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Itry to hold onto a polite expression as I stare at the two men sitting across the boardroom table: Monty Steele—the asshole who wants to buy my wife’s company, gut it from the inside out and destroy everything Leah worked for, while putting hundreds of loyal employees out of work; and Sullivan Stapleton, the man who’s trying to help him do it.
This meeting is the absolute last thing I wanted to kick off the week with, but these two a fucking relentless; it doesn’t matter how many times I refuse whatever deal they’re offering, they just keep coming back with something else they think will wear me down.
They just don’t seem to understand that I’m not going to budge. Not on this. They could offer double what the company’s actually worth—triple, even—and I still wouldn’t want to let it go.
MesiTec was Leah’s pride and joy while she was alive, and now it’s her legacy. I know from a business standpoint it makes sense for me to let it go—I’m going to have to cut something if I want my media corporation to remain viable, and it’s not as though they’re trying to short-change me on the offer—but I just can’t do it. She left me in charge and I can’t let Monty Steele turn it into one of his cut and gut projects. Even if by some miracle he actually decided to keep the company in one piece, it won’t be the same. It won’t be Leah’s. The whole point of the company is to invest in female media creators—predominantly in the gaming world, where the gender gap has always been shockingly disproportionate—but Steele won’t follow through on that. All he’ll see are profit margins, or lack thereof, and want to overhaul the entire company.
“Come on, Grimsay,” Stapleton says, flashing a smooth smile that I’m sure must be kryptonite for most people. “Be reasonable. You haven’t built a billion-dollar corporation without knowing when to make sacrifices. You’ve been in the game long enough to know how it’s played—if you want to keep winning, you have to make some cuts.”
“I’m happy with my roster the way it is,” I bite back, keeping up the analogy.
He lets out a heavy sigh, shaking his head in exasperation. He turns to Steele and they lock eyes for a moment, some kind of silent communication playing out between them. Then Steele nods and Stapleton turns his attention back to me. “We can increase the offer. Another ten million.”
I don’t even blink. “I don’t know how many times I can say it. MesiTec’s not for sale.”
Steele looks ready to fly across the table and strangle me, but Stapleton’s only reaction is a tensing of his jaw.
Deciding I’ve had enough, I get to my feet and fasten my suit jacket, smoothing it down. “I think we’re done here. Thanks for stopping by, gentlemen. I’m sure you can find your way out.”
I stride out of the boardroom, hearing Steele muttering the word “asshole” as I exit. I don’t really care what he thinks of me, however; I have the same opinion of him, after all.
I’m supposed to be meeting with Grimco Media’s director in a few minutes, but I need some time to myself first. Randy—or RJ as he prefers—is a good guy, and I’m hoping he might end up as my son-in-law at some point considering he’s been dating my daughter Piper for about three years now, but despite the family ties, when it comes to work he’s all business. Bordering on ruthless, if we’re being honest. He’s exactly what I need in a director: someone hungry and driven and focused, who I can trust wholeheartedly. But his passion does mean that meetings with him can be a little draining, and after my stand-off with Steele and Stapleton, I need a breather.
I smile gratefully at my PA, Joseph, when he hands me a coffee as I reach my office. “Thanks, I needed this,” I tell him, taking a sip.
“No problem. RJ said to say he’s running late, so he’ll come to you.”
I nod. “Okay, yeah, that’s fine.”
“Also, your wife called,” he informs me, biting his lip and shifting around nervously. I don’t blame him; I don’t usually have much of a temper, but Natalia could make the Dalai Lama want to strangle someone, and poor Joseph has been witness to a fair few outbursts in recent years.
“Ex-wife,” I grate out.
He arches an eyebrow at me and I scowl, grumbling to myself as I throw the door of my office open. The brief second of comfort I got from the coffee is gone, and now I’m agitated all over again.
It’s true that technically Natalia and I are still married, but in reality I feel more like a man with a gun to his head every time I hear her name mentioned. As far as I’m concerned, we’re nothing to each other. We haven’t lived in the same house for more than three years, and for the past six months she hasn’t even been in the country. The only reason I can think of for her to be calling me now is that she’s run out of money. It’s definitely not to find out how her daughter’s doing, that’s for sure.
I clutch the edge of my mahogany desk in a white-knuckled grip and take a few moments to breathe through the tension. I’m not going to lose it. I’m not going to let Natalia send me into a spiral. She doesn’t have that power over me.
It doesn’t work though. All I can think about are her threats to take Izzy from me and the fear of losing my baby girl, or subjecting her to a bitter custody dispute, is crippling. My chest starts to constrict and my vision blurs at the edges. I know I’m on the verge of a panic attack and I’m so fucking pissed at myself for letting Natalia get to me like this.
I manage to tear myself away from my desk and make my way to the bathroom in my office. I feel like I’m walking through quicksand; every step feels like an effort. Once I finally get there, I yank open the mirrored cabinet above the sink and grab the bottle of Valium I keep here for these—fortunately rare—situations.
I take the pill and splash some cold water over my clammy face. It’s not instantaneous, but I can gradually feel myself returning to something resembling normal. I let out a groan of frustration. It’s been a while since I’ve let Natalia get to me like this. I can only guess that my defenses were already worn down by the meeting with Steele and Stapleton.
I look like absolute shit so I decide to take a quick shower before meeting with RJ. By the time I emerge from the bathroom, dressed in a fresh suit, I’m looking a hell of a lot more like the owner of a billion-dollar corporation and ready to do business. I still feel like balls but RJ doesn’t need to know that. Hopefully we can get this over and done with quickly, before the Valium really kicks in and I need to crash on my office sofa.
“How’d it go this morning?” he asks me as I step into my office.
I’m not surprised to find him already there, leaning against the arm of one of my sofas, glass of whiskey in hand. He’s a fair bit older than Piper—in his mid-thirties—but I’m hardly one to judge on that count considering my ex is eighteen years younger than me.
“They offered another ten,” I grumble. “I said no. Again.”
He just nods and takes a sip of his drink. I’m grateful that he’s not trying to push the issue right now—I really don’t have the energy for it. RJ understands my reluctance to let go of Leah’s company, but he also sees it as the most viable option for getting back in the red. And he’s probably right; there are other companies I’d rather let go of, but we’re not getting offers for those and we’re not likely to.
“I want to set up a meeting with Carter Duncan,” RJ declares, catching me off guard with the change of topic.
“Any particular reason?”
