Holding back a giggle, I shake my head. “I don’t. Let’s go.”
He swoops a hand toward my bedroom door. “Lead the way.”
Chapter 14
Barrett
Every head in the restaurant turns when Isabella Calvetti walks in.
At Atlas 22, all eyes were on her because she flipped the place upside down in an attempt to get away from me. Tonight, her beauty is putting her in the spotlight.
She’s headed in my direction in a little black dress that looks like it was custom made for her body. The woman is breathtaking and oblivious to how much attention she’s drawing.
Her hair is wind-whipped. It’s messy and her effort to tame it with a hand brushing through it is futile.
With rosy cheeks and brisk breaths, she takes unsteady steps through the crowded dining room.
As I glide to my feet, I suddenly realize what’s going on.
My assistant looks freshly fucked.
What the hell?
I thought this meeting with Ivan and I would cancel her plans, but it seems that she compensated by shifting her date to earlier in the evening.
As she nears our table, her gaze swings from my face to the back of Ivan’s head as he stands in anticipation of her arrival.
A glance over his shoulder brings a broad smile to her face. I get nothing when she looks at me again.
“Mr. Garent,” she says his name softly. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Isabella.” He scoops her into his arms with as much enthusiasm as Fred did, but Ivan is a happily married man, so the embrace is short and sweet.
“How are you?” Her forehead furrows. “How’s Duke?”
“We’re taking it day-by-day.” He reaches for the back of the chair between us. “Have a seat.”
She takes the invitation, carefully lowering herself into the wooden chair. Ivan and I do the same. I’m not offered anything but a view of the back of her head as she shifts so she’s facing Ivan.
“Good evening, Isabella,” I finally say.
“Hi.” The word leaves her lips without a glance in my direction or even an acknowledgment that I exist.
“You look lovely.” Ivan’s gaze is glued to her. “Did you have plans tonight? We didn’t step on anyone’s toes when we asked you to meet us, did we?”
“No toes were stepped on.” She settles back in her chair, giving me a perfect view of her profile. “I met a couple of people for a drink earlier.”
“Was Max one of them?” Ivan asks casually with a small grin.
Isabella’s face lights up. “Yes. You remember him?”
That sets Ivan’s head back with a burst of laughter. “Max is unforgettable. He was the life of the holiday party last year.”
I’ve never seen the senior Garent laugh like this. Whoever the hell this Max guy is, he’s earned his way into Ivan’s good graces.
“He had the very best time at the party.” Isabella shoots me a tepid look. “He loves Duke. He asked about him earlier.”
She knows how to score points with my boss.
Ivan cups Isabella’s hand in his. “You tell Max that my boy is doing his best and thank him for his concern.”
It was my duty to ask about Duke when I met Ivan here for dinner an hour ago. I dropped that ball because I was anxious to dive into our discussion about Duke’s latest passion project. He was set to sign on the dotted line to buy a bookstore in Brooklyn.
It’s a money pit and I’m here to convince Ivan of that with hard numbers. I’ve spent the past hour doing so. He was ready to pull the plug on the deal when my assistant walked in.
During our call this afternoon, Ivan mentioned that he’d be stopping by the office tomorrow morning to see Isabella before he heads to Boston. I suggested that he save the trip by having her meet us for dessert tonight.
I thought the bookstore deal would be in the grave by the time she sat down.
“I have a question for you, Isabella,” Ivan says as if he can read my mind. “It’s about an acquisition that Duke had his eye on.”
“Hold that thought,” I chime in when I notice the waitress approach. “Let’s get Isabella a drink first.”
“What would you like?” Ivan asks politely. “If my memory serves, your drink of choice at the holiday party was white wine.”
I’d suggest a cosmopolitan, but that would raise Ivan’s eyebrow. His stance on interoffice relationships is that they shouldn’t exist. I got that lecture in Chicago during my first year with the company. I took a colleague to bed. Ivan took us both to task for it.
I may have tried to derail Isabella’s plans tonight, but that was a momentary lapse of judgment. If she wants to hop in the sack with two men, who am I to throw a roadblock in her way? Obviously, she found her way around it tonight.
“A glass of cold water would be amazing.” She glances up at the waitress, giving her a wide smile. “I ran three blocks just now, and I’m so thirsty.”
“You ran three blocks?” Ivan questions, obviously surprised.
“Max and I met a friend for a drink at this bar that Max loves.” She lets out a laugh. “Max started telling stories about when we were kids and boom, I looked at my watch and it was five minutes to eight, so I ran here.”
The fact that she sprinted here explains her flushed cheeks and the tangle of hair around her face.
I hone in on Max because I’ve met Dale. “Max is an old friend?”
“They met when they were children,” Ivan says before my assistant has a chance to reply. “Max told me all about it at the holiday party. He’s like a brother to Isabella.”
Isabella glances over at me. “Max is my best friend.”
She took her best friend to meet Dale tonight. That seems like a step up the relationship ladder. Whatever’s going on between them is full throttle.
I swallow what’s left of my whiskey to tame the jealous knot in my gut.
