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I’d finally convinced him to agree to another sitdown, but our talks weren’t progressing any further than they had over email and videoconferencing.
“You have the user base and technology, but you don’t have the ability to scale as quickly as your business demands,” I said. “Your current audience is concentrated in the US, Canada, and pockets of Europe. We can take you global. Our presence in emerging markets—”
“I don’t give a fuck about emerging markets,” Rohan said. “I told you. It’s not about the money. Colin and I built this company from the ground up. We dropped out of Stanford and worked our asses off to get it to where it is today. He may have been impressed by all the zeroes you’re throwing around, but I’m not. I’ve done my research, Young. You think I’m going to roll over and let some vulturish corporation sweep in and tear us apart the way you did to Black Bear?”
Goddammit, Tobias.
My jaw clenched. The ink hadn’t even dried on the Black Bear contract before he’d pushed through “significant restructuring.” Mass layoffs, destroyed morale. It was a mess.
“I’m not the one running point on Black Bear,” I said. “I assure you, DigiStream will be integrated seamlessly under my watch.”
“It doesn’t matter whether it’s you or someone else running point. It’s all the same.” Rohan shook his head. “You look out for your bottom line, not anyone else’s. With Whidby gone, the company needs stability, not more change.”
Frustration chafed beneath my skin.
Goddamn Whidby. I should get the phrase tattooed, given how many times it crossed my mind.
“Give me a list of specific concerns,” I said. “Layoffs, team restructuring, workplace culture. We’ll hammer them out. We’ve been in negotiations for over a year, and you and I both know a merger would be a boon to both companies. This is a billion-dollar deal hinging on a few small details.”
“Small but important.” Rohan tapped his fingers against his armrest. “I’ve seen the tabloids, and I’ve heard the rumors. Your selection as CEO isn’t guaranteed.”
My spine stiffened. I’d put out the most urgent fires while I was in Turks and Caicos, but there were plenty of smaller blazes left unchecked. My mother had found out about Jade Cay, which was why I’d been avoiding her calls all week. I had to follow up with Clarissa, who’d left me a cryptic voicemail over the weekend, and Paxton, who’d reached out again with an alliance offer. With the way things were going, I was seriously considering it.
“Honestly, I didn’t think you were the playboy type,” Rohan said, his eyes sharp. “Sneaking around with a bartender? Very unlike the image you’ve previously portrayed.”
Irritation hardened my jaw. If there was one thing I hated almost as much as losing, it was being called a fake. “I didn’t realize my personal life factored into our talks.”
“It shouldn’t, but given the mess with Whidby, I’m sure you understand why I’m hesitant to do business with someone who’s embroiled in scandal.”
“I was dating an employee, not doing drugs,” I said flatly. I used the past tense deliberately, if not truthfully. No one needed to know about my continuing relationship with Isabella until after the vote. “She’s no longer employed at Valhalla, which renders the point moot.”
“Perhaps.” His fingers tapped faster.
Sneaking around with a bartender? Very unlike the image you’ve previously portrayed.
I could read between the lines. Rohan didn’t care about Isabella per se. The tabloid gossip had thrown my character into question, and he was worried about being deceived.
Unfortunately, no matter how much I tried to reassure him, he didn’t budge.
“We can resume our last round of talks after the vote,” Rohan said after half an hour of fruitless back-and-forth. “I’m not signing anything until I’m sure the new CEO will honor the terms, both in spirit and on paper. I can’t risk it, and like you said, we’ve been in negotiations for a while. If you’re voted in and we still can’t come to an agreement, then I’m sorry. The deal is dead.”
I left Rohan’s office and headed straight to my hotel bar for a stiff drink. My head pounded with a vicious migraine, which my scotch did nothing to alleviate.
Four months ago, I’d had the DigiStream deal locked in, the CEO position within reach, and my pesky emotions in check. Now, my control over my professional and personal lives was unraveling faster than the seams of a worn-out coat.
The downward slide started the moment I walked upstairs and heard Isabella playing the “Hammerklavier” at Valhalla. If I’d stayed at the bar that day, I might’ve been in an entirely different situation right now.
The problem was, if I’d stayed at the bar, Isabella and I would’ve remained acquaintances. No secret room, no Brooklyn date, no Christmas movie marathons or island getaways or the dozens of small moments that had made the otherwise hellish months bearable.
My gut twisted.
I rubbed a hand over my face and tried to focus my thoughts. I was here for business, not to wallow overshould havesandwhat-ifs.
My phone lit up with a news alert.
I glanced at it, then froze.
“Kai Young’s Mistress’s Lies Exposed!” theNational Stargloated.
