Boss Me Please

by Amy Brent

  Neither had Irving the attorney or Juliette the… hmm... what was is that Juliette did again?

  Stan seemed pleased with our progress and said we’d be flying back to Chicago on Friday. We’d readjourn at Goldman on Monday and take the week to prepare our findings to present to Wright the following Friday.

  “I think they’re very happy with our work,” Stan said smugly, as if the credit was his and his alone. “Let’s finish strong, people, and impress the hell out of them next week.”

  Tanner came to my door every night around ten. He’d slip inside the room, then slip inside me. We alternated between mad, passionate, almost-rough bouts of sex, and softer, gentler, slower, longer bouts of love making.

  I can’t say that I preferred one over the other.

  I loved it all: fast, slow, hard, soft, rough, tender...

  I was happy so long as Tanner was beside me.

  I was especially happy when he was inside me.

  Insert big smiley face…

  Friday morning I awoke to find Tanner sitting on the foot of the bed lacing his tennis shoes. He had left my room early every morning to sneak back to his suite to shower and change for the day.

  “Morning,” he said with a smile. He leaned over to give me a kiss.

  “Morning,” I sighed. I picked up my phone to check the time. “Damn, is it Friday already?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Are you flying back with us today?”

  “I’m afraid not,” he said, shaking his head. “Henry left a text early this morning. I have to fly to Atlanta for a few days to take care of some business, but I’ll be back in Chicago for our wrap up meeting next week. I’ll text you from the road. Don’t worry.”

  “I’ll miss you,” I said, trying not to sound like a whiny, clingy girl; which was exactly how I felt.

  “I’ll miss you, too,” he said with a sleepy smile. He leaned down and kissed me again. Just a little longer this time. A little deeper.

  Without another word, he crept from my room and left me wondering what our relationship was going to be like once we were back in Chicago.

  It was something we hadn’t talked about, but something that was always on my mind. I’m a girl, for petesake. That’s how we roll. I’d really like to know where I stood with Tanner, but I was hesitant to bring it up so quickly.

  Did he really like me?

  Or was this just an out of town fling?

  An extended one-night stand?

  Did we have a future together?

  Did I save myself for Mister Right or Mister Wrong?

  Did I sound like Lizzie Lohan in a shitty teenage chick-flick?

  Yes, the little voice in my head said.

  Yes, yes you do.

  I tossed my phone on the bed and rolled over to go back to sleep.

  I’d drive myself crazy with doubt and pity later.

  Tanner

  When I boarded the plane, Henry Costas was already sitting in his first-class seat on the commercial flight that would take us from Tucson to Atlanta. I had decided to leave the Gulfstream in Tucson for Candice and the Goldman team to fly home on.

  It never occurred to me that my undercover act of chivalry would raise any kind of suspicion with Henry.

  Obviously, I was wrong, because he was loaded for bear the moment I sat down.

  He leaned over to ask, “Tell me again why we’re not on the Gulfstream and the Goldman group isn’t flying back commercial?”

  I gave him a confused look. “You’re always on my ass about treating people more professionally and not acting like such a rich douchebag. I thought it was a nice gesture. I thought you’d be proud of me for putting others first.”

  Henry snorted a laugh. “Give me a break, Tanner. You just didn’t want your new girlfriend to have to fly back to Chicago in the back of a plane wedged between those two idiots, Bob and Irving. Very chivalrous of you, my boy. And very out of character.”

  I feigned ignorance. Badly. “What new girlfriend?”

  “Oh, for petesake, Tanner, the girl you’ve been screwing every night since we got to Tucson.” He crossed his legs and brushed a hand over his knee. “Honestly, I thought she was the one woman who wouldn’t fall for your tricks. I thought she was better than that.” He gave me a sideways glance. “Turns out, she was just another brick in the wall.”

  “What does that mean, Pink Floyd?”

  “It means that you’ve proven once again that you can get any woman in your bed. Bravo. At least it wasn’t an Anderson stock holder or a member of the executive committee. If you had to fuck someone I’m at least glad that it was a junior analyst from Goldman and not someone who actually matters.”

  I turned sideways in the seat to face him. “That’s not what this was.”

  “No? That’s what it looked like to me.”

  I ground my teeth for a moment. “Wait, how do you know I was with her every night? I was very careful not to… You had me followed?”

  Henry blew out a bored sigh and spread his hands. “I had you followed.”

  I felt my blood boil as I glanced around the cabin to see who might be witness to the fit I was about to pitch. The flight attendants were milling about as the last passengers got situated. Although I was fit to be tied on the inside, I forced myself to remain calm on the outside.

  “Why would you do that?” I quietly asked. “Have me followed?”

  He looked at me as if I’d asked a silly question. “You’re seriously asking me that?” He shook his head. “Tanner, I love you like a son, and I think you’re a brilliant guy, but if you spent as much time thinking with your brain as you do with your dick, Wright Enterprises would be a much larger company.”

  I blinked at him. I loved Henry like an uncle, but I didn’t much like him at the moment.

  “Maybe you think the company would be better off with you in the CEO chair,” I said. “Someone who thinks with their brain because their dick no longer works.”