“Back to business.” Ivan eyes me before he shifts his attention to Isabella. “Barrett and I were discussing the proposed acquisition of Rusten’s Reads. You’re up to speed on the company, aren’t you?”
“I’m at full speed.” She laughs. “I was there the other day, and last week, and…”
Ivan can’t contain a smile. “You were there?”
“At the store,” she clarifies. “I buy all my books there. I’ve been going there since I was a kid.”
Judging from the sales figures I’ve seen, I wouldn’t be shocked to discover that Isabella is their only customer. The business is bleeding money. It doesn’t need Garent Industries to take it over. It needs to call it a day and shut the doors for good.
“Do you view it as a worthwhile acquisition, Isabella?”
I expected he’d ask her opinion, but I have no idea how much value he’s going to put in that. Ivan is as frustrated with the current financial state of Garent as I am. I admit that I was mildly surprised that he upped her salary as much as he did, but I sense that he did that to keep her behind her desk.
Isabella’s adjusting to the fact that Duke is gone and I’m taking his place permanently. The extra money Ivan offered her is a guarantee that she’ll remain at her post.
“Honestly?” she asks, looking at me before she glances back to Ivan.
“Of course,” he answers without hesitation. “Give it to us straight. If you were in charge of the acquisition of Rusten’s Reads would it be a go or a no?”
She drops her gaze to the glass of water the waitress just placed in front of her. “It’s a special little shop with the best selection of used books, but…”
“But?” I interrupt. “But what, Isabella?”
She grabs hold of the water glass and brings it to her ruby red lips. She swallows a mouthful, her lipstick leaving behind an imprint on the glass.
It’s sexy as hell, but I shake away the thought of those crimson lips wrapped around my dick. I can’t go there. I won’t go there.
“If Garent Industries invested in it at this time, I
think it might lose its charm.” She looks at Ivan. “It needs a careful and committed hand to help it flourish. Duke had that. He saw the vision that Rusten and his wife, Misty, have for their store.”
I read Duke’s notes on his most recent acquisitions. He ran Garent with his heart. He’d pick up failing small businesses left and right just to keep their owners happy. It’s virtuous but reckless.
“Do you think with your help, Barrett can breathe new life into it?” Ivan leans closer to her. “Duke saw something in that bookstore. I don’t want to overlook any potential that’s hidden behind the low revenue.”
“Duke had some ideas for it including changing the name to something more whimsical that would fit the feel of the store.” She circles a fingertip on the table in front of her. “He had plans for book signings but not with well-known authors. Duke wanted to showcase up and comers. He even considered having an author in residence program at the bookstore and a community corner where the people who live in the neighborhood could gather and talk books.”
I watch the expression on Ivan’s face morph from stoic concern to joy.
Well, shit.
Duke and his penchant for saving the underdog are about to win this battle, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
Chapter 15
Bella
I pass on dessert when it’s offered. Ivan and Barrett do the same.
Both men are dressed in gray suits and blue ties. That’s where their similarities end. Barrett is on his second glass of whiskey since I arrived at the restaurant. Mr. Garent is nursing what looks like a vodka and tonic. I’m assuming that’s what it is since it’s the only drink he ever ordered when he’d join Duke and me for working lunches or dinners.
I miss those meetings. I miss Duke.
Talking about Rusten’s Reads brought a flood of memories to the surface. Duke was passionate about breathing life into the bookstore since he met the owners a few months ago.
Duke has given dozens of small businesses a second chance. If the owners could convince him that their dream was worth saving, he’d strike a deal to take them under Garent’s umbrella as a subsidiary.
The owners would continue to focus on day-to-day operations, and Duke would find ways to breathe new life into those struggling businesses. I’ve watched him succeed a few times since I became his assistant, but not all of those rags-to-riches stories ended with a happy ending.
Garent Industries is funding several ventures that won’t succeed. I have no doubt that Barrett will shut them down within the next few weeks.
Ivan touches the top of my hand with his finger. “Isabella, I’m leaving in the morning for Boston. I don’t expect to be back in New York for at least a couple of months.”
I manage a small smile. Being near his son is important to him, even if he can’t see Duke at the moment. The Garent family is as close as the Calvetti clan. I understand his need to leave New York City.
“I’ll be checking in with Barrett weekly,” he goes on, “I’ll call you as well. As soon as I’m able to see Duke, I’ll let him know that you’re thinking of him.”
He steals the words right out of my mouth. That’s the only message I want him to convey to my former boss. I’ve never dealt with addiction, so I don’t know firsthand what the Garents are facing, but I’ll do what I can to help.
“Thank you.” I pat his hand.
“We’ll hold down the fort,” Barrett chimes in. “I don’t want you to think about business while you’re in Boston, Ivan. I can handle anything that pops up.”
Ivan nods slowly. “That’s why you’re the CEO. I have faith in you, Barrett. I know that every decision you make will be for the good of Garent. I trust that you’ll only reach out if the matter is pressing.”
I glance at Barrett and the smug smile on his face. Ivan is handing him the keys to the Garent kingdom. Every decision going forward will be Barrett’s alone.
