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“What can I do for you?” she asks flatly.
“I’m here to see Blake Avery,” I say candidly, entering the office properly. “Do you know where I may find him?”
Her eyes narrow. She’s about to reply, when the missing secretary—presumably returning from a juice break too many—barges into the office out of breath, panting, “I’m sorry, Miss Avery, I left my post only for a second; reception didn’t warn me someone was coming up to see—”
The pathetic excuse-giving is silenced by a raised hand from Angry Blue Eyes. “It’s okay, Tilly, I can handle this myself. Please close the door on your way out.”
Confident despite her young age. I like it.
The secretary backtracks, leaving the two of us alone in the office.
“You’re an Avery,” I accuse, some of my indignation coming back. The dance show got me momentarily distracted. Blake Avery must be more in the forties age bracket, then, if he already has a daughter in her twenties. I mean, she must be his daughter.
Angry Blue Eyes leans back against her father’s desk and crosses her arms over her chest. A move that she must intend as unfriendly, but that props up her assets already showcased by the sports bra, making me struggle not to lower my gaze away from her spectacular eyes. The way the generous amount of skin on display is covered with beads of sweat doesn’t help either.
“And who are you?” she asks, unaware of my interior struggle to maintain eye contact.
“Your family is in the fitness arena and you don’t know who I am? First rule of business, always study the competition.”
She raises an eyebrow at me in a way that seems more mocking than chastised. “Second rule of business, don’t walk into other people’s workplaces without an appointment, perhaps?”
“Touché,” I say, and since the sins of the father shouldn’t be laid upon the children, I offer an olive branch. “Gabriel Mercer,” I introduce myself, and for good measure, I add, “owner and founder of the Power Training franchise.” My revelation seems to leave her deeply unimpressed, so I continue, “I’m here to see your father.”
“My father?” Her tone is mutinous.
“Yes,” I confirm, pointing at the surrounding glass walls. “The owner of all this.”
She’s a wall of blue steel. “Why do you want to talk to my father?”
“An article came out today in The Wall Street Journal where Blake Avery made a few statements that didn’t sit well with me. I’d like to straighten out a few facts.”
“And, just to be clear, you want to discuss the article with my dad not with me?”
I nod, irritated. “Why would I want to discuss it with you?”
Her mutinous stare flares with cold fury but then her expression morphs from angry to teasing. “I’m sorry, Mr. Mercer, but my father is a busy man. I’m not sure he’ll have time to receive you. Anything else I can help you with?”
“Well, he’d better make time.”
“Or else?”
I don’t want to waste the morning on childish games. “I own the fitness game, in case you’re not aware, Miss Avery—I didn’t catch your name, by the way.”
“I didn’t offer it.”
Bratty and rude. “Suit yourself, but unless you want me to make things difficult for your father, you’d better tell me where I can find him.”
The flash of a challenge passes through her electric gaze, but soon, her blue eyes widen in fear and her entire demeanor changes. She becomes accommodating, almost to the point of being obsequious.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Mercer. Don’t mind me, what do we women understand about business and contracts, anyway?”
I don’t contradict her. Not because I agree with her, but simply because I don’t care to embark on a gender equality debate. Some of my most valued collaborators are women. In fact, I prefer to work with women as a general rule. Less posturing, more dedication.
But maybe this woman is still too young to care about her family’s enterprise. Heck, at her age, I, too, was more into chasing girls than deals. So I let the comment slide.
“I didn’t mean to offend such an important person as yourself.” She puts her hands forward. “Please believe me.”
The deference act is growing old quickly, so I ask the only question I really care about. “Are you going to tell me where to find your father or not?”
