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"The Heracles chip. LimTech sold to the Chen Group."
Fuck. No. "What? They were taking offers until the end of month. We still had two weeks.”
"Well, maybe if you'd picked up your fucking phone, you'd have heard me tell you to get in contact with them and put in your offer. The merger's been announced. We just lost a 300-million-dollar deal that would've added value to 40% of our Asia portfolio. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!!! The Heracles chip was a pivotal part of our strategy for our tech companies going into the next few years. This was a huge fuck up. And it was by me. I had been cocky and thought of it as a lock. Something had changed last minute, and I had not kept up with it. Suicide in this business.
"Look, I'll have a talk to Jason. There must be some sort of misunderstanding here."
"The Financial Times doesn't post misunderstandings. You're going to pay for this fuck up, you stupid little shit."
The phone hangs up and I'm still reeling from the acidity of his words. This is a new low for him. We lose out on accounts all the time, not as many as other organizations, maybe, but enough that we've all had bitter losses. Especially when it's to our competitors, it burns.
A quick google search tells me Gerry wasn't lying, which I wasn't entirely convinced of. There, on the fucking first page of the Hong Kong Economic Times. says "Chen Group wins out the patent for the Heracles chip set to revolutionize the RISC-V code."
"Get Henry on the phone now," I yell to my admin assistant. As my acquisitions VP he dropped the ball as much as I did. I’ll take the hit, but he’s going to have to explain how he didn’t pick up on it either.
"He's in Singap —"
"I don't care if he's on the fucking moon with his dick up a space cactus, get him on the phone now."
My phone dings and I know without looking it's one or all of my brothers, to simultaneously rub it in and commiserate but I ignore it. I want this conversation done so I can go home and be with Kiara, my only true source of comfort right now.
thirty
Kiara
"You're late." the text message says, at 6:31pm.
"Is that Nathan?" Kylian asks from the driver's seat when he sees me roll my eyes.
"Yeah. I was waiting for it. Like he's never late. He probably had it all typed out ready just hoping I'd be late.
"Sorry, traffic was brutal," Kylian apologizes, patting the hand I have on his thigh.
I can't stop touching him. He doesn’t seem to mind, but I wonder if one day he will.
"It's okay, I should've gotten a ride there, would've saved you having to come home and get me." Something I say makes him smile so wide, I can't see his eyes hidden by sunglasses, but I can feel the warmth emanating from them. "What?"
"I like when you call my apartment 'home.'"
"Oh. I meant your home," I tease him and he pretends to clutch his chest.
"Why are you so intent on hurting me?"
I'm surprised I don't have to bite back the response that used to linger on my lips ‘you hurt me first.’ I don’t feel that way anymore.
"I'm just kidding. But you know that I'm going to have to find another apartment."
"Um, why do I need to know that? That's not something I think I need to know and it’s a thing I think you should try to forget.”
"Kylian, I can't stay at your apartment"
"Um, why?"
"Well, we're not..."
"Not?"