He may not say it aloud, but the look on Barrett’s face is easy to read. The Garent Industries that existed when Duke was the CEO is about to change forever.
***
I wave one final time as I watch Ivan round the corner and disappear out of view. He may live in Chicago, but he keeps an apartment a block from here in a pre-war building.
“I have a car.” Barrett points at a dark sedan parked next to the curb in front of the restaurant. A gray-haired driver sits at the ready behind the wheel. “We can drop you at your place.”
I firm my grasp on the clutch purse in my hand. “That’s wasteful.”
His lips curve into an almost grin. “What’s wasteful?”
I glance down the sidewalk toward the nearest subway stop. “Manhattan isn’t that big. You can get where you need to go by foot, or by subway.”
“The car is a perk of the job, Isabella.”
“It was a perk when Duke was CEO and he took the subway or walked to the office,” I point out.
“I’m not Duke.” He glares at me. “The sooner you accept that he’s no longer your boss, the better.”
I can’t fault him for speaking the truth. He’s not Duke. He’s nothing like Duke.
“How are you getting home?” He questions with a glance at the driver.
“I’m taking the subway,” I say proudly.
The sound of a chime lures his hand to the pocket of his suit jacket. He tugs out his phone. Without a word to me, his fingers fly over the screen.
“The subway is the easiest way to get around the city,” I continue my pitch for public transportation. “Once you get accustomed to it, it’s a breeze.”
He moves toward the car, tapping a knuckle on the passenger side window. The driver lowers the glass and mumbles something in a tone so low that I can’t make it out.
“I’ll get home on my own,” Barrett says. “I won’t need you again tonight.”
Home?
Curiosity peaks my interest. He only transferred here from the Chicago office days ago. How is it possible that he already has a home?
When he turns back to me, I blurt out the question that’s sitting on the tip of my tongue. “Where do you live?”
My question sparks something in him. I see a flash of satisfaction pass over his expression before his left brow peaks. “Why do you want to know where I live?”
I instantly regret asking the question. I scramble for an explanation that makes sense. “I…well…I was wondering whether you live within walking distance of the office. If you do, you’ll probably save a lot of time traveling on foot instead of in that car.”
He turns to watch the car as it pulls into traffic. “Because that’s what Duke did?”
There’s a bite of frustration in his tone. I know it irritates him when I mention Duke. I can use that to my advantage. It doesn’t hurt to know your boss’s weaknesses.
Pasting a fake smile on my face, I give him a curt nod. “Duke set a great example.”
“Until he didn’t,” he quips.
Anger swirls in my belly. Duke is a good person. He doesn’t need this jerk making rude comments behind his back.
My phone buzzes in my hand. I glance down at the incoming text message.
Dale: Did I tell you how beautiful you were tonight?
I look up to find Barrett gazing down at my phone. I cradle it against my chest. “Excuse me. This is private.”
“What do you call a man who has made it past the first few dates but he’s boring as hell?”
This riddle is hitting too close to home. I’ve seen Dale three times, counting when I met him at Atlas 22, but I still feel nothing. I won’t give Barrett the satisfaction of knowing that.
“I call him a great guy.”
He smirks. “So Dale is your first...”
“My first?” I bark out a nervous laugh. “Um, no. I’m not a virgin.”
“No.” Barrett chuckles. “I wasn’t asking that, Isabella. I sure as hell don’t want to know that.”
My cheeks heat with the flush of embarrassment. I look around
at the people passing us by. I envy all of them. They aren’t standing in the middle of the sidewalk fumbling their way through an awkward conversation with their boss.
“Dale is obviously not a one and done,” he says, glancing down at his phone when it chimes. “I take it he’s the first man who hasn’t fallen into that category in some time?”
What the hell?
Am I supposed to respond to that? I won’t. My personal life is not his business.
The buzz of my phone saves me from my internal debate over whether his question was rhetorical or not.
Dale: I’m still at the bar. If you’re up to it, we can end the night with one last drink.
“Interesting,” Barrett drawls.
I don’t need to look up to know that he’s caught a glimpse of Dale’s latest message. I have to start turning my back to him before I read my incoming texts.
“I’m leaving,” I announce, wondering if I should take Dale up on his offer or not.
“It seems we both have plans for one last drink before we call it a night.” He glances over my shoulder. “I’ll see you at the office in the morning.”
“I’ll set up a meeting for you with the owners of Rusten’s Reads for ten o’clock sharp.”
He studies my face. “What for? I’m still considering the acquisition.”
“It’s not your decision.” I point out with a tilt of my head. “Mr. Garent was clear about what he wants. It doesn’t matter if he’s in New York, Boston or London. His word is the last word.”
I don’t catch the curse that falls from his lips, but I do see the clench of his jaw. “I expect you to be at your desk at eight, Isabella. Goodnight.”
He brushes past me. Against my better judgment, I turn to watch him walk away. I get more than a clear view of his back. A blonde-haired woman wearing faded boyfriend jeans and a black blouse rushes toward him before he takes her in his arms.
Chapter 16
Ruthless Page 6