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“Anyway,” I said, changing the topic away from the hot bombshell who’d rocked my world before she’d disappeared, “they’re doing a hell of a marketing campaign for Victor Toussaint. He’s bringing his jewelry range to the States, and I want it. Since Griffin aimed for the same thing, Elecoms thought they were being clever by getting us to both prepare for it and see who does best.”
Scott raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like a messy game to me.”
“Nah, not if I’m the one who wins it,” I said and grinned at my brother.
“Nothing if not competitive,” Scott said, shaking his head and glancing at his article. “So, what does this Happy Meal have to do with it?”
I laughed at that. “Nice. We’re going to brainstorm together. It’s supposed to be a team thing, and then one of us wins. I don’t know, it’s stupid.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” Scott said. “Who works in a team just to get up against each other?”
“Sebastian Stein."
Scott chuckled. “I thought at our age we would have outgrown playground politics.”
“Are you kidding me?” I said with a laugh. “The same jackasses who were full of shit back then just grew up, and they’re still full of shit now. Playground politics just becomes politics at some point.”
I started drafting a response.
The truth was, I wanted to meet this guy now. Happy Meal, as my brother had dubbed him.
Perfect.
Mr. Frye,
I think getting together is the perfect way to kick off the campaign. I didn’t realize someone new would be on the team. Sebastian Stein always has a trick up his sleeve, eh? It sounds good, why don’t we meet after work for a drink or two and we can go through the requirements and see where we can help each other. My office or yours?
Regards,
T. Larson
I sat back and turned my attention to the game on the big TV against the wall. Before I could really get into it, my laptop pinged with a reply.
Mr. Larson,
I’m the ace up Stein’s sleeve. I don’t usually get so up close and personal on the first date, but let’s see your digs. I’ll be at your office tomorrow at five. I’m holding you to that beer—can’t think clearly without a little lubrication.
Mack
I laughed. This guy was funny, I’d give him that. Maybe, since he was new, he wouldn’t be so full of shit as Stein’s guys usually were. Maybe we could get along. Not that it would change my plans—I was still going to kick dust in his face and take the contract. I wanted the Elecoms contract. If I could get Victor Toussaint on my side, that would be a hell of a notch on my bedpost. He was only the most famous jewelry designer on the other side of the world, and having him and his jewels on my billboards would kick my business into another gear.
It wasn’t just about that, though. I liked winning.
“I gotta go,” Scott said when his phone beeped; he frowned at the screen.
“Emergency?”
“Yeah, you know how it goes.”
I nodded and let Scott out. He was a pediatrician, and his kids always came first. He was damn good at what he did—they all said he had magic hands, and I had to agree.
I’d thrown myself into business when we’d lost Jake, our brother, in an accident. Scott had thrown himself into medicine. I hadn’t been able to save Jake, so I turned away from the rest of the world. Scott hadn’t been able to save him either, so he vowed to save all the others.
I guess we all deal with grief differently.
“I’ll see you later,” Scott said when I let him out. “Let me know what the Happy Meal is like.”
I laughed. “You got it.”
