Business as Usual

by Hughes, E.

  “Understood. There’s no sense in arguing or beating ourselves up about it. We made a mistake. Sue me for wanting to have some fun,” I shrugged. “Moving forward, this marriage will be nothing more than a contract, as intended from the start. I hope you understand.”

  Ethan looked astounded, then finally, an expression of acceptance appeared on his face. “Fine. We’ll play it your way,” he shrugged, nonchalant as ever.

  “Good. We’ll leave this embarrassing situation behind us and forget it ever happened. That being said, I’m gonna hit the shower... there’s room for two, if you’re interested,” I winked.

  “Thank you, but I think I’ll pass,” he answered, waving a hand dismissively.

  I turned on my heels and walked toward the bathroom. Then with a parting look over my shoulder, I dropped the sheet to the floor at my feet before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving a confused and sexually frustrated Ethan to his thoughts.

  Moments later, as I stood under the hot stream of water pouring out of the shower, I replayed my argument and short-lived tryst with Ethan in my head over and over again wondering why I had even gone there in the first place. Like a drunken sorority girl I’d thrown myself at him without bothering to think of the consequences. In one night, I managed to blur the carefully drawn line separating our business relationship and fake marriage. Why? He was everything I avoided when it came to men. I’d always been attracted to tall, handsome, working class guys who didn’t remind me of my extremely wealthy father. They made me feel safe…loved. Daniel didn’t have an agenda, unlike Ethan. So why was I so drawn to this man? Was it the fact that he was young and hot with a cool playboy devil-may-care persona? I was used to arrogant young men with money they neither earned nor deserved. I’d grown up with far too many self-entitled brats. But Ethan was different. The way he wore his masculinity like a badge…the smoldering intensity in his eyes. I’d seen him looking at me from afar many times in the past, his gaze protective and watchful…even a bit possessive, only I had yet to identify what those looks meant. The two of us being only the children of our parents, I thought of him as a big brother, because of the bond our fathers shared. But Ethan’s silent vigilance had been much more. A nagging feeling forced itself to the forefront of my thoughts. Was the business deal a necessary invention to bring the two of us together? If so, how long had our fathers conspired to make this possible?

  I quickly dismissed my suspicions, and stepped out of the shower. In this day and age an arranged marriage simply wasn’t possible. Especially when it came to a forward-thinking man like my father. On the other hand, this was the same guy who secretly longed for a son.

  I left the bathroom wearing only a bath towel and went to the bedroom, half expecting to see Ethan there. The comforter on the bed was in disarray, the only evidence that last night had ever happened. I draped my body in a hotel issued bathrobe, walked to the living room and looked around. The suite was empty and Ethan was gone. I walked to the bedroom again and checked the closet. His clothes were still there.

  A few minutes later the door opened and room service arrived with food I didn’t order. After a decadent spread had been laid out on the table, room service left and I sat down to eat. I was in the middle of pouring a cup of coffee and setting a croissant on my plate when the door open and Ethan finally walked in, wearing a jump suit and a pair of sneakers, his body covered in sweat. He quickly disappeared into the bedroom. A few minutes later I heard the shower.

  I grabbed the paper, which sat on the table and started reading the news. I found one of our wedding pictures in the business section with an announcement that we had been married.

  “Thirty two year-old Ethan Yu of AmeriAsia and Elizabeth Byron, daughter of Byron Energy oil tycoon Eugene Byron, were joined together in marriage…blah blah blah.”

  I snapped the paper closed wondering if Danny had already heard the news. Should I call and at least attempt to explain myself? Ethan walked in just as I was setting the paper on the table next to my plate. Dressed in dark slacks and a pale blue button down shirt, he leaned across the table, reaching over my head as he grabbed the orange juice and collapsed on the seat beside me as he drained the entire glass.

  “Did you see the wedding announcement in today’s paper?” I asked, skimming the front page.

