“We have about 30 percent of our original client base, operating income is virtually non-existent, everything we earn goes into keeping us afloat, so of course there are zero profits. I have been able to reduce our expenses by 60 percent, cutting expenditures for marketing, travel, my salary and the like, but with revenues so low, we are bleeding badly. Other than that, of course, things are just great,” she ended the sad saga with sarcastic bravado.
“That bad? I don’t think I had realized.”
“If we had stockholders we would have folded, But we are still a family business. If we did not have some clients locked into contracts for services it would be so much worse, Randall. We would have gone under for sure.”
“So, what do you hope to achieve? Where do you go from here?”
“Well, I have marketing strategies for repairing our damaged reputation. I feel confident that they would work in the long-run, but I am not sure I have long enough. We will lose almost half of our remaining customers this fall when their contracts expire and I need more time. At the end of the summer, I will have to cut at least 50 percent of the employees. Besides that, I cannot focus on running things and on a strategic marketing campaign like the one we need. I am spread too thin and so is the money.”
They discussed merging with another company, but Randall could see that Sloane was reluctant. He floated the idea of bringing in a new CEO, but Sloane balked at that idea as well. After skirting around the issue for another 15 minutes, Randall finally asked Sloane the real question he had wanted to ask from the beginning.
“Why not just close the doors Sloane? What are you holding onto at this point?”
“I can’t, Randall. I just can’t. People are counting on me. My father is counting on me. He will be expecting to come back to his company. I am the only one who can keep it up and running and waiting for his return. After all he has been through, how can I let him down?”
“Sloane, you need to be more realistic. Your father will be well into his 60’s when he returns. Moreover, your locked in customers and the fact that your father is absent are all that is keeping the doors open now. If your father returns to running the business, the trust you have with clients goes right out the window. You won’t renew existing business and you certainly won’t attract new clients.”
Sloane knew that Randall was right. She had known this was the problem for months, but he was the first person brave enough to just come out and say so.
“Randall, are you telling me that PPHP will invest if I am running things, but not if my father is?”
Randall looked at Sloane with sad eyes. “I am not saying PPHP will invest at all. But I do know they won’t invest in your father.” He watched as Sloane’s face fell and her eyes filled with tears. “Jeez, Sloane, I feel like I am kicking a puppy. This is not an easy conversation.”
Sloane pushed her shoulders back and sniffed a very unladylike sniffle. “Randall, I am tough, you said so yourself. I need the facts and the odds if I have any chance here, so just lay it out for me. Please.”
I hope that sounded believable cause right now I feel like a kicked puppy. Buck up, Sloane. Do not let this man make you beg. When all else is gone, you have to keep your pride and not let Daddy down.
“OK, in my opinion, your best bet is to close your doors and let me help you structure a severance package to help the employees transition if there is any money. Then between Wyatt, Alex, Tyler, Regan and I, we should be able to help you land a plum executive position somewhere.”
“A severance package would make things easier…”
“A good severance package. I work with a great firm that can shop around for a buyer first, spend a few months, and maybe arrange an acquisition before we have to announce anything? That would be a better solution for everyone.”
“I would need to discuss it with what is left of my executive team, of course, and my mother. There needs to be something left for her when this is done. And what about my father? He will be so disappointed.”
“Sloane I will help, anyway I can, but you cannot protect your father. Think of it this way, he didn’t protect you.”
“That’s not fair, Randall,” she said sharply. He softened the message but he repeated again that this was her father’s fault, not hers. The third time he reiterated it, the message finally sank in.
“Okay, assuming I let the company go, where do I get operating capital for the months we remain open. I have to fulfill the existing contracts or be in breach. Can you find me a few investors? Maybe there are some investors willing to consider a possible acquisition so they can make a quick profit, although that is pretty high-risk.”
“You think about all of this and let’s talk in, say, a week? Does that give you enough time? I can bring in Maria Canovalli to make discreet inquiries for a buyer in the meantime.”
They left the conversation and the table and agreed to walk down the grand staircase back to the lobby. Once there, Randall offered to walk Sloane to her office but she declined. Standing on the sidewalk, Sloane had no idea what else to say.
“I’ll have my assistant call you to set something up,” Randall suggested, taking Sloane’s hand lightly in his. “Okay?”
Sloane looked again at her long slim fingers in Randall’s large hand and suddenly thought of that car insurance ad. She felt like she was in ‘good hands’.
What was it about this man that was so reassuring? And so unnerving.
“Perfect. I will give this a lot of consideration, I promise.” Looking up into Randall’s face Sloane was surprised when it descended to hers and Randall gave her a butterfly of a kiss before releasing her mouth and her hand and walking away.
Had he turned around he would have seen Sloane standing frozen in place. Her fingers were lifted to her mouth, still burning from his soft kiss. Her thoughts were in a jumble as her heart did a major flip-flop.
I have no idea what just happened, but I do know this. That man is no buffoon.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was only three days later when Randall’s assistant called Sloane.
“Ms. Huyler? This is Amy Rodriguez, Mr. Parker’s assistant. I hope I have not caught you at an inconvenient time?”
