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I mentally rolled my eyes. The new CEO must have been good-looking. “Thanks.”
The takeover for the company I temporarily worked for had been brutal, frequently leaving my boss in a terrible mood. The weird thing was that I’d never met the new boss—all communication had been over the phone and through email. Mr. Cartier and the owners of the other company, O’Connor and Savino Financial Services, must have met once outside of the office. All of that meant the employees were anxious about what would come next. No job was safe, and layoffs were expected.
By the time the driver pulled up in front of Cartier Financial Services, I’d unraveled the thread at the hem of my skirt. Good thing the seam kept the bottom from hanging crookedly. I pushed out a breath, trying to let go of the stress and stop damaging my limited clothing. I only had a pair of pants, two other skirts, a handful of blouses, and one jacket. The secondhand store was picked over, and I didn’t have a lot of choices or spare cash. Going for a drink or four last night hadn’t been the best budgeting decision either.
A group of people close to the door caused a commotion—Mr. Cartier at the center of several security guards. I glanced in that direction, and a camera flash went off as Mr. Cartier caught my gaze. A malicious grin stretched his mouth wide before he shouted toward the entrance where the door was open, “Wasn’t it convenient that you ran into her before?”
Who’s he talking to?I tried to see past the shadows and the sun’s glare on the glass of the building, where Mr. Cartier directed his comment. All I could decipher was a large form just beyond the door he held open.
“You should look into what she’s done to the company. What she can still do.” He continued to raise his voice as the entrance to the building slowly closed and the guards jostled him farther back.
Not wanting to get sidetracked or involved in whatever that was, I ducked my head and closed the distance between myself and the office building’s entrance.
I pulled the tall glass door open on the high-rise where my job was, waving to the receptionist sitting at the large curved desk barring entry to anyone without an ID card or appointment. I scanned the lobby but couldn’t figure out if any of the handful of employees were involved in the drama. What mattered was that I hurry and get to my desk before the new boss realized how late I was.
My heels clicked on the oversized marble tiles as I crossed to the bank of elevators. I didn’t have long to wait before a soft ding indicated it had arrived. The doors opened, and I stepped inside. I arrived at the fifteenth floor with lightning speed then hurried across the dark wood floor to the section where the executives had large offices. Mine was the gateway to Mr. Cartier, the company’s former CEO, the man who’d made a scene outside.
The low murmurs of tense voices filled the cubicles—everyone had sleek, modern desks with clean lines—as I weaved around coworkers who wore shell-shocked expressions. The frantic click of keyboards as they hurried through one task to the next filled the air. It was the day we would learn more of the new CEO’s plan.
A few cast glances my way, and I felt their unease. If my tardiness registered with them, what would happen with the new boss? Stress was the consensus, and I read it on everyone’s faces. It was a familiar emotion, as I didn’t know what would happen to my job, either, especially since I was expendable. I only hoped that the new boss wasn’t on this floor to notice I was twenty minutes late.
I speed-walked to my desk, tossed Lauralee’s purse backpack into the middle drawer on the right, and flung myself into my chair, quickly turning on my workstation. As it booted up, I tapped my fingernails between nervous glances at the closed door.Is the new boss in there?
The screen flared to life, and my fingers hovered over the keys on the keyboard. As soon as everything loaded, I clicked the email icon and got to work sorting through everything that had come in from last night and this morning. In between handling what I could and putting the rest on a list either to discuss with the boss or look into further, I cast annoyed glances at that damn closed door. It mocked me, concealing a man with a sense of power I resented.
I’d been put down, ignored, mistreated, and told I would amount to nothing for as long as I could remember. The only exceptions where my high school math teacher and Alison, who’d lived in the trailer next to ours. She had been a friend and positive influence in my life, and when she’d died a year ago, it had crushed me. With her gone, nothing held me to the run-down trailer park—certainly not Ma or the trailer I sometimes called home. I bet Ma didn’t even know I’d left and moved into an apartment with Lauralee, even though it’d been almost a year since I’d come home to her death trap trailer.
My twentieth birthday came and went. If not for the scholarship my teacher had helped me get and my friendships with Alison then Lauralee, I wasn’t sure where I would be. As for landing this job, my fake ID—doctored by Lauralee’s friend—and the lie Alison’s sister, Tracy, was in on said I was twenty-four. I needed the older age to help open doors for better-paying jobs to pad my on-the-run fund if the mob found my current location.
CHAPTER THREE
LUC
The thrill of taking over another company eased the itch that drove me to conquer, to succeed. It was a constant noise in the background of my mind, urging me to keep going, never to fall back to how things used to be. I took a moment and drank it in, how far I’d come from illegal fights paying for college, to owning my own business, and to the career that enabled me to help my sister, Breanna, finance her education and anything else she needed.
I basked in the hard work and dedication it took to get here then eased out of the walk down memory lane to the present, where the faint sound of phones ringing filtered through the closed door as I splashed two fingers of whiskey into a tumbler. I glanced around the ostentatious CEO’s office, which was now mine. Becca, our deputy director, waited with her iPad at the ready.
“Get John on the phone and make sure the interior designer starts updating this floor first. I want those cubicles gone. And find out more about the executive assistant I have. I discovered early this morning that they didn’t disclose Edward’s assistant was on maternity leave and a temp has been working here for three weeks.”
“Right away.” Becca made a few notes then headed out the door, where I caught a glimpse of a woman sitting at the executive assistant’s desk.
It’s about time. I’d been delegating a few tasks to Becca while waiting for the other woman, who’d arrived late to work. Becca was capable and used to my process, which was why she was valued and earned an astronomical salary—John and I wanted to ensure she wouldn’t go elsewhere.
My phone rang with the call I’d requested. John’s greeting was brief. As my business partner and the head of my assimilation staff, he knew the drill.
“Is everyone in place?” My team of employees was distributed throughout the building and would report their findings by the end of the week. The extra training or layoffs would begin then. The company had potential, and the reason it had come to my attention in the first place was the clients. It was a solid business in the financial investment world and would only add to our global footprint.
“Yes. And security followed Edward Cartier and made sure he’s off the premises.”
“Good.” The former CEO had been a problem the night before and that morning. “Also, there’s been a change of plans. I’ll only be here for a day, and I’ll need you up here when I’m gone.” I had business back in New York. Usually, I liked to stay for at least a month to ensure things were up and running in the way O’Connor and Savino Financial Services did things. But with pressing board meetings, I didn’t have that luxury. Before hanging up, we handled a few more bullet points from our usual takeover agenda.
When my phone rang again, I couldn’t help the smile at seeing my sister’s name on the screen. Meeting the new employee could wait—in fact, anyone could when it came to Breanna. “Hey, Bre. How’s it going?”
“Luc! I’m good. Wish you were around to go to lunch, though. How long will you be in California?”
A pang hit me. I missed her too. It had been a while since we were able to hang out, given the complicated corporate acquisition. “I’m only here for the day. I’ll find a few days off soon, and we’ll have Christmas to spend together. You need to tell me where we’re going to spend it.”
“Ah, I thought I already did. Aruba this year.”
