8. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Harvey
I pinch the bridge of my nose, attempting to settle the rising anger coursing through me. Why won’t she answer my calls? We’ve had one heated argument about me wanting to help her business, yet she refuses to even entertain the idea. She keeps shutting me down at every turn.
Restlessly pacing my office, I’m interrupted by the loud ring of my work phone. I storm across the gray plush rug to my marble and timber-legged desk to answer the call. I run a hand through my swept-back hair, before settling into the chair, and resting my hand on my suit pants.
“Harvey,” I answer, my tone clipped as I struggle to maintain composure.
“You have a meeting at one in Manhattan. The driver is downstairs when you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Esme,” I reply curtly, my mind still reeling from thoughts of Jemima.
“Before you go, um,” she stammers.
“Yeah?”
“Would it be okay if I left early?”
My eyebrows pull together. “Why?”
“My daughter has a temperature; I need to pick her up from school.”
That is the exact reason why I’m nowhere near ready to have kids. They interrupt your life at any given time. Hence why I’ve stuck with flings. It keeps me focused on my goals.
“Sure,” I reply, hanging up.
Attempting to distract myself before I head into the meeting, I turn to my emails, but my mind still drifts to the feisty brunette. I need a game plan to break through her defenses.
Who better to ask than one of my brothers?
The question is, which one?
Jeremy, like me, didn’t receive one of our parents businesses. I’m not jealous of Oliver, who took over Mom’s gallery, or Evan, who took over Dad's media business, because our parents have money for us to support our own business adventures. Jeremy built his own empire; he started as an ophthalmologist and then become a hospital chain owner. As for me, I started with college, where I completed a Master of Science in Business Administration, and then worked for a company, where I gained industry experience, before venturing out on my own almost five years ago. Where I’m my own boss and buy other businesses to turn them around. We’re having a black-tie networking cocktail event this Friday, and the focus will be on mingling, showcasing recent acquisitions, and fostering connections between investors and industry leaders.
Shutting down my computer, I make my way out of my office, nodding to Esme. The car is waiting downstairs, which will take me to my first meeting.
An hour later, I’m walking away after they successfully approved our proposal, so now we can move on to drafting a contract. Next task of the day is Recaredo Events…
On the way, I call Jeremy. He’ll help me work through this roadblock with Jemima.
I’ve never encountered anything like this before. People never say no to me; they’re usually willing to do anything for me. But Jemima’s different. She’s saying no, and I don’t know how to change her mind.
He answers on the first ring. “Harvey. What can I do for you?”
“I need some advice.”
“Go on.”
I run my hand along my freshly shaved jaw. “I have a client who’s running out of time to pay their debt to the lenders. Dad’s given me an ultimatum. He wants me to turn this small business around, and I only have six months to do it.”
“Why are you worried? He gave you six months.”
“She’s been saying no for fucking weeks.”
“Weeks,” he barks, like he thinks I’m stupid and irresponsible.
I close my eyes briefly, sneering. “No need to yell, I get the fucking point.”
“She’s hot,” he smartly remarks, drawing my attention. “That’s got to be it.”
Her high cheekbones, long brown hair, and honey eyes I could get lost in, invade my mind.
I snort in an attempt to dismiss his assumption. “Pretty or not, she’s a pain in my ass. And I need her to fucking listen to me.”
He chuckles down the line, which irritates me further, causing me to snap. “Focus, please.”
“Do you want her business or is this to show Dad you can do this?” he probes thoughtfully.
“I have zero desire to run an event business. A failing one, at that,” I assert as my frustration builds.
Jeremy hums, as if he’s thinking. Exiting the elevator, I walk through the lobby, and I tug at my black vest, smoothing my black jacket, before nodding at my waiting driver and slipping into the backseat. “Buy her flowers.”
I raise an eyebrow sceptically. “It’s not a fucking date.”
“Trust me. It’ll work,” he insists.
“Based on what?” I challenge, though a small part of me is entertaining the idea.
“I’ve been around longer…” Jeremy begins, but his voice trails off, hinting at past experiences. A time before Nova.
