Chapter 5 #2
“The whole city just looked straight out of a movie. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, I must have biked twenty miles that day. My roommate said I’d hate trying to park out there so I ended up borrowing his bike for the day.”
Nate was doing that thing he often did, where he talked, and talked, and talked, often up to an hour if Connor let him keep going.
And he really could, like perhaps he didn’t have anyone to talk to outside of Alarie.
Still, the mention of a roommate gave Connor pause, frowning into his laptop screen.
For what they likely paid Nate, he should be able to afford to live just fine on his own in Irvine. Even Connor managed that with a tight budget.
He almost asked about it, but the heavy office door opened without so much as a warning knock, Berkshire stepping inside and letting it slam shut behind him.
“Nathan. Exactly who I wanted to see. Two o’clock in Tustin, you’ll be attending a client luncheon with me. Largest architectural firm in Orange County, and I want them to meet the man keeping our investors happy,” Berkshire said, clapping Nate on the shoulder.
“Oh, I–yes.” Nate’s expression was almost childlike for a moment, dark eyes beaming before he composed himself. “Yes, of course. I’d love to–”
“Family owned business, forty years, this client,” Berkshire continued, blowing past whatever it was Nate had planned on saying. “You’ll be meeting the son of the CFO. I think it’s important they see just how much our firms have in common.”
And like that, Berkshire managed to accomplish the impossible. He stunning Nate into silence, an almost too hopeful expression on his executive’s face that twisted at Connor’s insides.
Caught in the middle like this, between the door and Nate’s desk, he could only try his best to disappear by becoming one with his chair, eye contact with his laptop entirely unbroken. How childish of him, thinking that so long that if he didn’t see them, then they wouldn’t see him, either.
“And who knows what could result from a successful client meeting, Nathan. Things to keep in mind,” Berkshire added, arching an eyebrow at Nate.
“Of course,” he replied in a hushed voice, like he didn’t dare hope what he was so clearly hoping for.
Maybe it was last night’s dinner coming back to haunt him, the way his stomach twisted. He couldn’t say why, but he felt uneasy.
Was it jealousy?
Connor chalked it up to that. None of this had anything to do with him, after all. The work Berkshire pulled Nate into wasn’t any of Connor’s business.
But all the same, that disquieted feeling didn’t fade.
He did his best to ignore the rest of their conversation–and that feeling in his stomach–until Berkshire said something that had the hairs standing up at the back of his neck.
“Before I leave, I’m sure you won’t mind signing these disclosures." It wasn’t a question, and Berkshire’s hand on Nate’s shoulder looked more like a grip than a fatherly gesture.
“Disclosures?”
“Yes, just acknowledgements of reappropriations. Nothing for you to worry about.” The way he said it sounded like a blaring car alarm to Connor, smooth as honey over warm toast.
Under no circumstances should Nate be signing anything without careful review, but this wasn’t a conference call where Connor could clear his throat and surreptitiously shake his head just off screen. He couldn’t interrupt their meeting. He knew better than that.
But Nate wasn’t a fool. He wasn’t dumb. And by some miracle, he was the one to push back all on his own.
“Oh–would you mind if I just take a second and–” Nate tried to stall, moving to take the clipboard from his hands.
But Berkshire cut in with all the sharpness of a knife.
“It’s imperative we return this to legal as soon as we can,” he said icily, his tone just biting enough for Nate’s shoulders to slump.
“Of course. I understand,” Nate replied in a quiet voice, not pushing back.
Connor’s gaze snapped up just in time to see Berkshire pass Nate a clipboard, one he had clearly brought up with him for this purpose.
He didn't miss the way Nate’s hand trembled as he grabbed a stray pen off his desk and signed away.
Form after form, pages flipping, Nate's pen scribbling against the sheets until Berkshire was satisfied, clapping him on the back.
“That’s why I've got you here. We don't need to waste time when ours is so valuable, Nathan.”
“Of course. I'm happy to be here.”
“And don’t forget, you’ll be speaking at the conference at the end of this month,” Berkshire added without pausing to acknowledge what Nate had said. “‘Alarie, Investing in the Future’ is the theme. Build your presentation around that.”
“Conference? I don’t think–this is the first I’m hearing of–” Nate stammered.
“That damn assistant of yours,” Berkshire muttered darkly, and Connor’s grip on his mouse tightened. His stomach started to work itself into knots, surreptitiously stealing a glance at the two of them over his laptop screen. “This is what I’ve been telling you–”
What he'd been telling him?
