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Damon
The sun rises high above the cityscape. Grayson from legal sits opposite me with a scowl on his face. We’d agreed to give the transition a cooling period before we announced Robert Rhodes as one of ours. We should’ve had enough time to produce a real fanfare that would’ve been the focus of the media this morning. Instead, people are talking about publishing wars, broken families, and sordid affairs.
“Fix this.” I slam my hands down on my desk in frustration. I’ve never made headlines; I’ve made darn sure that the only headlines I’m a part of are the ones reported by the media umbrella of CPM.
“Damon, the media is the least of your concerns. This suit—” He gestures down at the paperwork on the desk with both hands. “You didn’t even give Monroe twenty-four hours before you made the announcement.”
“Somebody leaked the news. I wasn’t going to let it become worthless gossip. This needed a bang.” Standing, I toy with the different bottles of whisky on the cart beside my desk. “We’ve been sued before.”
“Not like this, and certainly not this publicly.”
I check my watch. It’s barely past seven in the morning, but—Fuck it—it’s almost seven in the evening somewhere in the world.
I pick a twelve-year-old Japanese single malt. The honeyed color and sweetness bring out Ava’s delicate scent still trapped between these walls. My mouth waters as I pour and then inhale the warm liquor. Last night I made a mistake allowing her to stumble out of here with my liquor on her lips. She should’ve been limping after I fucked her. It should’ve been my cum on her lips.
Dex saunters in unannounced with Fran hot on his heels. It feels like my office has become a revolving door for everyone. No one bothers to fucking knock anymore.
Taking the whisky from me, Fran hands me a cup of coffee. “Let’s stick to the soft stuff this morning.” She smiles, sitting on the edge of my desk. When I sit back into my chair, she leans forward, smoothing over the creased shirt I’ve had on my back for almost twenty-four hours.
“What do you want to do?” Fran asks, sniffing the whisky she’s still holding. “Fuck, I miss this so much.”
Her hand falls from my shoulder to then settle on her stomach like she needs a reminder of why she can’t have a hard drink. “I’ve gone through the figures, and you have options, but as CFO, I have to remind you that a loss like this will affect our turnover dramatically.”
“The only option here is to cut the Monroe girl loose.” Dex leans over the side of my desk. “It’s not about options or what you want to do. It’s about what needs to be done. This whole thing has gone far enough, Damon. Monroe isn’t worth it.”
“God, you’re a pussy,” Fran spits at him. “The whole point was to weaken them. Take away their most valuable assets to bring their market value down.”
“You’re all fucking crazy.” Grayson blows out a long breath. “But a lawsuit of this magnitude puts them in an awkward position, and it could be beneficial in terms of a buyout.”
“See?” Fran sticks her tongue out at Dex. “Options, dickhead.”
“So mature, Franny. My faith in your mothering abilities just rocketed.”
“More than I can say for my faith in your dickability.” Rolling her eyes, she focuses back on me, putting the whisky down before she reaches for her large purse and takes out her MacBook. “I looked into the baller biography you mentioned yesterday. I’m not into basketball, but from my research, I got the impression Callum Warner is king of the court right now.”
“Callum Warner is writing a book?” Dex pulls up a chair from the small meeting table. “Can he even read?”
“God, you’re an entitled prick, you know that?” Fran grits out. “Anyway, he’s set to earn over three hundred million this season on endorsements alone. That’s impressive and it tells me that whatever he puts out will bring in enough to swallow any loss.” She laughs, and jumping from my desk she adds, “Now tell me my game is off!”
The look she gives me is identical to yesterday’s outside the boardroom.
“This isn’t college. Stop using me to make her jealous.”
“Getting knocked up has cost you your game.”
Looking up at me, she laughs. “Careful, Damon, you might actually care about this one.”
Fran isn’t wrong, but she’s not right either. I care about Ava. I care about her assets and what she can bring to my company. It’s why I wanted her here in the first place.
“She’s an asset,” I grumble at her.
“Oh, I gathered that when I looked up Warner’s agent.”
“What the fuck are the two of you talking about?” Dexter groans, echoing Grayson.
“I’m going to go over this again. Find a loophole or make one that will stand up. Just don’t fuck any more shit up, all right?” Grayson collects his things, and before he leaves, he presses a kiss to the top of Fran’s head. “I love you. Stay out of trouble.”
“Aww,” Dexter teases her when Grayson disappears out of the door. “Pity you won’t agree to marry him.”
