The innovation meeting went perfectly, solidifying key players onto my side of the court without them even realizing it.
Although it may seem silly that I have to work political angles to get common-sense initiatives passed, that’s just the boat I’m in. It’s impossible for me to get anything done around Icor Tech. If I have an idea I try to push, I’m seen as vain, trying to change a company that climbed to the top over the years with no good reason.
And it’s getting exhausting.
It’s the reason I was in the boardroom on Sunday. I was planning on going to the meeting and bringing up a couple ideas. When Remi came into the picture in her mismatched shoes and drool-stained shirt, she was the answer to my prayers.
Recognizing the ideas of an underling will get me much further than promoting my own, as crazy as it sounds. Half the board thinks I’m some kind of megalomaniac, the other half remembers me from when I was still in diapers. Remi stumbling in a day early allowed me to enact a few items on my lesser agenda, and if things continue to go well, I’ll be able to pass along some of my other ideas to her as well.
And it doesn’t hurt for the message to get delivered in such a pretty package.
I was up half the night thinking of her, and not in the way I should be. Her shapely legs played a starring role in my distraction. They really should have had hose on them, company policy, but I’m so glad they didn’t. Her eyes were another distraction. Her lashes are so long, I swear they reached the lenses of her glasses.
I pull up the video feed of her leaving my suite on Sunday. Somehow she managed to stumble walking from the elevator.
That’s how I knew I was in for trouble. When I replayed that scene no less than fifty times.
I exhale, defeated. Why couldn’t Remi have come in the form of an aging 40-year-old man? Why does she have to be so sexy, so smart, so—unattainable?
It must sound silly for any woman to be unattainable to me. After all, I am a billionaire. A handsome one, so I’m told. But my life comes with complications.
I take a picture of Sayo off my desk, a beautiful woman with the likeness of Gemma Chan. Her ruby red lips against her pale white flesh are striking. So dramatic. So exquisite. A true prize for any man.
Except, I’m the one that has to marry her, and well, she’s a lesbian.
I put the picture back, face down, trying to push all thoughts of nuptials from my mind to focus on business. Switching to Expressions is one of the smaller issues on my plate, and there are so many other initiates to pass. But I have a feeling that things are going to get a little easier, with how taken Tom is by Remi.
Like I said, pretty packaging.
So now I’m a pig, having sexy women present for me so I can get things passed. How the hell did I ever get into this mess? Oh, yeah, dear old dad.
Christian Icor, man’s man, and possibly one of the most incompetent people to hold a position of power. He lost us prestige, power, and pride—and most importantly—the trust of the Big 5. Winning it back is not easy.
Maxwell Icor surrounded himself with friends and people he could trust. He was the brains of the operation, but he’d often tell me that Icor Tech wouldn’t be what it is today without those five steadfast friends of his. Each member of the five lives in the Tower, as they always have, though before it had been at a different location.
At the start of Icor Tech, Maxwell rented out a stodgy building by the docks, converting the top levels into apartment buildings. He couldn’t pay the 5 well, so he allowed them to live rent-free. When Icor Tech moved across town, they came with and now reside near the top of the Tower.
The newer board members and many directors have suites as well, though none as nice and lavish as those that belong to ‘The Remaining 3’— Lindel, Cregor, and Barry. Now, Remi will reside in one of the suites as well.
I go back to mentally undressing Remi. Stripping her of her black shirt and helping her wiggle out of that sexy floral skirt—and then my phone rings.
Damnit! I think to myself, not wanting to abandon the image of Remi Stone’s legs splayed as she sits on my desk.
It’s mom—my dear, sweet, clueless mother.
My father had always surrounded himself with heiresses and supermodels. Scarlet Primrose, my mother, was akin to French royalty. At nearly sixty, she is still drop-dead gorgeous, and it isn’t just due to the botox and fillers she bombarded her face with nearly every other month, but I’m sure those do help.
I can’t bring myself to hit the answer button. I just can’t. It would break her heart if she knew I was avoiding her, and the smiles I force onto my face for her are getting harder and harder to fake—so I stay away, though it’s kind of hard considering we live in the same building.
She has no idea how much Icor Tech has been mismanaged. I remember the day I found out. It wasn’t long after my father died, and it wouldn’t be obvious to those looking casually at the numbers.
I saw we were losing accounts, and the money going out far exceeded industry standard. Basically, we’re a mess, but I’ve been fighting like hell to turn the tide.
And this brings me to why I’m marrying Sayo Nguyen. Her father is one of the wealthiest men in China, and one of the best allies I could have in my corner. He’s not going to want to see me fail, and my association with him alone with give Icor Tech a boost.
I bring up Remi’s picture from the Organizational Chart, newly moved from the Mechanical Engineering section to Directors.
Life can be so unfair at times. It may seem arrogant for me to say this, seeing as how I’ve never gone without a meal and a warm bed, but now, all I have to live for is this damn Tower. The entirety of my life will be stabilizing my company and coming home to a loveless marriage. At least one day I’ll have kids to look forward to. Here’s hoping they actually get a say in how they live their lives.
