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Rachel hesitates a second or two, then makes her way over. She gracefully lowers herself onto the sofa and slips her laptop bag off her shoulder. She pulls out her laptop and places it on the coffee table before her.
“I’m glad that you were pleased with the Ballantyne office space,” I say. “Gladys tells me you’ve already e-signed the lease agreement.”
She shrugs. “If that’s what you and Eliza want,” she says in a clipped tone, “that’s all that really matters.”
She locks those hazel eyes on me, and I want to get lost in them. I force myself to look away. “In addition to her clients, Eliza has poached a few of her former associates to come work for her. The new blood will rejuvenate the business.”
“No doubt,” she says with a curt nod.
Her compliance is out of character. “You’re good with this? You don’t want to interview the candidates first?”
Rachel snorts. “What’s the point? You’ll do whatever it takes to make Eliza happy. So, if she wants to bring her whole friggin’ staff with her, why pretend like my opinion matters?”
I eye her curiously and speak slowly. “Because you’re the president of the division, which means that Eliza and her staff work for you.”
She cuts her eyes to the side, not looking at me. What’s with her today? Why does she keep referencing Eliza in that snide tone? Does she think there’s something going on between us? Is Rachel Bradly, dare I say, jealous? Oh boy.
She turns sharply toward me. “You know, on second thought, yes, I do want to interview every single one of them. And I want your assurance that I have full authority to reject Eliza’s choices should I feel the need. That’s non-negotiable and…”
“Agreed.”
“…if you can’t see the—” She frowns at me. “You agree?”
I shrug. “I told you, you’re the president of the division. If you didn’t like the new office space, we would’ve kept looking. I need you to be happy here, Rachel.”
She pulls back, her frown deepening. It’s so adorable seeing Rachel so wrong-footed and unsure of herself. I’m this close to reaching over to give her a reassuring hug.
She clears her throat and leans over to open her laptop. “I’ve looked over the sales projection targets for the next two quarters. I think it’s too aggressive, even with Eliza, et al.”
“I think you’re underestimating yourself,” I reply. “I know what you’re capable of when you truly feel inspired. I’ve seen what you can do, remember?”
She tenses at my reference to our past. When she lifts her eyes to mine, there is such a vulnerability there it makes my heart ache. It’s as if she’s pleading with me to…forgive her? Is she thinking that now that I’m worth billions we can have a second chance? She dumped me back then, but now I’m finally good enough for her.
A fresh wave of anger rises in me. “The sales targets will remain as they are. And you can bet your ass that your compensation will be tied to hitting them.”
“Fine. But I noticed that the comp structure doesn’t include the parent company’s incentive program. If I hit my targets, I want to participate in Horizon’s profit pool.”
My brows hike up at her comment. “You’ve done your homework.”
“Why so surprised?” she quips. “You know I’ve always done my homework.”
“And yet you had no idea I was the one buying your company,” I retort.
“I had no idea you were even alive, much less that you built a fortune.”
“So, you thought I was…where all these years?”
She looks askance at me. “I honestly didn’t know. Your mother wouldn’t tell me a goddamned thing, and you had zero digital footprint until recently.”
“But you were fairly certain I didn’t amount to much,” I say, kicking myself mentally for going here, using her own words, but I can’t stop myself.
She stares at me for a moment before replying. “I honestly didn’t know if you’d turned to drugs or got in with a bad crowd. You just vanished, and I assumed the worst, not…” she gestured around, “all this.”
My stomach picked this moment to grumble loudly. I laugh self-consciously. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten all day. It’s been one of those days. We’ve got a big system conversion coming up that’ll have us working clean through the weekend.”
She smiles warmly. “I honestly shouldn’t be surprised about any of this. I’m really kind of,” her gaze breaks from mine as if afraid her eyes will reveal too much, “proud of you, Rhence.”
A surge of anger so powerful swells up in me that it takes all my self-control not to fly into a rage.Nowshe’s proud of me, now that she can bear to be seen with me. But back then, without my fortune, I was nothing more than something she needed to scrape off the bottom of her boot before entering Harvard. I push my anger down and move forward with the plan.
