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“I agree. So why the face?”
Fuck. For someone who is usually void of emotion, I’m acting like a freaking teenage boy with too much testosterone. I can’t date and focus on business. The two things don’t go hand in hand.
“I suggest we divest from PetroDepend.”
I stare at Caleb. “Why? We have good returns, and the numbers are great.”
“I see those figures, yet I have a gut feeling something is up. I’m going to investigate it further.”
“Good. Let me know what you find.”
We go back and forth for another thirty minutes.
I check the time on my watch—another two hours before I board my flight. Caleb and I talk shop for a few minutes, largely about the Sharks buy and when we will officially confirm the purchase. I check the time again. “I need to go. See you next month.”
While driving to the jet, I’m thinking about Penny and her meeting with Jobe. He better fucking listen and not drill her.
I’m more nervous about that meeting than any of the work meetings I have set up for the week. It’s exactly why I have to pull myself together.
16
PENELOPE
During my lunch break,I walk out of the office to a black Bentley waiting to drive me to Hendricks Realty.
Royce gets out of the driver’s seat and comes around to greet me. “Hello, Penny.” He opens the back door.
“Hi, Royce. How are you?”
“Fine, thank you.”
He closes my door and strides around to the driver’s side. He slides in and focuses on the traffic to veer out into the Downtown LA chaos.
“Is Franklin home tonight?”
“Yes. His flight arrives at six-thirty.”
“Right.” I can’t wait to see him and show him my ideas if I get through this meeting unscathed.
We park out in front of Hendricks Realty, and before Royce closes my door, Jobe, Franklin’s brother, is standing on the street to greet me. He looks exactly like the pictures on social media. No Photoshop is required for these handsome men.
“The famous Penny Gilbert.” His smile is as infectious as Franklin’s, only it produces less stress lines around his eyes and brows. Closer up, I see he has a smooth forehead with no expression lines.
My first impression?
Jobe isallabout appearances.
Is it weird he knows my full name? Who am I kidding? This family has probably searched the crap out of my profile. My heart beats faster with every step toward the huge automatic sliding doors.
Jobe has the same dark hair, brown eyes and facial features as Franklin. He holds a card to a sensor box, and the doors slide open. Jobe places a hand on my lower back as we enter the building, the doors closing behind us. The foyer has one receptionist, and a hallway and staircase are behind her. The space is decorated in sage green and ivory, with decorative brass items placed around the foyer and on a coffee table.
“We’ll talk in the private meeting room.” He leads me down the hall to the only door on the right. There is a huge table that seats twenty-four people. In the corner are two couches with a coffee table and a rug between them. The niche has a cozy, intimate feel and is less formal than the meeting table.
Jobe pours himself a whiskey from a table by the wall. “Can I get you anything?”
I don’t want alcohol, but I’m not judging why he needs to drink at midday. “Just a water, please.”
He peers over his shoulder. “Nothing else?”