“No, this is fine. You must be calling to set up a meeting.”
“Actually no. Would you hold please for Mr. Parker?” Before Sloane could answer, Amy hit the hold button and notified Randall that she had Sloane on the phone. He picked up instantly.
“Sloane? How are you?”
“Good Randall. You?”
“Fine, thanks. Okay, now that we have that over with.” Randall laughed.
Down boy. Relax.
“Are you calling about our next meeting?” Sloane queried. “Because you said you would give me a week. I still need a few more days before I will be ready to discuss things.”
“Well, yes and no.” Randall answered cryptically. The quiet on the line was deafening, but he was struggling to get the words out. “I am calling about our next meeting, but I thought perhaps it could be a bit more casual, like a date, not a meeting.”
There, that was not so bad, right?
“I am not sure I understand, Randall.”
Oh damn. Ok, just ask her, dip shit. Man up.
“I am asking you out on a date Sloane. Not for business. Just for the pleasure of your company. You and me, dinner, a movie maybe?”
“A date? A movie?” Sloane sounded confused, as if Randall were speaking a foreign language.
“Yeah a date. Why is that so hard for you to grasp?” Randall’s annoyance came through loud and clear. “Is it impossible for you to consider a date with me?”
Oh great. She thinks I am a joke. I should never have asked her out. Now she will politely refuse, making me look like a prize idiot.
“Randall, sorry. I was in a business mind-set when your assistant called. I was not expecting this. I did not mean to offend you.”
“No harm, no foul,” Randall said, licking his wounds. She still hadn
’t said yes and his confidence was waning.
“When?”
“What?”
“When? When did you have in mind?”
Randall felt like an imbecile. This conversation was not going as planned. He sounded like a pimply high-school freshman asking the homecoming queen for a date. Where was the smooth operator he had evoked when he called? He never had these problems talking to women.
“Saturday night, if that works for you?”
“This Saturday?”
Oh no. She is going to shoot me down. She has called you every name in the book, so what the hell did you expect?
“OK, sure. Saturday is fine.”
It took Randall a minute to realize that Sloane had actually accepted his invitation.
“Randall?”
“Perfect. Great,” Stop babbling, dummy. “Let’s keep it really casual, easy. I can pick you up around six?
“Six? So early?”
“Is that a problem? If that is a problem…”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Sloane interrupted. “You know where I live, right?”
“Yes, Sloane, I have dropped you off there a few times in my life,” Randall answered as if she was a child. “See you Saturday at six.”
“Thanks Randall.”
“No, Sloane, thank you. I am looking forward to it.” Randall realized as he hung up the phone that his hands were sweaty and shaking and his heart was pounding.
Uh oh. This woman is becoming way too important. You need to ratchet things back, my man. Ratchet things back.
CHAPTER NINE
The doorperson at Sloane’s condominium buzzed her promptly at 6:00 P.M to inform her that a gentleman was in the lobby. She struggled for a second before announcing that she would be right down. The apartment was spotless, and she could have invited him up, but she was ready to go, so why bother?
Be honest, Sloane. You’re not sure how you feel about being alone with this man. He leaves you all jittery. This is just you thinking ‘better safe than sorry’.
Admitting her attraction and deciding she had made the right decision, Sloane picked up her small purse and keys, locked the door and the deadbolt and pushed the button for the elevator. She checked her appearance in the mirrored doors while waiting for the car. She looked very tall and very thin. So thin that she hoped it was just distortion in the glass. Her hair was lustrous and thick down her back. Her cotton sundress was simple but sophisticated: the halter neckline created the illusion of more cleavage than she had, the shorter length gave her legs that went on forever. The light material was tight around her tiny waist and flared over her hips becomingly. She was wearing comfortable ballet flats and carrying a cardigan in case the air conditioning was too cold. It usually was, especially in movie theaters on these rare hot nights in spring. No one seemed to know how to handle these odd spikes in temperatures.
She emerged into the lobby from the elevator. When he saw her, Randall’s face split into a huge grin, his dimples carving deep grooves into his cheeks. His eyes were bright blue under his dark brows and against his faint tan and he looked like a movie star. His sunglasses dangled from the neckline of the polo shirt open at his throat. He wore a pair of designer jeans that showed off his muscular thighs and tight butt and well worn Nikes. His square chin was freshly shaven and his deep brown hair was windblown, falling across his forehead to make him look a little more boyish. His smile was dazzling. Sloane felt her fingers itching to touch him.
He crossed the lobby in two strides and gave her a surprising kiss. Surprising first because it was unexpected, second because she believed he found it unexpected too, like he had felt a sudden, compelling need. She felt the kiss move through her entire body, causing it to heat and respond. Sloane leaned into Randall, resting her breasts against his solid muscles and wrapping her arms around his waist.
The kiss was short at first, easy and sweet. But, when Randall sensed Sloane’s response, he dipped his head back to hers, his lips more coaxing and determined. Sloane felt Randall’s tongue probe the moist interior of her mouth, his tongue entwined with hers as his breath stole her own. His arms tightened around her, pulling her hard against him so that she felt his powerful body from shoulder to thigh. She felt fragile wrapped in his solid arms and she liked it. She could have stayed there forever, feeling the rush of blood through her veins as heat pooled in her center.
