Power Play
Page 59
“Right now?” Robbie asks, tapping at his tablet. “Estimates put him at about one hundred and seven, give or take a couple of spots.”
Teresa presses. “If we can show how your deal will vault him up that list faster than our competitors . . . or even better—”
“Show how those deals will send him down the list,” I finish for her. “Of course, we can’t say they’ll lose money. That’s not true and everyone knows it . . . but if we can show how relative to the other Top-100, he won’t keep pace, we’ll have an angle.”
Teresa nods. “It has to be subtle. We can’t just attack Chase and Olivia directly, or we’ll risk turning off the whole board, including your father. But it can be done, with precision.”
“Good,” I reply, tapping the table. “Teresa, I want you to take Keith and start working on that angle. Do a cursory check on who the biggest movers on that list are and what they’re investing in so we can use that in our play. Get me a draft by the end of the day.”
Keith isn’t much for speaking up in these meetings, but I can always trust him to be listening and do what needs to be done. “On it, sir.”
“Okay then, everyone has their jobs. Get to it.”
The team breaks up, and I gesture to Teresa as she walks by. “Yes, Scott?”
“Teresa, regardless of how we pitch this to my father, I want it to be clear that this plan will position the company for total domination, now and later,” I comment, making Teresa smirk.
“You mean position you for total domination?”
“Isn’t that one and the same?” I ask, and she rolls her eyes, nodding before leaving. I spy Robbie, who’s hanging back, and lift my chin. “What’s up?”
“You got a minute?” he asks, waiting until the room’s cleared and the door closes before continuing. “Anything else you need? On the downlow, for the party?”
My head tilts, taking him in. “What do you mean? I think we’re solid. Or is there something you want to add?”
Robbie straightens his spine, seeming to brace himself for what he’s about to say. “Do you need a date, or are you bringing the bar girl?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Yes. I’m bringing Madison,” I say, emphasizing her name and taking offense at the dismissal of her as simply a ‘bar girl’. “Although that’s not really your business.”
He sighs. “Scott, look, man. This deal is important, a fucking pivotal moment in your career and we all know it. Are you sure you want some random chick of the week from a bar on your arm? That’s all I’m saying.”
My blood boils as I seethe, angrier at my best friend than I’ve ever been. “She’s not a random chick of the week. I fucking care about her—a lot. And you will never speak of her like that again.”
Robbie cringes at my harsh tone but doesn’t back down. “Fine, so she’s important. Hell, maybe she’s The One, but is this the time to test that? You’re not the only one with everything riding on this. The whole team needs this win, and its my job, the job you hired me for, I might add, to foresee any issues and handle them. That’s all I’m trying to do . . . protect you, protect the team, protect the company.”
I let the big inhale and exhale of breath I force into my lungs fill the room, silent as I stare Robbie down. “I get it, man. You’re coming from a good place, and I appreciate it. Truly, I do. And any other time, any other girl, you’d probably be right. But not this time, not this girl. She makes me feel . . .” I search for the word to describe how Madison makes my heart swell, my body hum, and my mind fire on all pistons. “She just makes me . . . feel. Does that make sense?”
Robbie grins, big and wide for a moment before a laugh bursts past his lips. “Son of a bitch. You’re fucking falling in love with her! Never thought I’d see the day. Well, shit. That does change things, doesn’t it?”
He nods, and I can see his mind at work. I can’t care what he’s thinking about, though, because his words are resonating through my mind. Love Madison? Do I? Is that what this is? I know she’s constantly on my mind, even as I work, which has always been my one true focus in life. And my body fucking burns hot with the need to claim her again and again. Being with her, inside her, feels like home. And I’m homesick every moment I’m away from her.
While I’m having an existential crisis of revelation, Robbie’s mind has been turning more productive circles. “All right, we can sell this. Settling down definitely makes you look more mature to the board, a plus considering you’re the baby of the family. They’ll take you more seriously, and by default, that’ll translate into taking your plan more seriously.”