I turn on my computer, opening up my ‘5 Year Plan’ for how to turn the company around and create a document called the Bold Efficiency Plan, which is what I’ll attach Remi to.
I’m distracted, though. The reflection on the computer screen reminds me of the reflection on Remi’s glasses
And I realize, I really am hopeless.
CHAPTER 7
Remi Stone…is a virgin…
“Here we are, where you’ll be spending the majority of your time for the rest of your life,” Analise says as she walks through the large door frame into my new oversized office.
“This…is going to be mine? Like, only mine?”
“Yes, do you like it?”
I turn, staring at the walls adorned with decadent mahogany, shelves lined with books. A window takes up a whole wall, looking out over the city. This is an office executives dream of, and here I am, Remi Stone, about to occupy it.
“Is that a bathroom?” I say, looking into an adjoining room.
“Yep.”
“This is bigger than my apartment.”
“That’s not surprising. After all, this is New York City.”
“Who did this belong to before?” I ask.
“Cregor Leskey. He’s being moved downstairs.”
My face flushes red, and my jaw drops. I stare at Analise wide-eyed, a wave of numbness threatening to take me to my ever-faithful friend, the floor.
“God, you should have seen the fuss he pulled. His dentures fell out, right over there.” Analise points to a spot on the floor next to an oversized desk.
Cregor had been the rudest, most hateful person I’ve met in my short career. Not only did he refuse to glance at me, but he berated me in front of his peers. It was especially painful because I have looked up to him for so long. Because he’s one of the Big 5.
“They’re cleaning out his apartment upstairs right now, for when the movers come with your stuff.”
I move to sit down, dizzy, and more than a little afraid.
What is Cregor capable of? I mean, losing his office and his apartment to a woman he berated during a presentation is going to be a pretty big blo
w. And he’s old, which means he doesn’t have much to lose by way of time.
No! Cregor wouldn’t kill me. Stop being so silly.
“Oh my God, I didn’t expect you to believe all that,” Analise says, smirking, and I realized all at once that I’ve been had.
This isn’t at all unusual, me not realizing when someone is joking. I am the very definition of naive.
A snortle escapes my mouth, and soon I’m giggling so hard tears are welling in my eyes.
“If ya can’t laugh at yourself, you really shouldn’t be laughing at anyone else, I guess.”
“Oh, I’m not laughing at myself. I’m laughing at the image of old Cregor trying to poison my food or push me down a flight of stairs.”
Now, Analise is laughing too, bringing redness to her white, freckled cheeks.
“Cregor’s not so bad, I promise.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, sure.”
“Well, when you know him as well as I do…”
I look at Analise, stomach churning. Cregor is a rich man—richer than rich. Maxwell had been exceedingly generous with his board, and rich men were prone to marrying up attractive, younger women.
“Are you like…married to him or something?” I ask.
Analise’s eyes widened, her face a look of horror.
“No!” she shouts. “Heavens, no! He’s my father!”
I exhale, relieved but now regretting my every word.
“Just…don’t ever say anything like that ever again!”
“Fine, daughter of Satan. Your wish is my command.”
Analise is laughing, and through the chaos, I’m pretty sure I’ve made a friend of her.
“So, what do you do for fun?” Analise pulls a chair to face mine and takes a seat.
“Me? Fun? I…I contribute to a science YouTube channel.”
Her eyes widen. “So, are you some kind of internet celebrity?”
“Oh, no! Heavens no. I’m not even in the videos. I serve as a fact-checker.”
She purses her lips, clearly disappointed.
“Ummm…I also care for a 30lb. cat.”
Her face twists into a mortified grimace. “You look too young to be a crazy cat lady. Just how old are you?”
“You’d be surprised. They’ve been recruiting younger and younger servants these days. The greater the life expectancy, the more terror they can reign upon their human,” I reply. “But, to answer your question, I’m twenty-three.”
“Twenty-three? And up here? An executive office?”
“Yeah, I’m kind of a genius. And that’s not me bragging.”
“I’ll bet. So do you have a boyfriend?”
I snicker. There’s a touchy subject. I’ve always been curious about the dating world, but every time I try to dip my toes in, I find out the water is boiling.
“Yeah, I’m in between options too,” Analise says after I offer no reply.
“In between options?”
“Yep.”
“You make that sound so…lavish.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, but it’s not so bad. It allows me to focus on myself.”
“Have you had many…options that is?” I ask.
She rolls her big, blue eyes. “Many options, you say. Do you mean to ask if I’m a slut?”
Jesus, where did I learn to be so offensive?
She shrugs her shoulders. “Well, the answer is yeah. I probably am.”
“Oh,” I reply, not knowing what to take of her admission. I’m a little anxious just thinking about it, yet very interested. How does one ask about someone’s sex life without looking like a pervert?
“You?”
“Me? Oh, like…my options? Ummm, yeah. Wow.”
I’m stammering, reluctant to tell her that I’ve never once been with a man before. Never.
Analise eyes me critically. “Wow, that question really has you riled, doesn’t it?”
I look away and bare my confession. “Truth is, I’m really leaning into the whole cat lady vibe. It suits me.”