  “Ah huh…”

  His hair was still very wet and his complexion pallid from strenuous exercise. I closed my robe, where it had fallen open like there was something to hide.

  “What time is our flight to Aruba?” I asked.

  I reached for a slice of fruit and Ethan reached for it at the same time, the side of his hand grazing mine. I withdrew from his touch like it burned and pushed away from the table.

  “I canceled our flight.”

  “Why?”

  “Your father told me you hated the beach. You should have said something.”

  “I didn’t think it mattered,” I shrugged.

  Wasn’t like anything else did…or like I had any say-so in the events concerning our wedding…

  “Of course it matters,” Ethan replied, a surprised look on his face. He spun his chair around and leaned towards me, gripping my shoulders with firm hands.

  “I know this marriage isn’t what you wanted, but I’ll do my best to make life as easy for you as possible. If you want something, just ask.”

  “I don’t need anything from you. I have my own money.”

  He gave me a dour look. “I’m not talking about money, Elizabeth. I’m talking about happiness. I’m sorry about what happened this morning. It won’t happen again.”

  “Oh, but I want it to,” I replied, smiling mischievously. “Speaking of favors, I think we both know what I want,” I teased.

  I bit my bottom lip and gave him my best ‘come hither’ look.

  “Then you should be prepared to accept everything that goes along with it.”

  Ethan released me then leaned back in his seat again, quickly changing the subject. “We should go to Paris. Your father said you’d like that.”

  “Thanks,” I replied somewhat sheepishly. “I would like that, actually. I haven’t been in years. I’ve been far too busy with work. The budget committee will be out to look at your designs today. I know we’re supposed to go on our bogus honeymoon, but there’s a bit of a time crunch.”

  “Where?’

  “I booked conference room L454. Why?”

  Ethan strolled across the living room and flipped his laptop open. “You mind if I sit in?”

  I studied his movements. I was really attracted to this man. He turned, piercing dark eyes peering quizzically into mine.

  “Negative. The meeting is only for the budget committee,” I answered, circling the sofa to meet him on the other side of the room. “I’ll go over it with you after we draft a preliminary budget proposal. You have nothing to worry about… I handpicked the committee personally. Your designs are beautiful, but…”

  I let my fingers slide across the back of the sofa, seductively.

  “We need to think about how much it will cost to implement.”

  “We’ll worry about that when you prove we can’t do it on a thirty million dollar budget,” Ethan said, cutting me off.

  I gave him a hopeless look.

  “I’ve seen your work, Ethan…it’s brilliant. It’s eccentric, it’s grand…some of the best architecture I’ve ever seen...it’s art. I was very very impressed. But I think our focus should be the interior. Like I said, we’ll go over the budget this afternoon and get back to you with estimated costs.”

  “You should have invited me to the meeting,” he said, pointing his finger. I need to be a part of the process.”

  “And you are!” I answered, sweetly. “You’re designing a multi-million dollar luxury hotel.”

  “I’m also a major investor. Or did you forget that? I need to know where my money is going. You work for me, not the other way around.”

  I slid my fingernails up his arm seductively. “Co
rrection. I work for my father.”

  Ethan caught my wrist before my hand crawled up his chest. We locked eyes, like bulls about to lock horns.

  Ethan vowed to resist a physical relationship if I didn’t agree to a real marriage. I wanted to see how long that was going to last. He parked his hands on my waist and pushed me away, eyes brimming with sexual heat. But I slid my fingers under his collar, slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and kissed him on the neck. He froze, breath catching in his throat.

  “We’ll go over the details on our so called honeymoon. When are we leaving?” I purred.

  “In two weeks,” he answered, fastening each button again. I watched as he slid fit arms into his jacket, my eyes drawn to the muscular swell of his chest. He started toward the door then turned back on his heels like he was forgetting something, and kissed me. It was only a peck on the lips, but a kiss nonetheless.

