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From:[emailprotected]
Sent: March 31, 2022; 9:09am
Re: I hope you like Italian food
Persistence is one of my finest features. You should remember this for down the line. And I’ve read your contract. It’s quite lengthy. Far too long for a man with a company to run to actually read.
Dinner, tomorrow. 7:00.
You bring the details. I will supply the entree.
-Liam
Liam Macklen
Persistent SOB
___________________
To:[emailprotected]
From:[emailprotected]
Sent: March 31, 2022; 9:14
Re: That better not be a metaphor.
Fine. Dinner. Send me the address.
-Ashlyn
___________________
***
Liam
I was tapping my fingers manically against my desk when Rose came puttering in. She tossed some dry cleaning up against the hook by the door then turned to me with one of her signature looks.
“You’ve been emailing the woman from Grove Communications again.”
No question. Just a statement. There would be more, I knew, so I just waited.
“She’s really lovely. Good manners. Smart as a whip too.”
I nodded slowly. “Yes, I agree. That doesn’t change how stupid the idea is though. But at this point, I’m willing to do just about anything.”
Rose collected a few folders off the edge of my desk, her eyes rolling ever so slightly. I wanted to smile because she never would’ve done that to my father when she worked for him. Whereas I just grinned at her, Dad would’ve raged. But then, I knew Dad and I managed people differently. And I was determined to stay that way.
“Are you going to do it, then?” Rose never sat still, and this conversation was no different. Her voice reaching me as she moved around the room, her fingers flying across my coffee pot, the sink, even the odd stack of college textbooks I’d hoarded in one corner.
“I want Dad off my back. It wouldn’t hurt to have a few more of those stuffy old shareholders on my side either.” I shifted in my chair. “I don’t know exactly what I’m getting into, but I’m sure I won’t like it.”
“You don’t like anything,” Rose threw over her shoulder as she walked toward the door.
“That’s why I need to meet with her sometime to chat about it.” I didn’t give her any more clues. I knew Rose had full access to my emails. She’d already read them, I was sure of it.
Rose slowed by the door. “Do you need me to make reservations? Italian, right?”
