Chapter 6 #2
“Uh, I’m grateful to be representing Alarie Inc. today and presenting on our upcoming investment strategies but I can’t speak on recent ethics investigations.”
Better. Nate sounded a little more natural, but it still wasn't what they needed.
Connor shook his head.
“Again.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with that answer,” Nate said, clearly frustrated. But he handled it well, lacing his fingers together as he turned back to Connor, waiting for his feedback.
“You’re washing your hands of the problem,” Connor explained, setting his notebook down at his desk, leaning back in his chair.
“You need to show accountability, stability, but also that you can't be cowed by their questions. The people who come to these conferences, they’re like sharks and they’ll smell your blood in the water like you’re a dying tuna. ”
“That’s dark.” Nate tugged at his tie, loosening it as he paced. “It makes me sound like I’m prey.”
“No, it’s about using your words. Better situation than being prey,” Connor said matter-of-factly.
“Still prey, even if I'm being a lawyer about it,” Nate pointed out.
“Call it what you want. Again. We’ve got-” Connor checked his watch, “Fifteen more minutes before you need to meet with Grumman Investing. Try again. What are your goals in light of recent ethics committee investigations of the board of directors?”
“All I can say is Alarie Inc. is grateful to be standing among giants of the consulting industry here in beautiful Orange County.”
“Jesus Christ.” Connor didn't mean to let it slip, but he couldn’t help it. That was Nate's worst attempt yet. Still, he tried to recover, tried to play it off, if only because he knew what it would do to Nate’s confidence if he didn’t. “Okay, less pandering. Again.”
“Four times? Really? You’re more like a drill sergeant than an assistant at this point,” Nate grumbled.
Connor just arched an eyebrow at him, unyielding.
“Call me whatever you want. We’ll do this over and over again until you give me something workable.”
Nate swiped Connor’s notebook off his desk, faster than he could respond to block him.
And what was he supposed to do after that, get up and take it from him?
Connor just rolled his eyes, resting his chin against a hand while Nate flipped through the pages of questions he’d prepared in neat and tidy writing.
“Since you think it’s so easy, here. What can you say about recent rumors from the board of directors on Lou Simmons’ impending departure?”
“That we at Alarie Inc. are not at liberty to discuss rumors at this time, but we’re grateful for Lou Simmons’ long career representing Alarie Inc.
’s interests on the board of directors, including the many relationships he’s helped us build throughout the industry.
” Connor drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment, considering a nice way to tie it off.
“He truly represents the best of us and we’re thrilled to see what the future holds. ”
Simpering? Sure, but it was PR-approved.
More than that, it was hard not to feel a little smug–at least for a moment.
When he was a kid, he’d been the type to gloat over something like that.
A correctly answered math question, an easily won game of chess.
And while Connor liked to think he’d grown a bit more since then, he wore a small smirk as Nate bit the inside of his cheek, clearly annoyed.
“Lucky you, I was nice and gave you an easy one.”
“It’s easy to ace the test when you wrote the questions,” Connor pointed out before gesturing for Nate to return his notebook.
For what it was worth, Nate relented without pushback, passing it back before circling around his desk, fiddling at his tie again. He must have been more worried about this conference than he was trying to let on.
Connor felt like he was starting to get better at reading Nate's moods.
He didn’t comment as Nate circled him again, not like a wolf on the hunt but like a cat looking for somewhere to be. And when he stopped, he leaned his weight against Connor’s desk, peering over his notebook. Close enough that Connor could smell his cologne, though he pretended he didn’t.
Whatever it was Nate wore, it was nice. Not too strong. Darker than sandalwood, muskier than patchouli.
Expensive suits, expensive cologne, and the genetic lottery of good looks combined couldn’t save Nate from himself if Connor wasn’t able to fix this.
Even an old dog could learn to sit and stay. He just needed to teach Nate how to speak.
“Maybe you had an idea there,” Connor suggested, glancing back at his watch. They still had a few minutes, and there was no sense in wasting time. “Learn by example. You question me, I’ll give you non-answers, we’ll try again after lunch and see if that helps.”
For what it was worth, Nate seemed to consider that, stroking his jaw as he looked back at Connor.
“Alright. If you’re playing along,” he said, a mischievous smile finding its way to his lips.
Nate leaned past Connor to pick his notebook up, their arms brushing as he did.
“If you call getting you prepared so you don’t sink us both “playing along”, then sure, I’m playing along,” Connor said cooly. He didn’t want to think about how his arm still felt warm where Nate had brushed him.
“Ouch.” Nate mimed being shot through the heart, a hand pressed to his chest. “Have a little faith in me, will you? I’m only learning from the best here, after all.”
“Quit trying to flatter me and start reading,” huffed Connor. Not the first time Nate had said something like that to him. Part of him wished he wouldn’t say things like that at all–but not even Connor could say he disliked the attention.
He’d take it, this praise he knew he deserved.