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“Master Carmelo, dinner is served.”
I traced the statement with my finger as I read through the last paragraphs for what had to be the eighth time. Half the information was based on the leaders from the corporate level, the other half was on those at a field level.
“Fayette, it’s time.”
My hand rose as I finished up.
“Has Lenstrum gone through any major changes lately? Any new hires? A switch in marketing?” I stood watching as Charles’s eyes narrowed. “Both. What are you thinking?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Probably not, but I want to know anyway.”
“Okay. Well, my guess is the issue is on the field level. It may be small, but the impact is leaving holes in the flow. I know that sounds weird. Whatever the issue is, it’s obviously influencing capital. No reason for me to ask if you caught the loss. It’s not a big loss, but money is money. So, question is, can we pinpoint the cause, and can we fix it? We can. But not like this. I’m going to need you to trust me. I need to be more than the one giving you an heir. I need to be the heir. Let me do what I’m made to do. Let me talk to the board at Lenstum and figure this out.”
Chapter 14
Aimon
I’d always had a great smile. I was charming. Nice. When people talked, I listened. And not just listened, but my expression told them I cared about every issue they brought attention to. I’d been groomed not only to be a selling point, but a deal closer. It was what I was. Who I’d been born to be. Employee of the month. Ha! Try employee of the fucking century. I was made to leave a lasting impact. They didn’t have to wait and see how this was going to turn out. They already knew, and it wasn’t making me any friends in the sales department.
“Aimon, Mr. Peterson’s on line one. Also, there’s a delivery man at the front for you.”
I took in the bouquet, laughing as I shook my head. “I’m not much of a flower guy. Go ahead and sign for me, will you? Just let me know the name on the card.”
Jessica rolled her eyes but nodded as I headed for my office. No doubt the flowers were from Mrs. Winston. I’d gotten her a hell of a deal yesterday. She couldn’t thank me enough, although she sure as hell tried by slipping me her private number. Nope. Into the trash it went.
Shutting my door, I walked over, picking up the phone and hitting the number. “Mr. Peterson. Aimon Carmelo, here.”
“Aimon. Nice to talk to you again. I was wondering. I know we discussed the price differences and the different options for the stock you have in inventory, but I was thinking, if I’m going to spend that kind of money, perhaps I should just go all out and place an order. I’m not in a hurry. I can wait if I need to.”
“My kind of man. I couldn’t agree with the decision more. This sort of purchase is not something to rush into or even settle for. It’s an investment. I have your email. Let me put you something special together, and I’ll send it over in the next few hours.”
“That would be fantastic. Thanks, Aimon.”
“Absolutely. Have a great day.”
I hung up the phone, my smile immediately falling as I took in the closed blinds. Peace. Here, I didn’t have to be in a role. I didn’t have to smile or pretend to be social or happy. I was too tired to do that today. Sleep had been impossible with the number of dreams I continued to have. They were never good. Most of the time I was looking for something I couldn’t even recall. Sometimes it was Fay. Other times she was helping me look. Even free from my former life, I couldn’t escape the hole inside of me. Even free, I wasn’t complete.
Who was this man I was supposed to be? What was the purpose of my existence? They were deep questions, but not ones I couldn’t begin to decipher. Maybe I wasn’t meant to. Maybe there was no real answer. But there was something I did know. I missed Fay. I missed her more than my cars. More than the convenience money gave me. I missed reading to her and watching her sleep. I missed her smell. Her taste.
The emptiness morphed into an ache in my chest. It had me pulling out my cell. Where once it used to never stop ringing, I had nothing. Not one call from anyone I knew. Select clients had my private number, but it wasn’t something I gave out on a regular basis. Besides, the ones I had given it to were already satisfied customers. They were done with me.
Knocking had me looking up.
“Come in.”
Jessica poked her head inside. “Line one, Mr. Popular. It’s Mrs. Winston.”
“I can’t right now. She probably just wants to check on the flower delivery. Can you tell her I’m busy with a customer?”
“You owe me.”
“I know.”
The door shut again, and I pulled up Thomas’s number. After four rings I almost hung up, but he answered, short of breath.
“Aimon.”