  “This is not about me replacing you, Tanner.”

  “Then what is it about, Henry?” I asked, louder than I should have. One of the flight attendants started toward me, but I waved her away.

  “You know what it’s about,” he said.

  “Let’s pretend I don’t. Tell me.”

  Henry tugged his reading glasses from inside his jacket and cleaned them on a handkerchief. He set the glasses on the tip of his nose and picked up the copy of The Wall Street Journal that had been lying in the seat beside him.

  “It’s about your inability to see what’s right in front of your face, my boy,” he said, lifting his chin to peer through the glasses as he scanned the front page of the paper. “Your desire to fuck and party and constantly be the bad boy is blinding you from what’s really important. As usual.”

  I blinked at him and resisted the urge to rip the goddamn paper from his hands. “What am I not seeing, Henry?”

  He looked at me from over the top of the reading glasses and sighed. “I’m just saying that if your girlfriend fucks up this acquisition for us, you have no one to blame but yourself. Now buckle up, son. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

  Candice

  I hate to admit it, but knowing that Tanner was now thousands of miles away brought a sense of clarity to my brain, which had taken a back seat to the rest of my organs as of late.

  It’s hard to focus on mountains of financial data when you’re picturing a guy munching on your rug, if you know what I mean.

  I spent the weekend reviewing my findings from the Tucson trip and compiling the data into a report that I’d present to Stan on Monday. Anderson’s fiber optic expansion plan was sound, albeit it a bit ambitious in the current market. It wasn’t something that would affect the deal, just something Wright Enterprises should keep in mind going forward.

  As I scanned over the costs associated with the expansion once more (I am a notorious triple-checker), my mind kept going back to the red flags I’d spotted on the older profit & loss reports the
first time I’d reviewed them.

  Part of the reason Anderson Telecommunications didn’t meet market estimates for revenue during those years was attributed to the cost of replacing older networks in the more rural areas the company served.

  If the numbers I saw were indeed correct, and Anderson lost money during those periods, the balance sheet that they were presenting today would be inaccurate.

  In fact, it could have been off by as much as a hundred million dollars. And if that was truly the case, the stock that Tanner would pay $31 per share for was worth more like $10 a share. If the SEC, the government, or a vested third party ever audited the older books, the discrepancies would come to light and Wright Enterprises’ stock could drop like a hot rock.

  I pulled up the old P&Ls again, the ones that Henry Costas said were incorrect. I chewed on my thumbnail and went through the numbers again and got the same result.

  The difference between what Anderson’s current balance sheet showed, and what the historical P&L’s showed, was too wide a gap to be missed by Tanner’s in-house people. Surely, they went back to investigate it.

  Maybe that’s when the P&L’s were updated and I just didn’t get a new copy.

  Either the numbers were wrong to begin with and were corrected after the mistake was found; or the numbers were correct in the first place and adjusted to show otherwise.

  One, was incompetency.

  Two, was highly illegal.

  I stared at the screen for a moment, then a thought hit me. I picked up my phone and found the contact information for Ruth Bennett, my personal financial advisor. I didn’t have much money for Ruth to manage yet, but she knew I would someday, with any luck. It was the Sunday afternoon, so I called Ruth’s home number.

  “Well hi, Candice,” Ruth said happily. When you manage other people’s money, you’re always happy for some reason. Even when they call you on a Sunday. “What can I do for you?”

  “Hey Ruth, I just had a quick question about the stock of a company I’m consulting with. I apologize for calling you on the weekend, but I just needed to pick your brain if you have a moment.”

  “Sure,” Ruth said. “What’s the company?”

  “There are actually two companies,” I said. “Wright Enterprises and Anderson Telecommunications.”

  Ruth put me on speakerphone. I could hear her typing. “Okay, Wright stock closed at $97 per share on Friday. The stock is trending up on the news that Wright is acquiring, ah, Anderson Telecommunications.”

  “And what about Anderson’s stock?” I asked. “I assume its ticking up in anticipation of the takeover.”

  She tapped on the computer keys. “It was up 2% of Friday at $29 per share. It looks like Wright is offering $31 a share, so the Anderson stock holders must be thrilled.”

  “I’m sure they are,” I said, resting my chin on my hand as I stared at the numbers on my screen. “Ruth, what would happen if Wright acquired Anderson, then some issue came to light that showed Anderson’s stock was not worth what Tanner, I mean, Wright, paid for it?”

  Ruth took me off speaker phone. Her voice was clear when she asked, “Why would you ask that question, Candice? Is Goldman consulting with Wright on the acquisition?”

  “I really can’t say anything more,” I said. “Just tell me, what would be the repercussions if something like that happened?”

  She sighed in my ear. “Well, if it comes to light that Wright overpaid for Anderson, both company stocks will plummet. The SEC and the state attorney general would launch an investigation and if anyone is found guilty of cooking the books or doing anything to falsely inflate the stock price, well, people could go to jail. At the very least, the fines could run into the hundreds of millions of dollars.”

  I felt the breath catch in my throat.

  “Candice? Are you there?”