She’s quiet, and I glance over at her. She looks as though she’s doing a complex math problem, checking and rechecking her numbers. Finally, she scowls, then the muscles in her mouth relax, and I can tell she’s choosing her words carefully.
“You’re gunning for the white wedding dress, aren’t you?” Analise finally asks.
I nod, amused with the delicate way she asks if I’m a virgin.
“Is it a religion thing? Or a long-distance relationship?”
“It’s a man repellant thing.”
Analise bursts into laughter, looking almost like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.
“I’m not kidding. Men basically avoid me unless it’s to ask for my help on a project.”
“I seriously doubt you repel men.”
I feel suddenly stupid for revealing something so personal to a woman I barely know. How could Analise ever understand what it’s like to repel men? She’s gotta be nearly six-feet tall, with a perfect body, and apparently, she’s funny too.
“Oh, you’d be surprised.”
“What are you doing to meet them?”
“What am I doing?” I mulled over the question for a solid minute before saying, “I go shopping. I get coffee a couple times a week. I go to bookstores.”
“Oh my gosh!” Analise exclaims. “Calm down, woman! Ya really know how to party.”
She’s right. I’m the most boring person ever. Seriously. I don’t take risks. I go to bed by nine. I don’t go out drinking. I basically exist to go to work and come home and feed my dead granny’s cat.
“Have you ever tried Tinder?” Analise asks.
I arch a brow. “Isn’t that for—”
“Sluts?” she arches her own brow, and we laugh.
“I created a Match profile about two years back,” I confess.
Her eyes light up. “Let me see it!”
“I haven’t been on in over a year. I doubt it’s still up.”
She pulls out her phone, her thumbs a blur. “What’s your profile name?” she asks.
“S.T.E.M. Grrrl,” I say, and spell it out for her.
“Seriously,” she says, donning the most condescending look I think I may have ever seen on a woman before. Then she shouts, “Holy Mother of Jesus!”
“What is it?” I say, my heart pounding in my chest, wondering if someone has hacked my account and put up something raunchy.
“Do you really have a picture of yourself with an old lady as your profile pic?”
“Yeah, I mean, I liked my hair.”
“Oh, my god, this really is the most boring profile I’ve ever seen for someone. It’s like a damn parody account.”
The words sting a little, but they weren’t something I didn’t already know. I’m boring.
“Did you really put that you enjoy spending your evenings watching the damn Golden Girls?”
“It’s what I do!”
“Naw, it’s what ya did. I’m gonna tell you what you’re gonna do.” Analise leans back in her chair, crosses one leg over the other, and brings her hand up to rest her chin upon. “And it starts with a new wardrobe.”
My phone buzzes, I pull it out to see a message from an unknown phone number. Opening it, I see it’s from Tom.
Tom: Hey! Great presentation. Don’t let the other members of the board scared you. You’re going to do great.
Remi: Thank you. I really appreciate your assistance in the meeting.
Tom: No problem. So, I have a question for you.
Remi: Okay
Tom: Would you like to go to dinner with me sometime later in the week?
CHAPTER 8
Gabriel is in over his head…
“You really got yourself a brain, didn’t you?”
I look up from my computer, a little surprised to see Analise in the room staring at me. Her arms are crossed over the chest. She’s upset.
“I know some things, I suppose.”
“Oh, don’t you shrug it off. You know what I’m
talking about.”
I sit back in my chair, jaw clenched, trying to figure out why the hell she’s upset.
“You don’t like Remi, I take it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, something about her bugs you.”
Analise saunters around my desk, taking a seat next to the keyboard, looking down at me through her long, dramatic lashes.
“How well do you even know her?” she asks.
“Why does that matter?”
“Well, let me show you this.” Analise turns to my computer, bringing up a web browser. She types in a few keystrokes and brings up Match, the dating site.
“Looksie.”
I look at the screen at an awkwardly innocent Remi sitting next to an elderly woman holding crochet hooks.
“Jesus Christ, who the fuck puts up such a—”
“Someone who hasn’t so much as been on a date before, that’s who.”
I blink, then give a hearty chuckle. “Wait, are you saying—”
“That Remi Stone is a bonafide between the sheet vegetarian? Yes, I am.”
“Wait? What?”
“Get with the program, Gabe. It ain’t just meatless Mondays for this girl.”
I swallow, and to my horror, suddenly that sugary sweet picture with her dear sweet old grandma is leaving my pants tight.
“Won’t be for long, though.”
My stomach churns. “Boyfriend?”
“No, Tom.”
“She’s seeing Tom?”
“God, Gabe, how can you be so oblivious? Were we spying in on the same board meeting? Did you see how he greeted her? Did you see how he paraded her around the room like she was his damn arm candy?”
Oh shit!
I have a way of overlooking these things, especially when my mind is focused on saving Icor Tech. Tom has a reputation for being a ladies’ man, but it had always been an ‘off the clock’ sort of thing. Dating someone from the office is just plain stupid, and fucking them—is even dumber.
“Can we keep her?” Analise pouts.
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