I stop him. “Robbie, she’s not a ploy, not a pawn. She’s just . . . mine. And I want her there by my side.”
Robbie nods. “Of course, yeah, man. But whatever it means to you, to her, it also means something to the board. You handle your relationship. That’s all you, so don’t fuck it up. My job is to set the frame for the business side. Deal?”
I grin. “Deal. Thanks for looking out, Robbie. Really.”
He nods. “Holy fuck. Scott Danger in love. Will miracles never cease.” He pauses to laugh. “Actually, no, let’s keep those miracles rolling . . . at least until the board signs off on our proposal.”
He struts out, a man on a new mission, and I smile. The truth of the last few moments sinks in, filling me with unexpected happiness. Holy shit, I love Madison. I really do.
I’m still sitting at the head of table, smiling like a loon when a knock disturbs me. I look over, surprised to see Chase standing in the doorway.
“Hey, little brother. How’s the prep going?” he asks, coming over to sit down beside me at the table. The fact that I’m at the head of the table and he’s sitting to my right doesn’t escape me. In fact, it gives me a little jolt of victory even if it’s premature.
“Going well here. And you?” Our words are stilted, cautious as we don’t trust each other, never have and likely never will.
“Fine.” He looks out the window of the room, seeing Teresa talking animatedly as her assistant types along with her dictated words. Luckily, we can’t hear her. “You think your silver-tongued she-devil will deliver for your speech?”
He’s showing that he knows my team, knows their roles in my strategy, and likely the strengths and weaknesses in each of us, our proposal included. But I know his too.
“Chase, the numbers don’t lie. Your plan is good, no doubt about that.” He looks surprised at my admission, and quite honestly, I am too. But I continue, “But we can do better, be better. And trading on the fact that you’re the golden son only gets you so far and doesn’t serve the company. It makes you lazy, makes you take the easy, safe way. The board will see that. Their loyalty to Dad has limits.”
Chase nods. “I guess we’ll see about that, won’t we?” He’s quiet for a moment and then continues, barbs in his every word letting me know that maybe I hit a little too close to home for his comfort. “You think you’re this wunderkind, somehow above, or outside, all of Dad’s shit. But you’re not. None of us are. It’s his game, his boards, and his fucking rules, and if you don’t play by them, no amount of genius from your team of crackpots out there is going to put you at the head of that table upstairs.”
“And you think you should sit there instead?” I sneer.
“It doesn’t matter what I think, only what Dad thinks. And for that reason alone, I will sit there. I will lead this company. No matter what you do. You’re simply no threat because you don’t play his game. I do. You might think it’s weak, but I call it smart,” he says evenly.
Chapter 19
Madison
Daily Horoscope, October 17th
Libra - New stages and new opportunities abound. Be open to the possibilities.
“Dude, how spot-on is that? New opportunities abound and you’re going to this big, fancy dinner gala? Girl, your ‘scope is right. You’d better be open . . . for fucking business . . . in the bathroom, in the boardroom, in Scott’s office, and anywhere he’s down to g
et down. You feel me?” Tiff jokes as she reads my daily horoscope to me. She’s actually got a point this time. About the opportunity, not about the sex everywhere. Well, mostly not about the sex.
“You sure this is okay?” Tiffany asks as we pull up to Scott’s building. “I mean, he knows that I’m coming over to help you get ready, right?”
“Considering I refused his generous offer to schedule a spa day for me today, yeah . . . he knows you’re coming over,” I say with a smile.
Tiff looks at me, grinning widely. “I still say you should’ve taken him up on that. We can do makeup any ol’ time, but a spa day? Rare treat. Bet he would’ve let me go along too, stingy bitch.”
She’s teasing, but I know she probably would’ve loved a day of relaxation like that. It just didn’t feel right to take advantage of Scott that way though. I can get myself ready. Lord knows, I’ve got the makeup skills.
