17. Carter
17
CARTER
T he only reason I’m going into the office is because I know it’s an emergency.
Bradley wouldn’t have called me otherwise. He knows my aunt is in town and that it’s important for me to spend time with her and sell the whole marriage thing. But when two board members call a secret meeting and one of them is Huxley, I can’t sit back and not get involved.
Bradley is waiting for me in the parking lot when I pull in.
“You know, for someone who lives in Connecticut, you sure are here a lot,” I comment, getting out of my car.
Bradley bumps my fist, giving me a once-over. “Something’s different.”
“Yeah, I’m not in my suit. You caught me right on the way back from the airport.”
“Nah, that’s not it. You seem way too relaxed.” Bradley studies me closely. “Wait a minute, I know that stance. You had sex.”
“Not quite.” I shake my head, annoyed. “Get out of my ass.”
Part of me is glad I’d taken Eden up on her offer, even if Vance’s showing up couldn’t have come at a worse time. The cupcake sex was hot as fuck. I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if Vance hadn’t appeared. Us rolling between the sheets all night, that was what would have happened—naked, sweaty, sticky. Luckily, I jerked off this morning. Hard. Twice. Still, there needs to be a repeat performance, and soon—this time preferably with an uninterrupted outcome.
Bradley claps his hand on my shoulder. “Not quite? Not quite means yes. I knew it. I knew you couldn’t be fake married to your assistant and not get your dick wet again.”
I give him a dark look. “Hey, watch it.” It comes out harsher than I intended.
Bradley’s eyebrows shoot up. “Sorry, bro.” He lifts his hands in surrender. “Didn’t realize you were that into her. My bad.”
I grab my tablet from the driver’s seat and tug it under my arm, calming my nerves. Bradley’s a loyal friend, and we go way back, so he knows how to push my buttons better than anybody. Usually, I appreciate him for his “No BS” attitude, but the unexpected meeting has thoroughly soured my mood.
I bump his knuckles. “Also, don’t fucking say I’m married. It’s only a fucking show.” I close the car door. “And it’s supposed to be between us, remember?”
“Then you might want to get rid of that.” Bradley eyes my left hand, where I had slipped on the wedding band before picking up my aunt.
“Fuck. Good call.” I take the ring off and put it in my pocket as we head into the building. “Any idea what this meeting is about?”
“Nope. Just that Huxley called it, and my boss told him to make sure you were there. I figured he hadn’t said anything to you, which is why I called.”
“Of course he didn’t inform me. Huxley never misses a chance to cut me out of things.”
I’m not worried about being kept in the dark—pissed off about it, that’s what I am. Huxley knows damn well I’d planned to be tied up with my aunt’s visit, and he’s using the time to try to go behind my back. Joke’s on him though because more people are loyal to me than they are to him.
In the conference room, I find Saul Huxley and CEO Nathan Bernie sitting and speaking in low voices. Without knocking or waiting to be acknowledged, Bradley and I walk right in. Huxley sits at the head of the table, and Bernie is in the seat to his right.
Immediately, I take the same seat I’d occupied during our last meeting, so that Huxley is forced to look directly across the table to meet my gaze. It puts both of us in positions of power, and I can see the vein in his temple twitch when he notices me. Bradley takes the seat next to his boss, not choosing sides. He doesn’t need to sit next to me for me to know he has my back.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” I start. “Seems like a strange time to hold a meeting.”
Huxley looks me in the eye, but his expression is a cool mask of indifference. Good poker face, I have to give him that. He doesn’t reveal whether he’s surprised or not that I’m here. It’s not a good sign, and I know not to trust him.
“Good morning, Bancroft,” Bernie says, leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry to call you in on a Saturday, but Huxley said this meeting couldn’t wait.”
“Oh, really? Then by all means, do tell.” I’m relaxed and confident that whatever this is, I’m not going to let Huxley get the best of me. I never allow myself to be rattled by what he does, and I won’t be this time.
“As you know, we’ve had numerous discussions about your future here at the company,” Bernie addresses me. “You’re an excellent worker, Bancroft, and your loyalty is greatly appreciated. The work you’ve done to expand our revenue is unparalleled, and I want you to know that your determination has not gone unnoticed.”
“But?” I ask.
“No but. I know you’ve been looking for more and it’s been discussed, and we’ve decided to give you more responsibility.”
I keep my emotions in check and my expression passive. On one hand, I’m satisfied that things are finally moving forward the way I want. However, considering the odd circumstances and Huxley’s chill demeanor, I’m on high alert.
“What do you have in mind?” I press.
“Obviously you’re aware of the Granger account?” He raises his brows.
The Grangers are a highly influential family throughout New England and even a few of the southern states. Their firm is a major player in new commercial construction areas. Our firm scored them as a client several months ago. And by our firm, I mean me and my team. It took two years of work to win that account, and as soon as they signed on to work with us, Huxley swept in and took it over. Needless to say, I was pissed.
Yet now Bernie has the nerve to ask if I’m aware of the account?
“Considering I was the one who worked on getting them to sign with us, I am aware of them,” I reply.
“Well, they have been adamant about wanting you on the account, to personally work with them. Up until now, major accounts like theirs are typically handled by the partners. We have decided to make an exception. Starting Monday, Granger Estates will be in your hands again.”
