Chapter 23
COURTNEY
Me: Have to work late. Night sesh?
I glance at the clock and for once wish I were the kind who could just shut it all down at five o’clock and bounce for the door. But even at two o’clock, I know that’s not in the cards today. This AgroStar work won’t be kept waiting, and I’m carefully checking each and every step multiple times.
Kaede: That’s ok, I need to wrap up some of this planning stuff and I’m exhausted. Can we hook up tomorrow?
Hook up? Did he just say hook up, like I’m some sort of booty call?
I take a deep breath, reminding myself not to freak out.
It’s a common enough phrase. Hell, it’s used in business emails.
But he has been kinda weird since the anniversary party last weekend.
We’ve had dinner every night and slept in bed together but haven’t had sex once.
It’s only Thursday, but things feel off.
It’s been a busy week for him, and for me too, hence the plan to work late. But my Spidey senses are tingling.
Me: Sure.
I don’t have time to mentally dig into that any further because Jillian comes in with the reports from the Andrews subsidiaries I asked for.
We get to work dissecting the facts and figures and plotting out the next phase of the AgroStar deal.
The PR team’s already got some great mockups of the print ads done, and they’ve identified a couple of Instagram celebs with proven track records as influencers.
Organic, guerilla-style marketing will be a prime tool for these products, giving a good ROI and internet buzz.
“So this guy, I did a little e-stalking of him,” Jillian says as she swipes through the next profile on her tablet. She takes her glasses off, one arm going into her mouth where she bites it. “Mmmhmm, come to Mama. Ooh, the thangs I could teach him.”
I hum, not even looking up, so Jillian slides her glasses back on and clicks right back into focus-mode.
“Research says he’ll do an Instagram post for basically the price of the product.
We send him a thirty-day supply of mom crack—I mean ‘the supplement’—and he’ll pimp the hell out of it.
Three posts over a fourteen-day period, natural looking placement and usage, not overdone sponsor-style. ”
“And his clout?”
“Half a million followers, mostly in the target audience reach,” Jillian notes.
“And he’s hot.” She holds the tablet up, waving it back and forth to get my attention.
I look up and see a young, blonde surfer type sitting shirtless in the sand and staring into a gorgeous sunset.
He probably has kefir for breakfast, broccoli smoothies that give him gas from hell, and wears ‘natural’ deodorant that leaves him smelling like sweat and patchouli after his daily yoga meditation.
I know hotter.
I sigh, rubbing my temples. I can’t get distracted, not even by Kaede. Not now. Things are going great with this campaign, but I can’t afford another misstep. This is going to be a sure-fire homerun for Andrews. I’ll make sure of it.
“Okay, prioritize the others and give me your top three. I’m going to run the print ads by Dad for approval,” I tell Jillian, getting up. “Be back in twenty or so.”
I head down the hall slowly, enjoying the leg stretch after sitting all day. Kaede might not be in for a late-night sesh, but maybe I’ll go for a short jog myself? My ass and my legs will thank me, that’s for sure. Otherwise, I’m going to sit at home and ruminate on what that text could’ve meant.
I’m lost in my own thoughts for a moment until I see something ahead that makes my gut flip-flop.
Missy. I’d know those legs and blonde Ariana Grande ponytail anywhere, not to mention the bordering on too-short skirt and too-high heels.
What is she doing here?
I keep my distance, following her as she seems to stalk the executive level, looking for something or someone.
At one point, she looks around and almost catches me.
I have to duck into an alcove to avoid her seeing me and barely make it.
Actually, I’m not sure I did make it. I pant, trying to think small thoughts and praying my ass isn’t sticking out of the tiny bump out in the wall.
I can just imagine . . . me like some gigantic bear trying to hide behind a skinny pole.
Maybe if you close your eyes, she won’t be able to see you?
It doesn’t work like that.
A minute and several steps later, her fast and me turtle-slow so as not to get busted, I walk past Kevin’s door.
