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Leo shrugged. “I’ve met Zander Frolos a few times and he’s quite ambitious. But he lacks patience. He’d likely go for more money up front and I think Jes wants to get this deal done before too much internal arguing or issues arise.”
I nodded. Father-son issues could be a problem. Especially when money, egos, and power were involved. Best to keep this as quiet as possible.
“Besides,” Leo said, “if this information got out, you’re right about what would happen.”
“A bidding war,” I repeated.
“Exactly.”
“Savas Shipping could still take it. You have the backing, money, and reach.”
Leo smiled. It was so amazing it made me want to sigh. “Yes, but this is a new endeavor. This slip could provide a new route and expansion of the company as a whole, but I don’t want to sink a ton of money into something that isn’t foolproof.”
It was then I saw something on Leo’s face, something like caution. Was the bad boy not interested in risk unless it was calculated?
“Sometimes a big gamble can pay off, so long as you have the odds stacked in your favor,” I said.
Leo shook his head and something very dark, very serious crossed his face. “I’ve never been that lucky.”
I stuttered for a quick subject misdirection. Whatever Leo dealt with, felt, or lost was deep, and judging by the look on his face, I was stepping too close to a matter he didn’t want to discuss.
“Where is the slip located?”
“London.”
I nodded and pulled up a few screens on my tablet, ready to get back to business and ignore the tug in my chest that was urging me to touch Leo. To dig deeper into his life. To know him . . .
I shook my head. Business. Keep it surface.
“Your main ships are docked in Greece with regular trips to the port of New York.” I zoomed out on a map and looked at the distance of ocean from Greece to London to the US. “You said a new route would be involved. Do you have plans for that drawn up?”
He grinned and thank God he was back to a breezy attitude. “That’s where you come in. I have my team working on the logistics, including route proposals, input and output of goods, cost, and strategy. I want you to oversee this project, to make sure everything runs smoothly, and touch base with me regularly. I’ve already told several staff members that you are the woman to report to.”
My eyes widened. This was huge. He was basically making me a project manager, and the level of responsibility, as well as trust involved, was staggering. So much that it made the empty ache in my stomach feel less achy. Never mind that this was the kind of project that advanced employees to the next level. Or looked really good under the job-skills-and-experience part of a resume. But aside from everything running through my brain, only one thing came to mind to say. What I truly felt. Grateful.
“Thank you, Leo.” The words, especially his name, came out softer than I had intended. His face relaxed.
“For what, Red?”
For trusting me. Giving me a chance to prove myself. Allowing me to go beyond a gopher girl and actually be a part of something . . . a part of your world.
Instead I went with, “For the opportunity.”
He nodded once. “You’re welcome. You’ll be meeting with several people on a regular basis and the staff knows to keep you up to date on everything. But again, this is strictly in-house business. Only you and several select people know about this deal.”
“I understand.”
“Then why do you look worried?”
I took a deep breath. Usually my face didn’t give away my thoughts, but apparently Leo read me better than I’d anticipated.
“I’ve worked in politics for a while and it’s my experience that secrets are hard to keep. Especially the more people involved.” Which was why I was on constant edge with the scandal still brewing around the governor’s office and hoping to God I somehow could cheat the odds and keep my name out of the press.
As of now, reporters were onto the fact that I was part of Bill’s staff, and while a lot was being insinuated, no concrete proof was uncovered. Not that there would be since I never slept with Bill or touched the campaign money. But the funny thing about scandals was you didn’t necessarily need hard evidence. The pictures of Bill and me looked bad, and that would be enough to publish and start a whirlwind of doubt.
The entire thing would be orchestrated for ratings. I could see it now: Vorse’s Personal Assistant Caught with More Than Her Hand in the Cookie Jar. The press might be grasping at straws right now when it came to me, but the tipping point only grew closer with every day the story went on, and coverage was only growing. If and when they saw certain images or spoke to certain people, it could be game over for me. In every field. I took a deep breath. I couldn’t control that situation now.
“That is a good point,” Leo continued, “but everyone who knows about this has worked for me for years and this isn’t our first discretionary project. I’ve never had a problem in the past.” He looked at me for a long moment. “So I have no reason to assume there will be an issue now. Do I?”