Translation: Huxley has fucked up in some way, and it’s now my job to fix it. It’s not the first time in the last several months. Bradley keeps me informed of mistakes he manages to overhear on his end of things—they all wear Huxley’s name. The partners have had to cover for him on at least three separate occasions.
I look at Huxley for any tell-tale signs that he’s fuming. He has to be. There’s no way he can’t be pissed that Bernie is taking the account away from him. But all I see is a smile and a relaxed stance.
No. I don’t trust it.
“Is there anything I need to know going in?” I continue questioning them.
“They have high demands for their renovation project,” Huxley says. “They recently bought a small chain of restaurants, and all of them need major construction and updating. Their timeline is short, and their budget extremely specific.”
There it is.
Short time frames with small budgets are nightmares to organize. Especially for highly involved clients who have specific needs and are already wary due to fuckups. No wonder Huxley isn’t mad that the account is being taken away from him. He doesn’t have to deal with the mess he’s caused. But that’s the major difference between us. He sees those types of clients as annoying—I see them as a challenge.
I never back down from a challenge.
“Great, can’t wait to get started,” I say. “Unfortunately, I can’t do so today, gentlemen. I have to leave right after this meeting. But I’ll do what I can from home and lay the groundwork for the transfer first thing Monday morning.”
“This is a big client,” Huxley suddenly jumps in. “The reason we’re having this meeting on a Saturday is that it can’t wait. I’m surprised you would delay getting to work on such an important client.”
Laughable. Huxley really thinks he can goad me into dropping everything to stay at work. He knows I have family obligations. Of course, he doesn’t know exactly what I have happening over the weekend since it isn’t any of his damn business. But if he wants to go that route, if he wants to try to make me look bad in front of Bernie, he’s in for a surprise.
For one thing, I put in more than enough work to deserve a weekend. Second, work doesn’t come before my aunt. The only reason I felt comfortable enough to leave her for an hour is that she always takes a nap after her flight, but mostly because Eden is with her.
“The reason why I have to leave is because my elderly aunt is visiting, possibly for the last time,” I announce. “I have someone staying with her at the moment, but I need to get back soon. The rest has to wait.”
I can feel the energy shift in the room. Bernie looks uncomfortable, and Huxley’s smile falters. “You could have told us,” Bernie says, shifting in his seat while absentmindedly running his hand through his thinning hair. “We could have rescheduled or done a remote meeting.”
“Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough time. I got the call about the meeting on my way back from the airport.”
At that, Bernie looks at Huxley sharply. “What is he talking about? I told you about this meeting two days ago.”
Two days ago? Bastard. Not telling me earlier about an important meeting is exactly the kind of shit I’ve come to expect from Huxley. It’s a good thing Bradley had called me to let me know the meeting was going on. Huxley probably wouldn’t have said anything at all.
“I swear I sent the message yesterday,” Huxley says. “Must be that new assistant you have. Shame, I thought she would work out well. You might want to rethink her position here. How many assistants would that be now? You go through them so fast it’s hard to keep track.”
All right. He wants to play dirty. Bastard is already on thin ice trying to throw me under the bus. His going after Eden is where I draw the line. I know with absolute certainty that if she had gotten that email before she’d left work, she would have immediately put it in my calendar, or at least told me about it when we’d gone to dinner.
He had sent the email after hours, knowing full well I wouldn’t see it in time.
“As you know, anything last minute like that should be CCed to me as well or sent directly to me. I have explained on multiple occasions that my assistants don’t work after hours or on weekends and therefore she would not have seen it until it was too late,” I inform him, keeping my voice calm and cool, yet glaring daggers at the asshole who sits across from me. “I will also say, she’s been working with us for a week already and has proven to be competent at her job.”
Huxley nods. “You are right, that was my mistake. I forgot about that.” He smiles. I can count on one hand the number of times Huxley has smiled at me that wasn’t a sneer or smirk.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m here and we’ve discussed what we needed to. Is there more or can I return to my guest?”
“Yes, of course,” Bernie says. “There was something else I wanted to go over, but the full details can wait.” He turns to Bradley. “Everhart, can you make sure to fill Bancroft in on the other items we discussed?”
Bradley gives a curt nod. “I will.”
“Enjoy your visit with your aunt,” Huxley throws out. “I’m sorry to hear that she isn’t feeling well. Please let us know if you need anything.”
What the hell is going on with him? He’s being way too nice and understanding, which is unlike him. I know he has to be pissed that his plan to keep me out of the meeting failed spectacularly. I’m sure he has something else up his sleeve.
Any other day I would have dived headfirst into work to stick it to Huxley. But my mind is preoccupied with Aunt Eleanor, and I’m anxious to text Eden to check in, announcing that I might need a bit longer than the promised hour, so she won’t have to worry. Without a word, I get up from the table, and Bradley follows me out of the room.
When we’re far enough away that we can’t be overheard, he says, “Well, that could’ve been worse.”
“I don’t trust anything that just happened in that conference room,” I tell him as we head toward my office to discuss our battle plan.
“Why? Huxley seemed pretty chill about the whole thing.”
“I know. When have you ever known Huxley to be chill about anything, unless he believed he had all the strings in his hands?”
“Fair point.”