  Judging from the determined look in Ethan’s eyes, I had a feeling he wasn’t about to take no for answer on the meeting. So as soon as he left, I called my secretary and told her to cancel the meeting at the hotel and to book a conference room at the Concord Business Center. Ethan was more concerned with his designs than staying on budget. My job as head of finance was to keep costs under control. But after reading Ethan’s outline, and going over his blueprint for a six story 150,000 square feet building, there was no way we could build it without spending an obscene amount of money. I was going to budget the new Gold Dust Hotel down to the last nail, starting with its size, which I would slash from 150,000 square feet to 135,000 to get our budget down to 20 million dollars, where it belonged.

  With the blueprint unfurled and spread across the boardroom table two and half hours later, I made a box around the area we would cut from the design with a big red Sharpie. I passed the marker to Hirsch, a bald forty-four year old finance executive from our Atlantic City office. As I leaned over the table I couldn’t tell if he was cross-eyed or staring down my silk Chanel blouse. I flattened the fabric with my hands, smoothing wrinkles away from the soft crisscross designed top as I strutted across the room, sat on the edge of the table, crossing my legs, listening as the team debated budget concerns over coffee and bagels.

  Reports were passed to the end of the large Maplewood table where I collected them. Diane, a bright but serious young woman in her late twenties had ascended the ranks of the company quickly, her strict hard-working attitude making her a contender for upper management. Her style of dress was as austere as her personality, which made her well liked by everyone except her immediate peers. She spoke, but only when she needed to, so I was surprised when she gave me her report, and said,

  “I found a company in South America that could provide lumber for half the price listed on AmeriAsia’s budget proposal.”

  “Is that in your report?”

  “On page five,” Diane answered. “I made a few other suggestions as well.”

  “I’ll be sure to review and get back to you after I go over your assessment with Ethan. AmeriAsia’s cost submittal does seem a bit over-inflated,” I answered.

  “We could cut costs by several million if we hire non-union construction workers,” Hirsch offered.

  “That’s a great idea. Of course, we’re obligated for a number of reasons to hire union workers. But we’ll hire non-union whenever we can as often as we can to cut back on costs. As it stands, the current budget is so out of control, if we don’t scale back the project will go bankrupt before we break ground. I’d much prefer to spend the bulk of our funding on the hotel interior, where guests spend most of their time anyway. I have a contractor bidding at half the cost that AmeriAsia and Byron Industries is willing to pay. But again, I’ll need to run this by Ethan since he’s overseeing the project.”

  Gary, an attorney who had come from my father’s office uninvited the second he heard about the meeting, leaned across the table trying not to wrinkle his Armani business suit. I hated working with my father’s staff. Especially arrogant SOBs like Gary who believed I’d gotten my job at the Gold Dust through nepotism because life had apparently, been handed to me on a silver platter. No one knew how hard I worked to prove myself to my father or the fact that I would never be as valuable to him as a son.

  “You sure the changes to this proposal will go over well with Eugene? He told you to oversee the budget, not butcher it. Drawing up new contracts could take weeks.”

  “I apologize for making your life a little harder, but Eugene told me not to let our budget get out of control and that’s what I’m doing. Let me worry about what my father thinks. You’re not supposed to be here anyway,” I turned away, taking a deep frustrated breath before addressing the rest of the room.

  “Diane, I want an itemized breakdown on the cost of supplies, including the lumber supplier in South America in two weeks. Hirsch, you’ll give me an extensive report comparing union and non-union contractor fees. Look into whether or not it’s feasible to work through their buyer or supplier, I’ll also need to look at all of the bids that are coming in from local contractors.”

  This opened a floodgate of suggestions from Diane and Hirsch, with Gary glaring at his legal sized yellow notepad as he listened in, scribbling notes. Then he finally looked up, focusing his razor sharp grey eyes on the other side of the room. I had been so engrossed in the meeting I didn’t hear Ethan when he walked in. Gary stood, shaking Ethan’s hand as he approached the table looking over the sprawled out blueprint, a storm raging in his eyes. I gripped Ethan’s elbow and pulled him aside.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked in a hushed voice. “I told you the meeting was for the budget committee.”

