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If I let him in, this man will upend my position, my life,my world. I can’t have that. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am.
Seems I don’t have to worry.
Royce ignores me and looks over my shoulder to address Mr. Brown.
“Where is the production manager?”
His deep voice, speaking in that drawn out way of his, makes my center pulse with each syllable.
Mr. Brown’s sunny disposition collapses into a pit of worry as a frown settles on his face. “Um, I’m sorry, sir. She’s out today. We expect her back on Monday. Ms. Turner can help you with whatever—“
“I’ll need them both to be present for what I have to say. In the meantime, Mrs.—“
Fury rises within me like boiling milk on a stove. My hands clench. In my mind I shout:Asshole! I’m not a ‘Mrs.’ Youknowthat.
“I’m aMs,Mr. Grayson.Ms.Turner.“ I smile like I ate a spoonful of sugar. Normally, I watch my carbs, but I’d devour a bag of pretzels right now to remove the memory of him from my mouth.
He continues to bypass me and address Mr. Brown. “Ms. Turner will wait until I finish my meetings for the day. She can then show me what her team is working on.” Royce brushes past me, heading for the door.
Mr. Brown throws me anI-don’t-know-what-just-happenedlook and trots after the big boss’s departing frame.
My legs can no longer hold me and I collapse in the nearest chair, placing my head in my hands.
You’re an idiot, Genesis.
Now that we’ve met,again, the adrenaline which coursed through me when I saw him by the window leaves in a rush. My body trembles as I get angry all over again.
Nerves of steel got me where I am today. I won’t let a man take me down. Not even one as hot as Royce Grayson. With his damn hazel eyes and that wild and wicked tongue…
Ah, hell. Who am I kidding?
Mislaid
Royce
Howinthehelldidsheend up inthe company Gramps bought?
Fuckingimpossiblysmall world.
As I sit here listening to a presentation of STS’s last quarter, I go over every step that led me to this point, trying to find evidence of a secret machination.
Gramps had completed the purchase of STS six months ago. He made it no secret either Thomas or I would have to go to Austin to complete the takeover by weeding out those not pulling their weight. Gramps weighed the pros and cons of who he should send. Thomas slowed the process down even further by moaning he should be the one to go. In the end, Gramps selected me. As acting CEO, I had to experience transitioning a company into our fold first-hand. Otherwise, how could I expect a subordinate to do it?
When I arrived in Texas, Austin’s pouring skies greeted me with open arms and the humidity stuck to me like white on rice. I had to stop in the jet walk and remove my suit jacket before I sweated through it.
During the taxi ride to the hotel, I checked the time. The flight took a little longer than normal because I didn’t fly in one of our private jets. Instead, I grabbed a seat in one of our cargo planes to Dallas, then took a commercial flight to Austin.
I enjoy flying cargo, mainly to hang with Derik Carter, and his co-pilot, Arturo Martinez. I sit in a jump seat and listen to their banter while I work on my laptop.
Since both men had grown up in the era of “your momma” jokes, they entertained me with their increasingly raunchy smackdowns the entire flight. The best one I heard this time was when Arturo told Derik,“Yo mamma stinks so bad, the doctor has to wear a hazmat suit just to give her a Pap smear.”
I laughed the entire time it took us to fly over Illinois.
Although they know, as well as I do, that their jokes are all in fun, I’d still hate it if their respective mothers ever heard them, considering they are friends and bridge partners.
Arturo, a stocky man with a pencil-thin mustache, has been with the company around ten years, but Derik, a big man with a hearty laugh, has been at the Grayson Group almost from the beginning. He was the son of Gramps’s executive assistant, Mr. Frank Carter.
Derik’s father died of a heart attack two months’ shy of Derik’s twenty-first birthday. Gramps set up his mother, and his two siblings, Danté and Justin, for life.
