5. Dominic
Chapter 5
Dominic
I slap my hand on the table, irritation burning through me as I stare down the other two from across the table.
“We are not doing that,” I growl, narrowing my eyes.
“Dominic, will you just listen?” Xavier asks. “I know it seems like taking a step backward?—”
“Because it is taking a step fucking backward. If we give in to this, they’ll expect us to bend over backward for every stupid request they have for the rest of this contract. I’m not letting them run all over us.”
“That’s not what this is,” Tristan puts in, his voice quiet and even as usual.
“Then what the fuck is it?” I demand.
Xavier shrugs. “It’s giving a little to get a lot more. We get their faith in us for adhering to a couple stupid requests, and it means they’ll be more likely to take our advice later on. There’s something to be said for keeping your clients happy, Dom.”
“Don’t call me that. All this is going to do is make them think we’ll do every stupid thing they want going forward. I’m not setting that precedent.”
“Compromise,” Tristan cuts in. “You’re going to have to do it sometimes.”
“Thank you,” Xavier says, nodding. “Did you really never give a little to your clients before the merger?”
I haven’t been thinking in terms of ‘before the merger’ and ‘after the merger’ before this, but every time I get into a fight with the other two thirds of this company, something in me really misses the way things used to be.
It was easier then. I could lay down the law as I wanted it to be, and most people fell in line. Or were able to be convinced to listen to me eventually. Some people couldn’t handle it, and those people didn’t last long with the company. We were better for it.
Now with the three of us doing this together, there’s more of a check and balances sort of system in place. No one of us can make decisions for the whole without running it past the others, but too often Xavier and Tristan seem to align on what they want, while I’m the one on the other side of the table, arguing for using good sense.
From a business standpoint, the merger was a smart move. No other tech firm in the country is as all-encompassing as Vantage Digital Systems is right now. We brought our strengths together to form something that no one else can even touch.
Xavier brought his cyber security knowledge and clients, Tristan brought his knowledge of the cloud and setting up those systems for our clients, and I brought my innovation and efficiency in providing software and solutions to this venture. It’s been advantageous for the three of us, making us more money and bringing in more clients than we ever could have alone, but at the same time, it’s been a struggle.
It’s been just this back and forth almost constantly. All three of us are used to being in charge, so it makes us butt heads. There’s no laying down the law, saying this is how it’s going to be, because that’s not how this works anymore.
It grates on me sometimes. Like now.
“I didn’t have to,” I fire back to Xavier. “When I told a client how it was going to be, they listened and thanked me for my input.”
Tristan and Xavier share a look, and I grit my teeth, irritation prickling under my skin.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Xavier asks.
“Look at each other like I’m being unreasonable. Before this merger, my business ran just fine. If I lost clients, it was a good thing because I probably didn’t want to deal with them anyway. You don’t gain anything by keeping on clients who aren’t going to listen. They can go somewhere else where they’ll be catered to the way they want and ultimately end up disappointed with the work.”
Xavier sighs, rubbing at his face. “That’s not the point though, Dominic. We don’t want to get a reputation for being unwilling to hear our clients out. They want to feel like they’re a part of the process.”
“If they want to be a part of the process, then they should learn to do what we do themselves. They can be a part of whatever they want then.”
“This is going nowhere,” Tristan says, standing up. “I’ll delay the client for now, but we will have to make a decision.”
Xavier nods, and I just huff a breath. They’ll get their way on this one, since it’ll be two to one in favor of bending so far that we might as well snap ourselves in half for this client. I roll my shoulders, trying not to take it personally.
It’s just business, but it always is.
“Fine,” I say and storm out of the conference room back down to my office.
I bring up some of the in progress projects and work on them for a bit, trying to shake off the argument and clear my head. It’s easier said than done, and the problem is that we keep having this same argument over and over again, just about different things.
An email pops up on my notifications, and I tab out to read it. And of course, it’s from the clients we were just arguing about, and of course it’s them asking for more impossible shit that they know nothing about.
I have half a mind to just forward the email to Tristan and Xavier and let them deal with it. Let them figure out how to move mountains for clients who don’t even understand what goes into the work at all.
There’s a light knock on my door and then it opens. The new assistant, Penelope, pokes her head in.
“Mr. Harrington? I have that file you were asking for this morning.”
I grunt at her, gesturing for her to come in.
She pushes the door all the way open and comes inside, carrying a thick file.
I let my eyes go back to the email, trying to think of the best way to respond to this and debating not responding at all. That would be unprofessional though, and would just lead to another blow up with the other two Alphas. I don’t have time for that.
Irritation burns under my skin, making me hot under the collar. I hate being caught between things like this. I hate that I can’t just make a decision and have that decision stand.
