Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Following a healthy dose of second-guessing Emily’s wisdom, Liz spent the rest of the evening third- and fourth-guessing it as well. After all, the decision to work with Carson was not one she took lightly, and Liz was nothing if not thorough.
But after a long night of tossing and turning, the only insight Liz had was that she seriously needed to schedule a massage to work on the stress knot in her upper back.
She called Arnold to discuss her updates and altered business plan, typed up a new NDA and an amendment to her contract, and texted Carson.
And now she was in one of the small meeting rooms at Arnold’s factory, freshly-signed paperwork in hand, still wondering if she finally lost her marbles, when Carson crutched in.
“Hey.”
Dammit. Just that one word along with his lazy grin, and certain downstairs portions of her body were already sitting up at attention. She crossed her legs in an attempt to put them in their place and gave him her best, bland business smile. “Hey.”
Yep. Good. Bland and business-y. She could do that.
Carson removed the messenger bag slung across his body and set it on the table. Then, with a wince and a controlled exhale, he eased into the chair across from her. “So, you really think working together is a good idea?”
Nope. Not one little bit. “Well, it was brought to my attention that the sooner we get this whole thing wrapped up, the sooner we can all move on with our lives.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
Liz widened her eyes, blinked, and splayed her hand across her chest. “Moi? Why would I want to do that?”
Carson sighed and rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.
Which was definitely not sexy.
“Liz—”
She held up her hand. “Look. I know you’d rather be anywhere but here, with me, but I really do think us working together is the fastest way to get this whole thing done.”
Carson studied her, holding eye contact for so long that Liz felt her cheeks flush. “Fine,” he said with a nod. Glancing around the room, he raised his eyebrows. “Nothing but the best, huh?”
Liz glanced around at the beadboard paneling that was probably installed in the seventies, the worn teal shag carpet from perhaps a decade later, and the more updated table and chair set she’d seen in numerous other office conference rooms over the past few years.
“Yeah, well, I don’t trust anyone at the inn not to throw a continuous stream of interruptions at us, and the office space I rent for client meetings wasn’t available this morning.
” There was no way in hell she was going to invite him to her place again. Not after what happened yesterday.
“That makes sense.” Carson flashed her another grin. “It feels good to have a change of pace. There’s only so much time I can spend cooped up in that room.”
Liz arranged her papers and computer while Carson pulled out his laptop and files from his bag. “But it’s okay, right? Your room?” Liz asked. While she was still peeved at Maya and Clem and whoever else may or may not be inhabiting the inn, she still wanted it to succeed.
“Oh, definitely. The place is awesome.”
“Good.”
“Maya and Clem have been nothing but helpful, and Davis seems like a cool dude.”
“Have yourself a little man crush, do you?”
“What? No. We just have a lot in common.”
“Riiight.” Dammit. Liz suppressed her grin. Now was not the time for teasing. “Let’s get this party started.”
“Sure.” Reaching into his bag once more, Carson pulled out a pair of glasses and slid them on.
The downstairs party kicked it up a notch. Liz swallowed. Hard.
Good God. She thought he was hot before. But those glasses took him from hot guy next door to hot professor. Add in the sudden burst of vulnerability that flashed across his face and what looked like a self-deprecating smile, and it was a wonder Liz’s underwear didn’t burst into flames.
“I know.” Carson wrinkled his nose and touched the frame of his glasses. “Getting old sucks.”
“Yeah.” Liz wasn’t sure how she managed to eke out the word, and she had to shake her head to get it back in the game. They’re just glasses. Half the world’s population wears them. Although she was fairly certain she’d never seen anyone wear them like that.
Gah!
Clearing her throat, Liz ripped her gaze from Carson and turned her attention to the spreadsheets in front of her. Focus, girl. The sooner you get this deal done, the sooner Carson and his sexy glasses get out of town. “So, I don’t know how far you’ve gotten in the analysis, but—”
“The business is in trouble,” Carson finished.
“Yeah.” Liz sagged into her seat, relieved that the words were out in the open.
Carson flipped through the papers in one of his folders. “I can’t believe he didn’t call someone in here sooner.”
Liz shrugged, biting back a wince when the motion aggravated her stress knot. “I can. I see it all the time. There’s a lot of denial that goes on, convincing yourself things are going to be okay.”
