Chapter 4 #2
Corm’s office is all sharp angles and curated power—steel shelves, spotless white leather, a massive monochrome photo of his wife on the wall. It’s meant to impress or intimidate. It does neither.
He sits across from me like a king, which I guess he is in this environment. While his features are unreadable, the pause stretches. He’s waiting for me to say something.
But I just cross my legs and wait. He didn’t ask a question. And silence is my native language.
I can engage in a staring contest for a long time. Much longer than the average person.
Time ticks slowly, and his expression finally shifts to something akin to respect.
So that’s his weakness? Patience. Good to know.
“Why didn’t you buy Xander’s share when he was selling?”
I didn’t expect him to go there, but I’m not letting him see that. I don’t move. “He didn’t tell me he was selling.”
His eyebrows tick, surprise flashing through his features, almost imperceptible. I don’t know what surprised him more—that Xander didn’t tell me or that I admitted it.
He licks his lips. “Fair enough. He was a fucking mess when he made that decision. So now you’re here.”
“Now I’m here.”
“Aren’t you going to sell me on your potential contribution?”
“Hasn’t it been determined already?”
“Has it?”
“You took my call, and you invited me here.”
He studies me for another long—too long—moment before he speaks. “Are we here signing the deal? I don’t see the paperwork. Your name is an advantage; your reputation, however—”
“I can prove myself.”
He clearly did his homework and heard that I fuck off for weeks at a time several times a year.
Something my father has been tolerating for some unfathomable reason. If I didn’t know him, I might believe it’s out of guilt.
My behavior doesn’t do me any favors here. But I’m not ready to explain it.
“And that’s where the problem lies,” he says. “We’re not selling shares to discover that the new partner might not be the right fit.”
“What you’re saying is that you’re offering a twenty percent financial stake in your company, but you require a one hundred and fifty percent contribution.”
He smirks, throwing his arm over the back of his chair. “You got the concept right.”
“Then let’s have the paperwork drawn up.”
He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Not so fast. While we’re eager to share the burden, and the rewards, we’re not selling the shares without a proper vetting process.”
I flex my fingers. One. Two. Three times. “And that would entail?”
“You manage a few projects for us first.” The way his gaze stays on me is unnerving, but I don’t waver.
I might have worked at denying my roots, but that doesn’t take the Stone out of me. We don’t flinch. We don’t blink. We out-stare the sun.
“You want to test me? Like a probationary period? I’m not seeking an employment contract here.” I keep my voice level, indifferent. The notion is unexpected. And utterly ridiculous.
“And I’m not offering one. But I’m not selling a slice of my firm to someone I don’t know.”
“Yet, you want me enough to make me jump through your ridiculous hoops? And work here for free?”
After last night, Foxy might collaborate even without me being here at this company. But that’s a big if.
Besides, based on my research, the woman has no life outside of these walls. If I want to get close to her, I need to make sure she has no choice.
“You would get a consulting contract for a few projects. You’ll be paid for your time and effort. In the end, the partners will vote you in or not. Simple.”
“Simple,” I scoff.
All my instincts scream at me to abort the mission. Run. Hide. Numb. Vanish. The usual.
I stay.
“I don’t waste my time,” Corm says, unimpressed. “But you should know it’s not twenty percent that is available. It’s only fifteen. We’re using the remaining five percent as an employee incentive.”
I don’t really care about the stake. I expected to buy in and gather the intel I need, not to apply myself and actually work here. But this will have to do.
“I’m interested in joining this team, and I’m going to prove it to you.”
He’s offering for me to work here for three months. That should be plenty to get what I want. And I will get it.
“Welcome aboard, then.” He stands up and shakes my hand, his grip firm and impersonal. “Cal is in Chicago today, but he will brief you on your projects tomorrow morning. In the meantime, let me get you set up.”
He walks to his desk while texting on his phone. A moment later, after a sharp knock, the door opens, and the world tilts on its axis.
Clad in a pencil skirt and what looks like a chef’s jacket, Foxy’s eyes meet mine.
Seeing her in daylight… fuck. The jolt is sharper than it should be.
She looks exactly like the woman I planned to get information from—and nothing like the woman I ordered to spread her legs for me.
And that contrast?
Dangerous. Distracting. Devastating.
I train my expression into bored disinterest, but inside, something tightens. She shouldn’t get to affect me.
Not last night. Not now. Not when I need a clear head.
But the universe apparently enjoys fucking with me.
Because she walks in, meets my eyes, and the energy shifts just enough to piss me off.