“Hey, talk to me,” Tiff says as we take the elevator up to the penthouse. “I at least need to know where his red room is.”
I appreciate that she can sense my nerves and is trying to keep things light. “Why, so you can try and steal something for your own use?” I joke, trying to let go of my tension, but it falls flat even to my own ears. “Sorry, I’m just . . . God, the thought of all those high-society types, all of them thinking I shouldn’t be there. It’s got me shittin’ bricks. Even worse, some of them are part of Scott’s family.”
“And?” Tiff asks, like this isn’t a super-important thing for Scott. To her, it’s just a night to get dressed up and see how the other half live, maybe make a few jokes about the high-falutin’ folks.
But it’s more to me. “Tiff, I’m just a simple girl who’s not used to these kinds of things. What if I end up embarrassing Scott?”
“Girl, you’ve got more common sense than most people,” Tiff says. “Scott wouldn’t be bringing you if he wasn’t confident you could handle it.”
“He tells me to just be myself, and everything will be fine,” I admit, and Tiff smirks knowingly.
“I’m sure they’ll find you refreshing and endearing,” she reassures me in a faux-hoity toity voice.
“Or depressing and offensive,” I say, still not sure but needing to let the nerves go in favor of getting ready. Maybe being all gussied up will make the swarm of bees in my belly settle into graceful butterflies?
The elevator dings, and the doors open to the small alcove that leads to Scott’s front door, a security measure only since his is the only door on this floor.
I open the door, and I wonder if I was this dumbstruck when I came the first time. Probably . . . maybe even more since he brought me here when the lights were perfect and right now, we’re just getting plain old mid-morning Bane from the big windows.
But Tiffany’s impressed. “Holy shit! Girl, I can see why you’ve practically dumped my ass! If I had this to sleep in every night, I wouldn’t come back to our raggedy ass apartment either. I’d have just sent you a text to box up all my shit and stick it by the door for the moving guy.”
“Oh, come on, I haven’t dumped you,” I whine, and Tiff raises a disbelieving eyebrow at me. “I haven’t.”
“I know . . . but shit, I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Imagine the muck bang I could have in that kitchen!” She giggles as she looks it over. “I’d have a million YouTube hits in a day!”
“Please don’t . . . and don’t say anything about that to Scott. He already thinks you’re weird.”
Tiff laughs. “He’s right. Now how much time do I have to poke around before we need to get started?”
I check my phone and see we’ve got a little bit of time. “Fifteen minutes, maybe?”
“Whoo-hoo!” Tiff cheers, scampering off. “Seriously, you’ve got like the best boyfriend ever, babe,” I hear her as her voice gets further away. “All he needs is a big Icelandic masseur named Magnus with a propensity for foot massages and I’d be set for-evah!”
Tiff runs around, oohing and ahhing over this and that. Her delight is contagious, and we’re giggling like school girls by the time we settle down for some serious beauty pampering.
We get masks on our faces, paraffin wax dips on our feet, and deep conditioner in our hair before plopping down on the cushy rug in Scott’s master bathroom to wait for the magic to happen.
Tiff looks around the room, her face more serious than her previous giddiness. “So, babe, this is all wildly impressive. But really . . . are you happy with Scott? Or is this just about the amenities?” Before I can answer, she holds up a staying palm toward me. “No judging either way. It’s just that he gave you a key to his penthouse, Madison. That sounds serious, and as your friend, I want to know where your head is so I can advise appropriately.”
“Well, things are admittedly moving pretty fast, but it’s been amazing. He’s . . . he’s great, and I feel better with him, more ‘me’, if that makes sense. For a while, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop because fairy tale shit like this can’t be real,” I say, looking around the bathroom at the jetted tub, huge shower, sparkling mirrors, and chandelier. Yeah, there’s a chandelier . . . in the bathroom. I shake my head at the craziness. “But the longer we go, the more I trust it, trust him. I’m still scared sometimes, but it’s a tiny sliver of fear. The rest of my heart is full, doing a happy dance of hallelujah!” I say, smiling and certain my eyes are dopey with little hearts surrounding them like a picture filter.