I let out an audible sigh, as I give in to the idea. “Flowers. Right.”
Pulling my phone away from my ear, I direct my driver to head to a florist before my surprise upcoming meeting with Ms. Recaredo later this afternoon.
Jeremy gives me a list of flower names. I’ve never heard of them. I thank him for the tip and let my brother get back to his day.
We pull up to the curb outside the florist’s... Bloom she gets under my skin too.
“I want to help you pay your debt.”
Her eyes narrow. “Why?”
Do I tell her about the deal with my dad?
Her piercing glare would have anyone squirming in their chair. I find it weirdly attractive. Her confidence draws me in. It’s at this moment I realize the one thing I haven’t done yet is be honest with her. The flowers got me in here. I can’t waste this opportunity.
I fix my gaze on hers. “My dad won’t release my trust fund unless…”
Fuck, this is humiliating. I scratch the back of my neck.
Her face softens. “Unless what? You get married? Because that’s a hard no.”
I shake my head. That would be easy…
“You wish.”
Her lips purse. “I think this conversation is over.”
I’ve clearly upset her.
It’s now or never.
The clock is ticking. I have less than five months left. I’ve never failed at anything before. I will not lose this opportunity because I’m afraid of being honest. No fucking chance. So I swallow my pride and spill.
“I have six months to help you make your business profitable. Well, five now that you’ve blown me off for weeks.”
Her head lifts. Curiosity settles on her face, and that’s all I need to see to keep talking.
“You’re a Lincoln, don’t you have plenty of money?” Her eyes drop briefly over my designer suit.
“Not for what I want.”
Her eyebrow quirks. “What do you want?”
I exhale heavily. “A consulting firm, and I want my trust fund money to create the company.”
“Why this company? Can’t you find another one?”
“No, my dad wants me to make Recaredo Events successful. He believes it will have more merit if I turn around a business I don’t particularly enjoy.”
She stays silent, and I think it might be working, so I keep talking.
“My dad said I can’t try again for six years if I fail, so I can’t let that happen.”
“And you think you could help me?”
“Definitely.”
“You can’t throw your money around here and fix things.”
I chuckle darkly. “I know. He wants me to start from square one without throwing cash at the problem.”
“And that irritates you.”
“You have no idea.” I want to explain to her this whole situation irritates me, but she’s distracting me by nibbling on her lip.
While she struggles internally, I take this opportunity to ask more business questions.
“How long have your parents owned this?”
I know these answers, of course, as I’ve researched the business, but I want to show her how serious I am.
“It was originally my grandparents’.”
“How did it get into so much debt?”
She peers down at her desk before rolling her shoulders back. “My dad died, and my mom tried to take over. It’s a mess.”
I nod, sensing that it’s bothering her.
“Two eyes are better than one.”
“I don’t think so…” she mumbles under her breath.
She’s still on the fence, so I need to show her I’m willing to help find events she can host to repay the debts.
That's when I have a brilliant idea.
“I’m also here to invite you to attend a networking cocktail event for my company.”
She blinks. “Why would I go?” she argues. “You don’t need to rub my nose in your successful business.”
“Maybe you can form some connections and help your business.”
“You’re helping me with your money.”
“That’s untrue. There’ll be potential clients. Just come and bring your business cards.”
“Your tone isn’t convincing me that you want me there.”
I suck in a deep breath through my nose. “Fine. Ms. Recaredo, I would like you to attend the event, this Friday, at my office?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You’re impossible,” I mumble. Suddenly, I remember the nickname for the flowers, buttercup . I stand there, wanting to leave a mark, just like the way her molten eyes leave an impression on me. I lean toward her, my hands resting on the edge of her desk, bracketing her in. She gasps audibly. My face is only an inch away from hers, and fuck, this might have been a mistake, she smells so sweet. I lick my lips, our gazes locked. I reach down and grab my business card, holding it up to her. She snatches it and slowly leans back, but her chair stops her from going too far.
“If you show up at my event on Friday, I’ll take that as a yes, buttercup.” I wink, then push off the desk and stride out the door.