Randall must have felt the same, as he was in no rush to end the kiss, his arms around her, his hands resting lightly on her buttocks. He reluctantly pulled away from her only after they heard voices at the lobby doors.
“Hi,” he said shyly. He was adorable. “You look great.”
“Hi,” she was equally shy. “You look pretty good yourself.”
“Ready to go?”
The doorman gave them a leer as he held the door. They laughed about it harmoniously as Randall held the door of his BMW for Sloane to slide in. He placed a quick kiss on her lips, then straightened and closed the door.
Good thing I didn’t invite him up. I can just see where that would have led. I don’t know where this came from, but I like it. Oh yeah, I really like it.
Settling his large frame and long legs into the driver’s seat, Randall adjusted the rearview mirror imperceptibly and gave her another protracted look along with a cocky grin.
“I am so glad you said yes.” His dimples mesmerized her as his blue eyes lit with merriment.
“Me too. So, you haven’t told me where we are going.”
“Hope you like sports, cause I have Cubs tickets. Great tickets. Right over the home team dugout. They are playing the Cardinals so it should be a great game. Arietta is pitching.” Randall was into it, and Sloane could tell he was excited to have the tickets and to share the game with her. He sounded very proud of himself until he said anxiously, “You do like baseball, don’t you?”
Sloane laughed, toyed with idea of making him squirm but just blurted out, “I love baseball. How did you know? I am a Cubs fan too.”
They didn’t bother hunting for street parking; it had been taken for hours. Instead, they pulled into a nearby VIP lot, paid the exorbitant fee and joined the crowds swarming toward the gates. Sloane tied her sweater around the long handles of her bag then moved it cross-body for safety. Randall wrapped a protective arm around her as the crowds grew thicker, but soon they were inside and being shown to outstanding seats, right next to the section for the players’ wives.
Randall was joking and chatting with the wives and people all around him, relaxed in a way that Sloane had rarely seen him. Sure, when he was out with the guys or the hockey team he was like this, but then he got drunk and spoiled it all. She hoped she wouldn’t need to drive them home.
“I had no idea you were so social,” Sloane observed when they finally took their seats. They had already stopped to purchase hot dogs, peanuts, beer and a program. He was like an overgrown child, enthusiastic and over-stimulated.
“I’m not, but I know most of these people. They are clients or friends of clients. Most of the players are PPHP clients. You’ll get a chance to meet them between innings. That’s why we have these great seats. Wait until hockey season, I get killer tickets for hockey.”
Sloane was amazed by Randall. This was not the serious businessman she had lunched with days ago, nor the lecherous drunk she had fought off numerous times when she was with Wyatt. He was just fun, easy-going and excited about the game in a boyish way. He was full of child-like wonder. She liked him this way.
They set up the program so that she could keep score, juggling hotdogs, peanuts and then popcorn. He suggested more food and so they went for a walk to a nearby stand in the top of the fifth inning. They concluded it was a good time for a break. The Cubs were down three runs so it was hard to watch the Cardinals at bat.
Standing in line waiting for a slice of Giordano’s famous stuffed pizza, Randall told Sloane stories of coming to Wrigley Field as a kid. His whole family, including an uncle and a cousin, would often a
ttend a Sunday game. In addition, the four ‘Baldwins’ had cut school numerous times to watch games. He had her laughing with anecdotes about convincing Alex to cut school.
“He was such a dedicated student,” he explained, “that sometimes instead of us convincing Alex to go to the game, he convinced us to skip the game and attend calculus. We could never figure out how he did that.”
Sloane felt young and carefree; she had not laughed this much since her father’s arrest. Randall held her hand, smoothed her hair or gave her a quick peck on the cheek, finding ways to touch her throughout the night. It felt like the perfect first date.
They ate pepperoni pizza, and warm candied cashews, a pretzel and another beer.
“You had me completely fooled,” Randall confessed to her in the bottom of the seventh inning. “Based on the way you look, I thought you must not eat, but you can really pack it away. Oh, wait,” he stammered, “that didn’t come out right. I meant that as a compliment.”
“Well, it didn’t quite sound like one, but I will accept it as a compliment all the same. By the way, who said I am done eating?” They both laughed and then Randall swooped in and kissed her hard, almost bruising her mouth in his enthusiasm. She made a small sound so he backed away, looked deep into her eyes and then resumed the kiss more gently.
I could rip his clothes off right here. I never felt like this with Wyatt. This man can kiss! He is unbelievable - strong, sensible, funny and incredibly sexy. He is kind too, and he likes baseball and pizza. And me. And he is not even a little drunk. Holy crap, he might be perfect.
By the top of the ninth, the Cubs were ahead by one and the fans were going wild. The Cubs had brought in relief pitcher Adam Warren. It was three up, three down and the crowds cheered. Randall hugged Sloane, lifting her off her feet and twirling her carefully in the tight space. Then he kissed her and kissed her again. She kissed him back with enthusiasm.
Beholden (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 2) Page 8