“Fuck, Madison. I’m so glad! Truly, nobody deserves happiness more than you, and double snaps that you found it with a guy like Scott. I would’ve felt horrible if you hadn’t given him a chance because of that stupid tattoo shit and had missed out on this,” she says, gesturing around the room but including me in the encompassing circle of this.
“No worries, Tiff. That seems like a lifetime ago. I’m not going to let that fake mumbo-jumbo affect Scott and me. Not anymore,” I tell her honestly.
“But I can still read your horoscope to you every morning, right? Even if you move in with Scott? It’s tradition, you know.”
“You’d better! I need your daily guidance to go about my day,” I tell her with a wink, both of us knowing that our daily ritual is more about our friendship than astrology.
* * *
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
Maybe it’s not the most elegant or gentlemanly thing that Scott’s ever said to me, but right now, standing by myself in the bedroom as he comes out from his walk-in closet in his tuxedo, it’s powerful and makes me want to cry.
I sent Tiff home early, mainly because I needed some time to get my head right. Tiff was an amazing help today, but her constant chirpiness was starting to frazzle my nerves as much as my own concerns, and I needed the time to make sure I’m ready for tonight.
Scott’s simple, honest words help me. “Thank you,” I reply with a blush. “I’m still scared to death, though.”
Scott sweeps me into his arms, turning me around in the sunset light before kissing me softly but deeply as he cups my neck and caresses my tongue with his own. “Don’t worry,” he says, giving me a cocky smirk, knowing he just knocked me off my equilibrium with just a kiss. His voice is calm, confident as he reassures me. “Everything will be fine.”
“Promise?”
Scott nods. “Princess, you’ll be noticed. You’re too beautiful not to be . . . but you’re going to charm and captivate everyone.” His compliments bolster me, at least enough to get out the door. “Now, let’s go. The car looks great after it’s detailed.”
I can’t really notice too much of a difference. I think Scott’s ride always looks amazing, but the inside does smell great, and as we drive over, it almost feels like I’m riding a horse, the rich smell of saddle oil giving me good vibes. “We use this same oil at the shelter.”
“Really?” Scott asks, surprised. “What for?”
“The leashes and collars. May got them for free but then had to pay the money on the oil to keep them in good condition.”
“Tell me again who’s going to be here,” I say, needing the names fresh in my head even though I’ve already memorized them.
Scott indulges me again. “My dad and my mom, my brother and sister, but you’ve got all of them pegged. The business folks to know are Neil Johnson from Lightspeed—that’s Chase’s proposal company. Kenny Mackleroy from AlphaSystems—that’s mine. And Winnifred Smith from—that’s Olivia’s company. All the rest of the people there will be executives and staff of Danger Enterprises, one of the three proposed companies, or a date, maybe a few city bigwigs. That’s it, my family and three company head honchos are all you have to remember. The rest is just regular mingling like you do on a Saturday night at Stella’s.”
I nod, feeling like the names are solid in the forefront of my brain, and give him a tight smile as we’re waved to the front of the line, pulling even with the red carpet. Scott jumps out, leaving the valet to handle the driver’s side and quickly coming around to my door. The flashes startle me as he opens the door to help me out, but I do my best to grasp his offered hand and then take his elbow. “See? Nothing to it,” Scott remarks quietly, just for me, as he gives another nod to a photographer. “Listen to them. They think you’re amazing. They don’t know the half of it. If they only knew that your pussy is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, they’d be amazed. But I’m not sharing. Your pussy is mine.”
The shock of Scott’s words hits my brain, and for a split second, I’m sure I look like a deer in the headlights, but then I laugh, which I’m sure was his goal all along. I hear a mad rush of clicks as photographers catch our interaction, my laughing smile and his cocky smirk.