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Shit. Just what I need.
“Okay. Take me to the suits, and let’s see what we can do about this.”
They day is a complete whirlwind of activity as we all try to put out the fires. It’s certainly not easy. They’ve all been sitting around, waiting for me to arrive because they need my final say on most of these decisions.
It’s billion-dollar stuff—decisions I make today will affect a whole shitload of people.
I spend most of my time in calls—with government regulators, other corporations, competitors, even my Dad. I don’t like calling him about work, but I’ve never had to deal with anything of this magnitude before. I’m confident I can get this shit done, but it never hurts to make sure I’m on the right track.
“You can do this, son,” he tells me. “Stick to your guns, and don’t let them squeeze you a millimeter more than they need to.”
In the end, it comes down to a basic principle: Adler and InFini together are just too fucking big. Tens of billions of dollars, almost all of the physical retail space in the sector, almost all of the jobs. The government doesn’t like that.
So we either have to split the businesses up, which makes no sense at all because we’ve only just bought the damn company, or we have to start selling off certain departments to stay within the letter of the law.
This isn’t ideal—I only bought Infini because it’s profitable from top to bottom, with great potential for future growth. None of its divisions make much sense to sell . . . but I have to. If we fall afoul of the regulations, it’ll mean ridiculous fines and endless problems, legal battles, and on and on.
Nope, I need to do something.
I need to get creative, and it’s not easy. But as the day goes on, I’m finding that I’m actually . . . enjoying myself, somehow? I’m not just a pencil pusher, a signature in an expensive suit.
The decisions and choices I make today will have an actual, real-life impact on the future of both the businesses. I’m back at the coalface, making decisions that matter.
And it’s only now that I remember why I agreed to take over from my Dad in the first place. It would have been so easy for me to just take a cushy, meaningless position and live off my trust fund. Recently, I’ve even actually been considering it.
Eventually, I find a solution that seems to work. The accountants can’t find any faults with it, and we won’t lose too much control. We’ll just need to sell off a few smaller departments and get creative with the ones we have left and their organizational structure.
Once we finally get it solved, there are tired cheers and high-fives all around. It’s late, and already dark outside—most of the office has gone already.
I never got the chance to take a shower, and I must have drunk a gallon of coffee over the course of the day.
“Nicely done,” Brock tells me. He’s slumped back in a chair, sipping on a bottle of beer. “I thought for sure that we were fucked there.”
“We still could be,” I say. “But I think we’ve done enough to keep the feds away. I guess we’ll find out soon.”
He peers at me. “Where were you last night, anyway? Your flight back from Paris landed, and then you disappeared. Cosy night in with the wife?”
I realize that I haven’t even had time to mull over Tessa’s confusing mixed signals all day.
“You could say that,” I reply carefully.
“I thought she was still full steam ahead with the annulment?” he asks, puzzled. “You two are still banging though? How does that work?”
I shrug with a wry smile. “Beats me. I’m just along for the ride.”
He opens his mouth to say more, then decides against it.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, Brocky boy. Go home and get some rest. I’ll need you fresh again for tomorrow.”
He gets up to leave. Before he does, he turns. “TMZ and co. are still calling me every fucking day, trying to get an interview or a photoshoot and stuff with you, you know.”
“Whatever. Just ignore them. I’ll be old news before long.”
“I doubt that, Luke. Not unless you somehow lose all your money and those muscles of yours.”
“Sure,” I grin. “I’ll work on that.”
Once Brock’s gone, it’s just me in this spacious conference room. I’m still too wired from all the coffee; don’t feel like sleeping.
I take a wander through the office just to stretch my legs a little. And who should I happen to find but my darling wife, tapping away on her computer.
“Tess? What are you still doing here?”
She looks up at me. “I’m your PA, remember? I thought I’d stay just in case you needed me. It’s in the job description, right? I also thought I’d take the time to do some research and familiarize myself with the different businesses under your control. I want to take this job seriously.”