Penelope’s scent is there in my nose, sweet and warm, like an iced cupcake, and it sets my teeth on edge that she’s here while I’m trying to work through what I want to do.
“Does it take five minutes to set down a file or are you just that bad at the job?” I snap at her, like second nature.
I see the second her eyes widen with alarm, and she yanks back from my desk, her hip checking the corner and knocking over my mostly empty cup of coffee.
It hits the carpet with a dull thud, spilling the last dregs as it does.
“Oh no,” Penelope moans. She claps her hands over her mouth, looking at the spreading stain in horror. “I’m so sorry. I- I can fix it. I’ll clean it up.” She looks around, like she’s trying to find paper towels or something.
I wave her off. “Just leave it. I don’t need you flapping around my office like an anxious bird when I’m trying to get work done.”
If she hears me, there’s no sign of it. She picks up the coffee cup and goes for the box of tissues on my desk, using them to sop up the coffee before it can sink even more into the carpet.
“At least it’s dark carpet,” she mutters, seemingly to herself. “Maybe it won’t stain too bad?”
I sigh, lifting my eyes to the ceiling. I should make Xavier get in here and deal with this, since he’s the one who hired her, but instead I get up and pull a stack of napkins from my desk, bending down to help her.
“Stop that,” I tell her, still sounding short. “You’re just going to get wet tissue all over the carpet. These are better.”
I press some napkins to the damp spot, letting them do their work.
Penelope’s eyes flash up to meet mine, and I’m struck by the fact that they’re two different colors. If I noticed that when we met the first time, or any time I’ve passed her in the halls here, I don’t remember.
On someone else they might look odd, but the dark green and deep blue work in her heart shaped face somehow.
A blush spreads across her cheeks, and she looks flustered and embarrassed to be in this position.
“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I really didn’t mean to. And then I didn’t mean to make it worse.” There’s something in her voice, a twinge of an accent that sounds Southern. “Please don’t fire me. I… I really need this job, and…”
Her voice fades to the background as I scan her face. Her soft, round cheeks, the way her hair falls into her eyes a bit from the way she’s crouched down on the floor. On her cheek, there’s a small, pink mark, half covered by makeup.
I don’t know what makes me do it, but I reach out, wiping away some of the makeup to reveal it fully. It could be a scar or a birthmark, just a mark on her face that makes her stand out even more, just like her eyes do.
Her cheeks go even redder and she licks her lips nervously. “It’s just a birthmark,” she says. “I usually cover it with makeup.”
“You shouldn’t,” I tell her.
She stares at me, like she’s not sure what to say, and I just look back, taking her in. The moment holds, stretching for a beat and then two. Then three.
Then I shake myself and rise to a standing position.
Penelope hurries to follow, brushing her clothes off and smoothing down her skirt with nervous hands. I follow the motion with my eyes, watching the way her palms skim over her ample hips, drawing attention to her shape.
And then I snap my eyes back up to her face.
“You’re not fired,” I tell her. “If I fired every assistant who spilled something in this building, we’d be doing all the admin work ourselves.”
Penelope nods, looking like she’s about to burst. “Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Harrington. You don’t know?—”
“Just don’t break my stuff,” I cut in before she can get started. “Or ruin my carpet. Be more careful when you’re in here, little bird.”
She startles at that, a half smile spreading over her face. “I’ll try.”
There’s something about it. About the way it lights up her eyes and makes her cheeks glow. It catches me off guard, and something in me thrills at the thought that I put that smile there.
Maybe being this close to her scent is affecting me. Vanilla, lemon, lavender, like a confection to sink your teeth into.
I don’t know what to do with that thought.
“I know you’re busy,” she says, edging toward the door. “So I’ll get out of your hair. Thank you again for being so understanding, Mr. Harrington.”
“Leave the door open,” I tell her, crossing to go back to my desk.
The email is still there, waiting for me to address it. I’d almost rather deal with the distraction of Penelope than these clients.
I hear her heels on the floor outside, and I look up just in time to see Parker, one of the junior developers, leaning against the wall and talking to Penelope before she passes.
“How are you settling in?” he asks her. “It can be hectic around here.”
Penelope smiles at him, and I can see the gleam in his eye from here. “I’m getting there,” she says. “Learning something new every day and trying not to embarrass myself mostly.”
“I don’t think you could do anything embarrassing,” Parker tells her, leaning in a bit more. “But if you need someone to show you around the office and tell you all the secrets, I’d be happy to.”
There’s no mistaking his tone, and there’s that flash of irritation again. Stronger now, but it had plenty to build on from the morning I’ve been having.
“Parker,” I growl, glaring out my office door. Both he and Penelope jump, but only she looks a bit guilty. “Ms. Dalton has a job to do. And so do you, so I suggest you go do it.”
“Yes, sir,” Parker mumbles, pushing off from the wall and hurrying off.