He thinks I’m here to see him, maybe take him up on that coffee offer, and he stands, a big smile on his face.
But that drops instantly when I hold up a palm telling him to stop where he is.
“No,” is all I give him, too afraid I’m going to lose Missy in the maze of hallways.
I have to hustle to the corner, peeking around carefully to make sure she hasn’t stopped just out of my sight.
Has she seriously hunted me down over this whole Kaede thing? Surely not. Right?
The third time, I push it too far, ducking into what I think is an empty copy room but instead finding a very startled assistant. “Courtney . . . I mean, Miss Andrews!”
“Shh!” I whisper, glaring at her.
Her mouth claps shut, scolded as she ducks into her shoulders. “Sorry,” she mouths.
Shit. What am I doing?
“Can I help you?” she mouths again.
I remember something important.
I am Courtney Andrews, Ice Queen.
I straighten my back and clip out, “Can I have the room, please?”
“The copy room?” the assistant asks, looking around in confusion, probably thinking I’m about to take photocopies of my ass or meet someone for a clandestine office quickie.
I lift my brow pointedly. I do not answer. Ice Queens don’t need to.
“Uhm . . . okay. I’ll go get some coffee. It’ll take a while for my copies to collate and staple.”
As soon as I’m alone, I sag and freak out. I pull out my phone, texting Kaede quickly.
Me: Need to talk. Emergency.
Two minutes later and approximately five peeks down the hallway, and I’ve gotten no response. But I do know exactly where Missy went . . .
Dad’s office.
Fuck. What do I do? Calm down and think, Courtney. Be rational.
As if I can do that when Missy’s here! And in there with Dad! Shit, shit, shit!
Oh, the angel and devil are arguing again. Great, just great.
I could go into Dad’s office, big as daylight and twice as badass, and ask. But that might ruin Ross and Kaede’s deal with Sanders if I’m aggressive. And it would make Dad wonder as well. I’m not in the habit of barging into his office mid-meeting to demand answers from anyone.
Or I could go in and act surprised. Oh, Missy! What a surprise! Kiss-kiss. But that’s showing my hand in the middle of the game. Not smart.
Maybe it’s nothing or about something completely different.
Dad does mentor young business students .
. . nope, doesn’t fit since she’s not a student.
He donates to causes, so maybe she’s trying to get him to sponsor the 5K event?
But Ross doesn’t want that, would never allow it, and Dad has been encouraging Ross to step out on his own, so there’s no way they’d cross lines like that now.
Money. I keep coming back to that because other than Kaede, it’s Missy’s focus. Dad’s got money, not in the same realm as Jeffrey, but they might be working on a deal together that I don’t know about? One that Missy is presenting?
But that doesn’t seem right, either. Missy might be smarter than she lets on, but she’s not the kind who’d work hard enough to make a presentation worthy of my father’s time, though she might get an appointment on her name alone.
I’ve been so deep into AgroStar, is it possible there’s something in the works for another department, maybe with one of the other execs up here? No . . . I would’ve seen something in the weekly updates. The name ‘Sanders’ or ‘Tillman’ would set off big, huge alarms for me.
I check my phone again, but Kaede hasn’t responded.
Maybe he’s on the floor and his phone’s on silent?
I doubt it. He’s avoiding you and you know it.
Shut up! I have to do something. Fine. I have to tell Ross.
My hand shakes a little as I wait for Ross to pick up, and I’m just about to hang up and try the front desk of the gym and have both Kaede and Ross paged when he picks up. “Hey, Court, what’s up?”
“Missy’s here. At the office.”
I can hear Ross sit up, his feet banging on the floor, or maybe it’s his elbows on the desk. “She’s where?”
“Here! At the office! In Dad’s office!” I whisper loudly. “She was walking around the executive floor like a bloodhound searching for an escapee. I thought she was looking for me, but she went into Dad’s office. I don’t know why, but something’s rank in Denmark. What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing,” Ross says. “Not yet. I need to think and talk to Kaede. What’d he say when you told him?”
