about as far as you and I can go.”
Blake exhaled in a noisy burst, as though his lungs couldn’t handle the normal way of doing it. He came into the room and pulled Bailey’s visitor chair away from her desk. He sat, elbows on knees, face in his hands. It was office speak for kneeling at her feet.
“I suppose you want me to feel sorry for you?”
He jerked his head up. She saw genuine anguish in his eyes. “No. I’m only now coming to terms with how I’ve treated you over the years. It took Aid to show me. What I don’t understand is why you let me? You’ve always known.”
And there it was the crux of her stupidity, the fact they’d always danced around, made fun of, known but never talked about. The principle emotion that guided nearly all their interactions. But it was way too late for that. She lied.
“I have no idea.”
Blake shot to his feet as though he’d been hit with a shock of electricity, as though he’d been bitten by something deadly, and needed to move to clear away the toxin. He tore at his hair. “I don’t understand.”
Bailey lowered her eyes because watching Blake was too much like witnessing torture, she watc
hed his shiny shoes pace about. “Yes, you do.”
He turned on his heel to face her, said her name with such feeling that she had to look up again. “I’ve never let you grow up, because that would mean admitting you don’t need me. It’s all about my own fucking ego.”
This was harder than fighting with him; harder than walking away from him. He said, “Fuck,” in a voice ragged with emotion, and she knew he’d meant every word he’d said.
Her own voice shook; she was so close to tears. “I get so disappointed in you.”
Blake said, “I’ve been so disappointing,” and his despondency ground sandpaper into the back of her eyes and her throat. She blinked against the aching wetness and choked out, “That’s why this is a bad idea.”
“No.”
“You’ll never be able to treat me as an equal, and in the end it’s too hard to fight you.”
Blake was moving again. “That’s insane.”
She tracked his pacing. He carried one hand flattened against his chest as if to hold himself in check. She found herself mirroring him, one hand against her chest, the other knuckles white from gripping the edge of the desk. “That’s where we are. It’s like an abusive relationship. We like the way it hurts, then we rescue each other. We have to end it.”
“I can’t accept that. I won’t accept that. Not ever, Bailey.”
“What else can we do but call it quits?” She didn’t want to fight him anymore.
He stopped in front of her, close but not to threaten. “I can be better than this. I will be.” His voice was steady, it carried weariness for all the misunderstanding they’d brought to each other, and conviction he could change it. “We are better than this.”
It was too easy to want to believe him. Too easy to give in. But what was she holding out for? He’d slit his guts and rent his heart for her, and promised to try to change.
“We’d have an equal say?”
“With Aid to referee and you’ve seen how scrupulously just he is.”
Bailey shook her head. She needed time to think this through. Away from Blake. Away from the intensity of her emotions. She needed calm and quiet.
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