Chapter 24 Pierce
PIERCE
The office air feels different after New York. Or maybe it’s the four walls of my office that feel suffocating after the freedom I’ve experienced over the last week.
Through the glass, I watch Thatcher organize papers at his desk. He’s back to being his old chaotic self, but when he stops to adjust the collar on his shirt, I catch a glimpse of a mark my mouth left there.
A chime from my computer draws my attention fully to the screen, the sender’s name making my shoulders tense automatically. James. The subject line—Merger Meeting—is enough to put my guard up. My jaw clenches as I open the message, already anticipating its contents.
My phone buzzes with a text from Thatcher.
Thatcher:
Missing our hotel breakfast. Though I have to admit, watching you in full corporate mode is its own kind of delicious
The message makes heat pool in my stomach, despite my attempts at professional distance, at least in the office. Before I can respond, another text arrives.
Thatcher:
Seriously, though, you okay? You seem tense this morning.
His concern makes my chest ache as I type a careful reply.
Pierce:
Just readjusting to office life. Though I miss room service too.
The response comes immediately.
Thatcher:
Pretty sure what I’m missing isn’t on any room service menu
My phone rings, cutting through the silence. Lior’s name appears on the screen, and I answer immediately.
“Lior.”
“Pierce, can you come to my office? Now?”
“Be there in a minute.”
The line goes dead, leaving me staring at my phone. I straighten automatically as I prepare for whatever crisis awaits… When I glance up, Thatcher is watching me with concern clear across his features.
I put my suit jacket on and leave the office. My eyes meet Thatcher’s as I walk past his desk, and he gives me a quick smile.
Ignoring the urge to kiss him, I keep moving my feet.
Lior’s office feels different today, like it’s charged with the kind of tension that comes before a major corporate battle. He’s standing at his window when I enter, but there’s nothing relaxed about his posture.
“Close the door,” he says without turning around.
I do, then take my usual seat. “How did it go?”
“Perfectly.” Lior turns, and his smile has a sharp edge I recognize from our college days when he was about to demolish someone in a debate. “The leak is Richard Thornton.”
I run my hands through my hair. “It makes sense. He pushed the contract with Dellcourt a little too hard.”
“That bastard. He’s been questioning your decisions in every board meeting, undermining confidence…”
“He’s been setting me up to take the fall when the partnerships collapse,” I say. “James gets what he wants, Thornton gets a position in the merged company, and I’m the scapegoat who let it all happen.”
Lior nods. “It could have worked, but he took the bait. Security footage shows him in your office at seven forty-seven p.m. on Friday, going through the documents we left in your unlocked drawer.”
“He waited for the day when a lot of people leave early. The office would have been empty then, but it wasn’t late enough to arouse suspicion about him still being around.”
“Precisely.”
Relief floods through me, followed immediately by anticipation. “So now we wait for James to make his move.”
“We won’t have to wait long. If I know your brother, he’ll—”
The phone on Lior’s desk buzzes. Tina’s voice comes through the intercom. “Mr. Van Stern? James Dellcourt is on line one. Says it’s urgent.”
Lior and I exchange a look. “Right on schedule,” he murmurs, then speaks toward the intercom. “Put him through, Tina.”
I settle back in my chair, staying silent. James can’t know I’m here.
“James,” Lior says, his voice perfectly neutral as he activates the speaker. “What can I do for you?”
“Lior, I’m glad I caught you.” James’s voice fills the room, carrying that particular tone of false concern I know too well. “I’ve been reviewing some market analysis, and I’m worried about VSE’s position.”
“Oh?” Lior leans back in his chair, the picture of casual interest.
“Cash-flow projections, debt-to-equity ratios…some concerning trends.” James pauses for effect. “I think we need to accelerate our merger discussions. VSE needs a stronger financial partner now more than ever.”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting. The fake documents are working exactly as intended.
“That’s quite a leap, James,” Lior says mildly. “VSE’s financials are solid.”
“Are they?” James’s voice carries false sympathy now.
“Because the information I’m seeing suggests otherwise.
Look, I don’t want to embarrass you, but if VSE is struggling, Dellcourt can help.
We can structure this merger to look like a partnership rather than… Well, rather than what it actually is.”
The condescension in his voice makes my hands clench into fists. Lior notices, raising a calming hand in my direction.
“What are you proposing?” Lior asks.
“Emergency board meeting. This week. Let me present a comprehensive rescue package to your board. Show them how Dellcourt can stabilize VSE’s position before things get…difficult.”
“James, I appreciate your concern, but—”
“Friday,” James interrupts, his tone brooking no argument. “I’ve already prepared the presentation. Your board needs to see these numbers, Lior. For VSE’s sake.”
Lior meets my eyes across the desk. I nod slightly—this is exactly what we wanted.
“Very well,” Lior says after a pause. “Friday at two p.m. But, James, this better be legitimate business, not some elaborate power play.”
James’s laugh carries pure arrogance. “Lior, by Friday afternoon, you’ll be thanking me for saving your company.”
The line goes dead. Lior and I sit in silence for a moment, processing what just happened.
“He’s overconfident,” I say finally.
“Dangerously so.” Lior’s smile is sharp. “Which means he’s going to reveal more than he intends to.”