  “Yes, sorry. Um, one last question. And this is completely hypothetical. Why would someone do that? Cook the books to inflate a stock price before an acquisition?”

  “There are a variety of reasons why someone might do that,” she said with an edge to her voice. “All highly illegal.”

  “Like?”

  “Like trying to make the deal look better than it really is. Or trying to make the company appear more sound than it really is. The best reason I can think of is if they were propping the company up so they could later knock it down. They would short both company stocks and when the stocks collapsed, they would make a fortune in the bargain.”

  I chewed at my bottom lip. “Forgive my ignorance, Ruth, but can you explain to me what you mean by ‘short both company stocks’?”

  “Basically, shorting a stock means that you are betting against the stock price going higher. You’re betting that it’s going to go lower in the future. You buy options called ‘puts’ that give you the right to purchase shares of stock at one price and sell it when the stock reaches a strike point. If you are shorting a stock, you option the stock when it’s at the higher price, and when the stock drops, you sell back the option and your profit is the difference.”

  “So, if someone shorted Wright’s stock at $97 per share, with a strike price of say $57…”

  “They would see a profit of $40 per share.” Ruth was quiet for a moment. “Candice, is there something going on that you’re not telling me?”

  “No, Ruth, of course not,” I said, hoping I sounded convincing. “I’m just on the team doing due diligence for the acquisition and I have to look at every angle. That’s all. Just running hypotheticals through my head.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear, dear,” she said with a sigh. I could tell by her tone that she was concerned that I was into something I shouldn’t be. She drove the point home by adding, “Because anyone involved in that kind of collusion and stock manipulation could go to jail.”

  “Thanks, Ruth,” I said. “That’s good to know.”

  Candice

  I spent the rest of Sunday finalizing my report for Monday’s wrap-up meeting with Stan and the rest of the Goldman team. The discrepancies in the old P&Ls kept nagging at my brain, but I managed to brush them aside long enough to finish the report.

  The report was all sunshine and unicorns.

  There was nothing there that would cause an issue with the acquisition going forward.

  The red flags had been lowered, now it was full speed ahead.

  I patted myself on the back for a job well done.

  The one thing I couldn’t brush aside was the fact that I missed Tanner terribly. I was amazed at how close I felt to him after our brief time in Tucson. I’m not saying that I’m in love, mind you. I’m just saying that he was constantly on my mind. I hoped that I was on his mind, too.

  We didn’t talk at all over the weekend, but I knew he was super busy in Atlanta. And the undefined status of our relationship prevented me from calling him every two minutes like I was dying to do. I didn’t want to frighten him away, but I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t want to hear from him either.

  It was the age-old single girl dilemma.

  Do I call him or wait until he calls me?

  But what if he doesn’t call me?

  What do I do, oh dating gods?

  What do I do?

  I decided that it was within modern dating etiquette to send a few short texts, adequately spaced out over the weekend so I wouldn’t sound too needy.

  His responses were short and to the point.

  Super busy.

  In meetings.

  With Henry.

  Getting lap dance from stripper …

  Getting blowjob in limo …

  Okay, I made those last two up, but sometimes that’s where my jealous imagination ventured. I forced those thoughts out of my head and focused on work.

  Tanner would call soon. I just knew it.

  I’d hear his voice and know everything was all right.

  I went to bed around midnight on Sunday with all my work done. The wrap-up meeting with the Goldman team was at ten th
e next morning.

  I was going to knock their socks off.

  * * *

  I dropped my purse and briefcase behind my desk, then pried the lid off the cup of black coffee from the shop downstairs and fired up my computer.

  Immediately, a message from Stan popped onto the screen.

  Please come to my office as soon as you arrive. Stan.

  I sipped the hot coffee and stared at the message for a moment. It wasn’t unusual to have inner-office messages waiting for me when I arrived, but this one popped up even before I was logged into the company network.

  I slowly lowered the cup to the desk and clicked the login button on the screen. My fingers trembled as I typed in my user name and password and hit Enter.

  I swallowed the lump that was in my throat as I read the words that flashed back at me from the screen.

  Account Restricted. Contact System Administrator.

  “What the fuck…” I typed in my user name and password again, pounding my fingers against the keys as if I thought that would do the trick. It was like hitting an elevator button over and over thinking it would get the elevator there faster.

  I held my breath and hit Enter.

  Account Restricted. Contact System Administrator.

  I slowly withdrew my hands from the keyboard.

  My fingers curled into my palms.

  My heart began to race.

  I struggled to keep the tears from welling in my eyes.

  I knew exactly what was happening.

  My god, how could I have been such a fool.

  * * *

  When I got to Stan’s office, his secretary escorted me to a conference room. She ushered me in and closed the door.

  Stan was sitting at the conference table with his hands folded neatly in front of him. He had a nervous look on his face. He motioned for me to sit across from the table from him.

  There was a sour-looking older lady sitting next to Stan.

  Next to her was serious-looking man with salt and pepper hair and a Brooks Brothers suit.

  I pegged them immediately.

  She was from human resources and he was from legal.

  They were all there to fuck me. And not in a good way.