Sweat trickled down the back of Connor’s neck. He was being blamed. But he didn’t let more than a few seconds slip by before he started scrolling through his email with all the single-minded intent of a seal fleeing a shark.
Manage it, handle it, solve it.
Look for the conference invite.
But there was nothing new, nothing unexpected. Everything there, he’d seen before.
The weekly financial projections, the recent statement PR had put out regarding the rumors surrounding Simmons’ departure–“While Alarie Inc. can neither confirm nor deny the employment status of high-profile staff, we are grateful for Lou Simmons’ contributions to the foundation of Alarie throughout his long career”–invites to the usual investor meetings, but nothing about a conference.
Connor even checked his spam and trash folders, but sure enough, nothing.
Not in his inbox, and certainly not in Nate’s.
But that wouldn’t matter to someone like Berkshire, and he couldn't risk handing Nate any kind of weapon against him.
Maybe on his own, Nate wouldn't use it, but backed into a corner? He was capable of anything. They all were.
Still, Connor didn't accept his defeat so easily. His first plan of action was to send an IM to Junie. Then, he sent a second IM to Liam Reyes, the kid he met in the elevator only a few weeks prior.
They hadn’t talked since their first meeting, but maybe he knew something Connor didn’t. Ronaldo never passed up an opportunity to flaunt her department’s successes, and chances were he already knew about this conference.
“This will be your opportunity to court new investors. You speak their language. That’s why you’re here,” Berkshire continued on, moving the topic of discussion back to his expectations of Nate.
“Of course. That’s not gonna be a problem.”
Connor grimaced behind his screen, knowing he couldn't help with this. Nate was going to have to learn on his own that opportunities at Alarie were rarely just that. This had to be a test.
“We’re scheduling an unscripted Q&A and I expect you’ll be the one to lead it. With Simmons being unavailable as he transitions out, you’ll need to answer questions about him on the record.”
“I can handle that,” Nate said. “I’ve been handling investor questions about Simmons already, and we–I’m confident I can, uh, showcase some stability.”
His voice wavered, betrayed by his own anxieties. It was an opening and Berkshire pounced, rounding him with a dismissive shake of his head.
“They’re looking for more than that, Nathan,” he cut in. “Have you been listening to what I'm saying? My expectations are clear.”
Connor didn’t catch everything he said as an IM alert came in from Liam.
Yeah, the conference got announced today, he wrote. I’ll send you the invite.
A moment later, his email pinged as Connor received the invite that had initially been sent to Maria Ronaldo.
That was fine. He could work with this.
Thanks, Connor sent back to Liam.
No problem. You helped me out with the tip about Tan, came Liam’s message. Subtle enough. So he was capable of discretion after all.
Connor decided he didn't dislike this kid.
Glad to hear he cleared those forms for you, he sent back before signing off.
“Certain parties are going to have a vested interest in what we have to say. Mind the importance of optics when you’re representing Alarie Inc,” he heard Berkshire continuing. Well past the point of starting to lecture Nate, his voice boomed in their office suite.
Talk about emasculating. Connor couldn’t imagine having to grow up with that.
“That’s not going to be a problem,” Nate replied stiffly.
“I know it won’t be. I’d like to see a preview of your presentation by the end of this week, Nathan.”
Funny how he could make an invitation sound so threatening.
“Of course. I’ll send it by Friday.” Nate sounded like he was trying to claw back some of his charismatic confidence from where it had cowered away. It was almost admirable how quick he was to pick himself back up after getting knocked on his back.
Almost, because he’d probably take fewer punches from Berkshire if he just stayed down.
“I’m also going to be sending you some additional forms, I’d like your signature back on these as soon as possible,” Berkshire added, mowing right past Nate’s assurances.
From his desk, Connor found himself glancing over at the two of them, not meaning to eavesdrop, though something prickled at the back of his neck.
“I–yes, I’ll review those and-”
“No, that’s already been done. I need your signature. Are you able to handle that?”
“Yes, sir,” Nate replied, weary, exhausted.
Broken down in a way far too familiar for Connor to want to spend a single moment witnessing.
Berkshire left without much more than that, only throwing a glare in Connor's direction on his way out. But he’d faced worse than that, his jaw set as he considered the email in front of him.