“Did you hear how he talked about ‘what it actually is?’ He’s not even pretending this is a partnership anymore.”
Lior nods. “We’ll make sure to be bulletproof when the time comes.” He leans back in his chair. “Anyway, how did things go in New York? Were the meetings productive?”
“Very productive,” I reply, my voice gaining confidence. “The East Coast team is performing beyond my forecasts. They’re ready to grow further and have asked for more floor space and an additional manager to help them expand into the foreign market.”
“We handle exports from here,” he says.
“I agree, but New York is a hub. If there are opportunities there, we shouldn’t ignore them when we can more than afford to hire a handful of managers.”
“Okay. Make it happen,” he says, though his eyes haven’t lost their thoughtful edge. “And Thatcher? How did he find the conference?”
Heat rises in my cheeks, despite my efforts to maintain my professional composure. “You should ask him, but I gather he made excellent connections,” I manage carefully.
A knowing smile tugs at the corner of Lior’s mouth as he picks up his pen again. “I’m glad to hear it. He’s been practically glowing since you both returned. Success suits him.”
I nod.
“You know,” Lior continues, “there’s a chance you might lose him because of this trip.”
I look into Lior’s eyes. Where once I saw a future, now I only see friendship.
Lior is the definition of turning the other cheek.
When I practically betrayed him and put his place as CEO at risk, he fought back and had the grace to forgive me.
There is no one I respect more on a personal or professional level.
“Thatcher is free to pursue his career,” I say, trying to keep my tone even and professional.
“Is he?”
Whatever Lior is trying to imply, I don’t like it. “Of course. I would never stop him or any other employee from following their dreams. I can hire another PA, although I’d argue that I didn’t hire him to begin with.”
“And if he moves away from Cliffborough?” he asks.
I stand and walk to the window. “I don’t know what you’re implying, Lior.”
He laughs. “Don’t play coy, Pierce. I know your tells.”
I turn to him, and his expression shifts when he looks at me. Can he see the panic I feel at the thought of Thatcher out in the world without me? Not being able to see him anytime I want? Going back to not having lunch together?
“It’s scary, isn’t it? They crash into our lives like it’s not a big deal, and before we know it, they’ve burrowed so deep that they’re stuck on permanently, and then you wonder how life was before them.”
Fuck. He knows. Lior fucking knows.
My throat tightens, and all I can do is nod. “I never saw him coming.”
“You have time to figure it all out, but for the love of everything you care about, Pierce, your brother must not find out. And you can’t continue to work together.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“You really like him.”
“More than I ever liked you.”
Lior laughs and stands, narrowing the space between us until his hands cup my face. “I will try not to take that personally.” Then he hugs me.
The warmth of his acceptance steadies me, but reality intrudes as he pulls away and returns to his desk.
“The board meeting on Friday,” I say, circling the date on his desk calendar with emphasis. “That’s our first battleground.”
“We’ll find a way through this. We always do.”
The words remind me of Thatcher’s constant optimism, of his ability to find silver linings in storms. Something must show on my face because Lior’s smile turns knowing as he adds, “I have to admit, I never expected to see you quite this…invested in someone.”
Heat rises in my cheeks again as I try to maintain composure. “Thatcher is…different,” I manage, though the word feels inadequate for everything he represents. “He makes me want to be different too.”
“Good,” Lior says. “You deserve that kind of different.”
When I return to my office, Thatcher’s desk sits empty, but his usual chaos of sticky notes and colored pens is still present. The sight leaves me oddly calm as I close my office door and sink into my chair.
I don’t know how long I stare at my blank screen before the door to my office opens and Thatcher slips inside carrying a paper bag. His smile makes my chest feel fuller than it ought to be.
“You looked like you needed this,” he says quietly, holding out the bag like a peace offering. “Everything okay?”
Thatcher comes around my desk and leans against it, crossing his stretched-out legs and placing his hands on the edge of the desk. He’s close enough that I catch traces of his cologne mixing with coffee scents, and all I want is to pull him onto my lap.
“Just some complications,” I deflect. The sandwich reveals itself to be my favorite from the deli down the street. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“As you know, taking care of you is literally in my job description,” he teases, though something more serious underlies his tone. “Though I have to admit, my motivations aren’t entirely professional.”
The admission sends electricity through my whole body as Thatcher shifts closer, his hand coming up to straighten my loosened tie. The touch, innocent but loaded, makes breathing difficult as New York flashbacks threaten my composure.
“Thatcher,” I manage, though my voice has gone rough. His fingers pause on my silk tie, warmth bleeding through the expensive fabric. “We should maintain an appropriate distance at work.”
His smile carries understanding that makes my chest ache as he steps back slightly. “I know,” he says softly. “Just…wanted to make sure you’re actually okay. You seemed pretty tense when you went to Lior’s office.”
Guilt twists sharper in my stomach, but if there’s one person I can’t lie to, it’s Thatcher. Instead, I force myself to focus on the sandwich, though every bite carries the weight of things left unsaid.
“I miss New York,” he says suddenly. “Miss being able to touch you without worrying about who’s watching.”
“We knew it would be different here,” I manage. “Has to be different.”
“I should get back to work,” he says with a smile that carries a layer of resignation I don’t like but don’t know how to clear.