  Ethan’s jaw tensed as he shirked out of my grasp. “I’m overseeing this project therefore I have a right to be here.”

  “Not today!” I snapped. “This is my meeting, and my staff. Let me do my job.”

  “And how about you let me do mine, which is managing you! I’m in charge of this blueprint, in case you forgot, I’m the one who designed it…”

  “All you seem to care about is showing off your your fancy structures. We don’t have the funds for a 150,000 square feet building, unless you plan on pulling the money out of your butt!”

  “You’re in charge of finance. If we don’t have the money, find some and get it done.”

  Ethan swiped the blueprint off of the table and rolled it back into a scroll, tying it with a band when he was done.

  “We’re not in China. You don’t snap your fingers and expect things to fall into place. We don’t construct buildings with structural problems or roads that collapse under their own weight either. We need a solid budget for the best materials money can buy. Help me help you.”

  I’d seen pictures of fallen apartment complexes, roads, and sidewalks in China on the internet. Ethan had been educated at some of the finest schools, and I had no doubt of the quality of his work. But the process moved slower in the States while buildings in China were knocked down and built anew overnight.

  “Exactly how much experience do you have building hotels? Much less, designing one?”

  “You read my corporate profile,” I snapped, lips clamping together tightly.

  Ethan loosened his tie as he around the table to my side of the room.

  “I think I know more about you than what’s in your public profile, Elizabeth,” he sneered, correcting my all-too-obvious slip. “Which is precisely, why I feel some oversight is needed… there are also codes and licensing to consider, which you know nothing about.”

  “I did my research. I know what I’m doing,” I shot back. “My father wouldn’t have hired me for the job if I didn’t.”

  “If you say so,” Ethan retorted, seating himself at the head of the boardroom table.

  I looked around the room at the faces staring back at us. Hirsch tapped his pencil on the table, glancing down at his notes as if wishing he were anywhere but the conference room while Gary looked toward the window, trying to mask the smirk plastered across his impish fa
ce.

  “Your father and I reviewed the bids and have already decided on the contractors and suppliers we prefer to use,” said Ethan, tersely. “I want an itemized rundown of the budget next week, Elizabeth. If we’re over budget, I’ll make a decision at that time as to whether changes are warranted or if there is additional money needed for the project. Until then, I expect an invitation to all project related meetings, any changes to the budget requiring my explicit written approval.”

  Even Diane looked mortified, her face turning a deep shade of red. Who would dare speak to Eugene Byron’s daughter like that? She turned her eyes away, looking down at her lap, as if praying the whole embarrassing debacle was over. Newlyweds weren’t supposed to act like this. Was it an affront to a man like Ethan for a woman to hold her ground in the boardroom? I suppose I was also a bitch for telling him the truth.

  As I sat for dinner with Hirsch later that night over burgers and a second round of beer, absently tracing my fingers across the red and white checkered table cloth, I wondered what Ethan was so angry about in the first place? I was just trying to do my job. Why do I feel so guilty?

  “You have to understand,” Hirsch was saying, “When it comes to women, powerful young men like Ethan have to be in control, especially in front of his peers. Imagine how he feels… beautiful new wife telling him his designs aren’t good enough.” Hirsch flicked ashes from his cigarette into a nearby ashtray.

  “Don’t you dare empathize with him,” I chided. “I told him the meeting was for the budget committee and he came anyway. He put himself in that situation. Would Ethan have a problem with my suggestions if I were a man? I’m never going to be one of those pathetic trophy wives. He needs to get over it.”

  I had a soft heart when it came to family, but I was a pit-bull in the boardroom. My record as VP of Executive Finance at the Gold Dust Hotel was unblemished and I planned to keep it that way.