It’ll only hit me later that Ross assumed I called, or tried to call, Kaede first. But right now, it flies over my head as I peek down the hallway. “He didn’t answer so I called you.”
“I’ll handle it. Don’t do anything. Go back to your office and let me handle it, Court.”
Ross hangs up, and I peek down the hall. No blonde bimbos in sight, so I hurry to my office, where Jillian looks up in surprise. “You’re back fast. Morgan not there?”
I ignore her question and put the files I’ve been holding on her desk. I lean into my palms. “Jillian, I need you to do something for me.”
Bless her, she sees the stress on my face, the tension in my eyes, because she doesn’t flinch at all. “Anything.”
This is crazy. And Ross told me he’d handle it. But maybe Abi was onto something—tell me not to do something and I’m sure as hell going to do it if it’ll help someone I care about.
I wish I could do it myself, but I need help. It’s the only way to pull this off. Luckily, Jillian’s fuchsia lips are tighter than Fort Knox and I know I can trust her, no matter how nuts this is going to sound. “I need you to take these to my dad’s office for approval and signatures.”
“Okay,” Jillian says, reaching for the files, but I slap my hand over top, cutting her off sharply, and she snatches her hand back.
“There’s more.”
Now comes the weird part. Jill nods, eyes wide and locked on me.
“I want you to sit in the outer office with Dad’s assistant.
Gossip and keep an eye out. If she asks, tell her I asked you to wait because I need the signatures today.
” When Jillian nods, I continue, lowering my voice.
“There is a woman in his office. Blonde bimbo type, Ariana Grande ponytail.” Jillian’s eyes narrow, and I can read her mind.
“Not like that. But I want to know what they’re talking about.
Are they friendly or adversarial? Any intel you can get about what she’s up to without being obvious. ”
“Who is she?” Jillian asks, her voice at a near whisper.
“Missy Tillman, Jeffrey Sanders's daughter.”
Jillian’s eyebrow lifts. She knows the name. “Jeffrey Sanders, as in the billionaire investor? I didn’t know he had a daughter.”
I nod once, sharply. “Sanders, as in Ross and Kaede’s investor. Be discreet. Nothing obvious, but I need to know what the hell she’s up to because it can’t be anything good.”
Jillian grins. “Ooh, I like Secret Spy Courtney. I won’t do you wrong.
” She gives me a half-ass salute and stands, straightening her skirt and putting what I assume is her game face on.
“You know us EAs are ninjas around the office when we want to be. People like that don’t even realize we exist unless it’s to order us around.
Even then, we don’t register. We’re invisible. ”
While I get what she’s saying, Jillian is not invisible. Ever.
She’s wearing black today, but there’s nothing ninja about her outfit.
Her black pencil skirt has tufts of white tulle gathered around the hem, her black sweater has a chunky diamond rhinestone collar that could blind you if the florescent lights hit it right, and her pale white legs are covered in black lace hosiery.
She stands out in a crowd and is extremely memorable.
But I have to hope that the unusual appearance will at least make her seem nonthreatening.
“Thank you, Jill. I owe you one.” I give her a nod, and Jillian preps for her mission, peeking out the door before walking out.
I risk a glance after her, seeing her stomp down the hall like a woman on a mission. She stumbles badly, almost falling, but she catches herself against the wall with a loud thud. She straightens her glasses, which have gone askew from the near-miss, and looks back to flash me a thumbs-up.
I smile, giving her a thumbs-up too before collapsing against the wall in her office. I look up, praying that this works and she finds out something, anything helpful.
She’s a hell of an assistant, but despite her bragging, she’s a shitty spy.
I’ll never tell her that part, though. She’s got guts, and she’s right, Missy will probably just dismiss Jillian on sight.
I look at my phone, debating whether I should text Kaede again. But he hasn’t answered me yet. Maybe I’ll let Ross handle that part.
Maybe I should change my name to Coward Courtney.