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“Thank you for holding, Ms. Beaumont. Friday will be fine. Meet him at noon on Friday at Cutters on the Pier.”
“Can I get your boss’s name?” I ask, but the question gets me nowhere. The woman said what she needed to say and hangs up without asking whether noon’s an acceptable time.
“So what’s that about?” Zach asks. “Who’s the potential client?”
“I don’t know. The woman hung up. No contact number, no information. Nothing.” I shake my head in frustration.
“Don’t go if you’re worried about it,” Zach says, a frown marring his normally cheerful face.
“You know that’s not going to happen. I want this business to be a success, which means I’ll meet with anyone and everyone,” I reply, taking a few seconds to mark the appointment in my calendar.
“Want me to go instead?” he asks.
“I thought you had meetings all week.”
“I do,” he says, the frown still in place. “But I can adjust my schedule.”
“It’s at Cutters, and I love the food there. I promise I’ll be fine, Zach. I’ve dealt with a lot of less than pleasant clients. I’m not worried about a business lunch at a public place.”
“But don’t they have private rooms there?”
“Yes, they do, but they’re usually for larger parties. Even if I end up alone with the mystery person in one of the rooms, it won’t matter because of the waitstaff.”
“I don’t like it, but I trust you to do what you feel is right,” Zach says before looking at his watch and grimacing. “I have to run, doll. We’ll have more time to talk about this later —beforeyou go or don’t go.”
I barely have time to tell him goodbye before he rushes out the door. This is our lives right now. Fourteen-hour workdays followed by more work at home, and no days off. In the end it will be worth it, though, because I’ll retire early, and most of the time it doesn’t feel like work anyway. I love my business.
Well, I love it at least eighty percent of the time. Still, it’s different from working at my last place. That had been full of trauma and feeling like a failure far too often.
In this new business, I rarely catch a glimpse of the people I manage. A client comes in to request an accountant for their business, and I dispatch one. Some of the jobs turn into permanent retainers, and some are temporary. Some are complicated and some are easy. I’m good at finding new clients and excellent at matching employees to businesses. Time will only make Zach’s and my business more reputable. This is going to be my year to shine.
Pushing the unusual phone call from my mind, I look at my computer, and I’m immediately immersed in work. Friday will come soon enough. I have plenty to worry about without obsessing over an enigmatic phone call.
Chapter Three
McKenzie
“Right this way, Ms. Beaumont.” The host is impeccably dressed, fitting for a nice restaurant located next to the historic Pike Place Market. When we bypass the regular dining room, my stomach clenches the slightest bit.
This potential client clearly has money. It isn’t cheap, or easy, to get a last-minute private dining room anywhere in Seattle, let alone one with a view of Elliott Bay, Mount Rainer, the Olympic Mountains, and the Port of Seattle — all at once.
Why would anyone with this kind of money be interested in my fledgling accounting firm? The room I step into is large, with only one small table set up by the impressive windows looking onto the bay, and I know right now that Imusthave whoever this is for my client. This man — or woman — can bring my business into the forefront with a big solid bang.
“I’ll hang your coat for you,” the host says. Excitement teams with my nerves as he pulls out my chair and waits for me to hand over my coat and sit. This accomplished, I wonder how long I’ll have to wait to meet this mystery person.
He — it has to be a male — most likely knows I’ll wait all day if that’s what it takes. I can’t believe I’ve gotten away with putting this person off for three days. It was a silly power play, and it could’ve cost me a big client. I’ll have to be more careful in the future. Will I have to do some serious sucking up now? I don’t even care. I’m going to make this business the best Seattle has to offer.
“May I offer you a drink while you wait?”
“Yes, an iced tea, please,” I reply.
The man vanishes right away, zips back in, and vanishes again, leaving me alone in the room. This level of service is new to me. I’ve made a lot of money over the years as a motivated businesswoman, but the host’s behavior makes it clear the person I’m about to meet has a whole new level of wealth, a wealth only a few possess. And though I’ve made a lot of money, I also have a lot of expenses. Luxurious meals aren’t one of them.
A few minutes later I realize I’m no longer alone. My body tenses, and I have a feeling I’m not going to be happy when I look up. However, I have to find out who’s draining the oxygen from the room so I turn... and of course, walking toward me is none other than Byron Astor. I should’ve known, and maybe I did somewhere deep down inside, but I’ve refused to think he could be the man behind the phone call.
If I had, I wouldn’t have come, and Idesperatelywant his business. Call it my competitive nature, or my will to survive, but all I know for sure is I have to make it in Seattle’s business world — in my own business — and Byron Astor has a wealth I want a piece of.
“I see you found the restaurant,” Byron says as he walks up beside me, pausing before he moves and sits. When his knees brush mine under the table, I curse the intimate setting and scoot back a couple of inches. It will make eating a bit more difficult, but I don’t care.