“Until they’re not.”
“Yep.” Liz kept her eyes carefully on her laptop, avoiding Carson and whatever hold he had over her hormones. “But at least your uncle finally did make a call.”
“Or two.”
A chuckle slipped out, and Liz glanced at Carson. Dammit! The glasses even accentuated the way the corners of his eyes scrunched when he grinned.
Pulling her focus back to her work, Liz continued. “I don’t have everything figured out yet, but it’s clear things have to change.”
“Amen to that.”
Good. At least they were on the same page.
“I have a five-step plan I put together, but so far step one isn’t working. I reached out to businesses who held Digit Defender contracts over the past five years. No takers. No new leads from similar businesses, either. Obviously, we’ve got to get the money flowing somehow.”
Carson nodded. “Exactly. I’ve been working through market reports. Doing some trend analysis.”
Huh. Maybe Arnold was right after all. Maybe it really would take the two of them to figure out how to save Crawford’s.
“Although we should also entertain the obvious possibility.” Carson removed his glasses, set them on the table, and leaned back in his chair.
The heat in Liz’s undergarments dropped a solid ten degrees. Thank God.
Liz cocked an eyebrow. “Which is?”
“Selling the company.”
Liz frowned. “Sure, that’s one option, but the new buyers will likely have the same issues.
The silicone finger protector business is a shrinking one.
The biggest orders were from teachers and office workers who used them to avoid getting paper cuts.
But with more and more things going digital, there’s less and less need to protect fingers.
We still have to come up with some sort of solution for that issue to put together a package for a potential buyer. ”
“Not if you sell the company for parts. Or move it overseas.”
“What?” It took all of Liz’s self-control not to jump out of her seat. “No. That is definitely not on the table.”
“I think it has to be.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Do you know how many people in this area work here? How much money this company brings to Cloverfield?”
Carson cocked his head. “Not nearly as much as it should. And nothing if it goes under.”
“True. But moving or selling it off piecemeal also hurts the town.” Not to mention her reputation. Liz visualized her chances for the En-Su consultant role going up in smoke if Carson’s solution came to pass.
“So?”
Liz scoffed. “So? I live here!”
“You’ll survive.”
“Yeah, but others might not. I love this town. We’ve got great things going on.”
“So you’ve said.”
Liz all but growled. “It’s charming, and you know it.” With a huff, she plastered her bland business smile back in place. “Besides, your uncle would never let what you’re proposing happen.”
“He would if there were no other options.”
“Well then, I guess we need to come up with better options.”
Carson scowled at Liz. Why was she being so bullheaded? She was in the business world. She knew how things worked. Businesses were born, businesses changed, and sometimes, businesses died. It was all part of the natural order of things.
Lucky for her, he was nothing if not persuasive.
While he wasn’t sure yet who might want to buy his uncle’s business, Carson was sure he could figure something out. Just like he was sure he would eventually get Liz to see things from his point of view.
Even if it meant playing nice longer than he initially expected.
Carson shrugged. “Fine.”
The tight set of Liz’s shoulders relaxed, and her expression melted into something much more pleasant. “Thank you.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her not to thank him yet, but he swallowed his retort. No need to antagonize her more than usual. Although he did have to admit the antagonizing was giving him more joy during his work day than he had in a very long time.
Carson gave his head a quick shake, trying to dislodge the wayward thought.
There was nothing here for him in Cloverfield.
His job was simple. Find a solution to Uncle Arnold’s problem and get the hell out of town.
Hell, if Dennis hadn’t messed up his leg, he would be back in D.C.
working on a solution for Crawford’s Manufacturing.
He still held out hope for a departure later today. Held out hope that he and Liz could hammer out some business details, his leg would calm the fuck down, and he would leave this place behind. Again.
“—and when you factor in the possibilities of overseas markets—”
“What overseas markets?” Dammit. Had she been talking this whole time?
The annoyance on Liz’s face said that yes, she had. The deep, controlled breath and the roll of her shoulders told him she was trying very hard not to let that annoyance morph into murder.
Carson grimaced. “Sorry.”
“You know what? No. You do not get to say sorry and get away with it. I expected better of you. Why? I have no idea. That’s probably on me. But you do not get to sit over there looking all sexy and broody while not listening to anything I have to say and then say sorry.”