Penelope glances at me, her eyes unreadable for a split second, and then she smiles quickly and scurries off to do her own job.
At least back at her desk, there won’t be junior developers sniffing around her, trying to distract her from what she’s here to do. It’s not like she’s their assistant, after all.
My computer pings with a message, and I huff an annoyed breath before going to open it. If it’s a follow up email from these clients, I’m firing them, and Tristan and Xavier can deal with the fall out.
But no, it’s a message in the private work chat between the three of us and the board. Marked urgent.
Nothing good ever comes with the urgent marker.
When I scan the message and see that an emergency board meeting has been called, I know I was right. Usually board meetings have more notice than—I check the clock—ten minutes. Whatever they want to talk about, I have the sinking feeling I’m not going to like it.
The problem is, I have no idea what they want to discuss that’s so urgent. Last I checked there were no major issues, no fires to put out. But maybe there’s something that hasn’t been brought to my attention yet.
The thought of that pisses me off, and I sigh, pushing back from the desk to head to the conference room and see what the hell this is about
Tristan and Xavier get off the elevator a minute or two after I do, and we gather in front of the conference room.
They both look as confused as I feel, which is something of a relief. At least I’m not the only one out of the loop here.
“Nothing about ‘emergency board meeting’ sounds good,” Xavier says. “These things usually come with a lot more notice. And a lot more fanfare. I don’t like this.”
“I want to know what the emergency is,” I mutter.
“One way to find out,” Tristan replies, nodding to the door.
We walk in together, an unconscious show of force that probably won’t do anything to either impress or intimidate the board. We might be the CEOs of this company, but they’re the shadowy force behind it all, pulling strings and reminding us constantly to think about the investors and the shareholders. We had more wiggle room when we had our own companies that were smaller, with less oversight. But now it feels like we’re always answering to the fucking board.
All four of them are sitting around the table when we walk in, dressed up in their fancy business clothes, trying to intimidate us right back.
“Good morning,” Xavier says, walking around the table to take a seat. He’s all good humor, smiling as he settles in. “To what do we owe the honor of this sudden meeting?”
Stephan, the older of the four of them, the one with the most weight to throw around, clears his throat. “We decided it was finally time for us to make our concerns known,” he says.
“Concerns about what?” I ask, dropping into a chair with a frown. “It can’t be with the work. We’re doing the work, and our clients are happy.”
“Happy clients aren’t the whole picture of a successful company,” Oliver, one of the others says. He smooths his fingers over his mustache. “There are also the investors to think of.”
I can see Xavier fighting the urge to roll his eyes, and he just turns his smile up a notch to compensate. Tristan’s face is as unreadable as ever, and he doesn’t say anything, arms folded as he watches the board from across the table.
“Are the investors complaining?” I ask.
“Not as yet,” Stephan replies. “But they have noticed your constant battles for dominance.”
Spoken like a Beta, trying to pigeonhole us with stereotypes about Alphas.
“We don’t do dominance battles. And especially not in the office,” I grit out, trying not to sound as agitated as I feel.
“You clash.” Bridget, an older woman with her hair pulled back into a severe bun, speaks up. “You argue often, and it has been noticed. By us and by the investors. The three of you nearly got into a screaming match at the last fundraiser.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” Tristan says.
The four of them exchange a glance. “Barely,” Oliver shoots back. “The point is this merger is about more than three companies coming together. The three of you need to be seen as a unit. Stronger together. More profitable together. Otherwise the investors will put their money elsewhere.”
Xavier leans forward, making eye contact with Oliver. “It’s been an adjustment, I’ll admit that. But that comes with the territory. You can’t expect three people with headstrong personalities and three different ideas about how to do the job to just magically become a cohesive unit. We’re working on it and getting better every day. That has to be enough for the investors.”
Neither Tristan or I say anything about the fight that we just had this morning, but I know we’re both thinking about it.
“It isn’t,” Bridget says bluntly. “And frankly, whatever progress you’re making isn’t being made fast enough. The investors aren’t going to wait around for you to work out your issues. They need reassurance that this company isn’t going to fold and they’ll lose all their money in the process. You are not working hard enough to give them that reassurance.”
“Then what do you want us to do?” I demand. “What will be enough to?—”
Get you off our fucking backs ? I finish internally. But I don’t say that. Instead, I take a breath and ask, “What will be enough to convince them we’re serious about this merger?”
Peter, the last member of the board, finally clears his throat and joins the conversation. “You are, for all intents and purposes, a pack now, whether you wanted to be or not. And you need something to bond you. Something that will show everyone that you are serious about working together. Like a mate, for instance.”
I frown, feeling like I am not going to enjoy where this is going. “What are you suggesting?”
Oliver smiles, and that’s the final nail in the fucking coffin. “We’re suggesting you get married.”