25. Caleb
Chapter 25
Caleb
“ I don’t understand why I’m coming with you,” Celeste grumbles.
The elevator stops on the sixteenth floor, and the last person in the car finally exits before we move up to the twenty-seventh where the Merged offices are.
I turn around and crowd her, pushing her into the corner. Before she reacts, I kiss her like she’s the last source of oxygen on earth.
She whimpers into my mouth, and I want to fucking hit the emergency stop button and force her to finally scream my name.
But the door dings and I have to jerk away. Her lips swollen, she glares at me. I don’t blame her. I’ve been acting like a madman.
“Just bear with me, black swan. I’m having a shitty day, and you’re making it better.” I take her hand and we step outside.
Roxy is waiting there. She flinches, her lips setting into a straight line as she assesses Celeste. Okay, maybe bringing your wife to your future workplace isn’t the best idea.
Roxy recovers quickly and puts on her welcoming smile. “They’re waiting for you, Mr. van den Linden.”
“Call me Cal. Could you please get my wife something to drink, Ro?”
“Cal, I’ll certainly make sure your wife is comfortable while she waits for you. Please don’t ever call me Ro.”
“My apologies, Roxy.” Okay, I like her. “I won’t take long.” I smile at Celeste.
She glares at me. Why I brought her is beyond me, but somehow I needed to know that she’d be on the other side of the door when I exited the battleground.
I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes. Chuckling with renewed energy, I march toward Corm’s office.
“At least one of them is taken. If one more candidate swoons over the rest of them during their interview, I’ll claw my eyes out,” Roxy says, I’m assuming to Celeste, and I turn to look back.
Celeste looks like she’d rather walk barefoot on broken glass, but she smiles at Roxy, and I leave them there, almost certain the two of them might assume world domination while I’m gone.
I don’t bother to knock because Corm is expecting me. I’m not even surprised Xander and Declan are in the office with him.
They must be waiting for my move since they’ve pulled theirs. Besides, the security from downstairs gave them a heads-up. Hence Roxy’s warm welcome.
“Caleb.” Corm greets me like I came for a friendly visit.
“Asshole,” I respond, and don’t bother to acknowledge the other two men in the room.
“Oh, come on, it’s not like the outcome would be different if we waited for you to come around. I respect the fight you put up, but I needed to move things along.” He gestures to the coffee table.
Xander and Declan are sitting there. Xander looks pissed—I’m guessing he really fought against the announcement. Declan looks bored, which I think is his regular countenance.
I sit down in the same chair I occupied when I first came here. The level of intrigue is very different.
Corm sits across from me and pushes a folder in my direction. Pulling a fountain pen from his pocket, he places it on the folder without saying anything.
I push his pen to the side and open the folder. The partnership contract includes everything we discussed, and it names me a partner with twenty-three percent in the company.
“I met you halfway,” Corm drawls.
If he’s in any way nervous about how this will go, he doesn’t show it.
My gaze turns to Declan. “Did you agree with his blackmail tactic?”
Declan doesn’t move. He doesn’t shift in his seat or clear his throat while he holds my gaze. He takes his time before he answers. “We have several deals at the point of signature. We couldn’t afford any further delays.”
That’s almost like admitting he was on board with Corm’s backstabbing. My research revealed very little about Declan’s relationship with his brother, but I assume he agreed with the plan too.
The older Quinn seems to be kind of a recluse since his wife left him, but he’s a financial wizard. Will these two always gang up against me?
But then Declan adds, “That being said, I read the announcement in the news probably at the same time as you.” His gaze flicks to Corm, his jaw set.
So Corm didn’t even tell his brother. I turn to Xander. “What about you?”
I don’t think it’s a secret I talk to Xander outside of this office, but I don’t want Quinn to know the extent of our friendship.
“Frankly, I’m considering cutting my losses and pulling out after this.”
Corm almost fucking rolls his eyes. “Okay, I apologize to everyone, and I promise I’ll respect your opinions in the future.”
That makes me laugh. “Your promise is worth shit, since nobody in this room trusts you.”
“I couldn’t afford to wait any longer, Cal, so I gave you a little nudge. I can guarantee you won’t regret this.”
The dark circles under his eyes run deep. The man looks exhausted, but I doubt a guilty conscience is at fault here.
“Good, you can guarantee by amending this.” I tap my finger on the paperwork in front of me. “I want thirty percent.”
Corm bristles, but to his credit, it only takes him a moment before he realizes his move might have been a check, but I came to deliver a mate.
“Either I walk out of here with thirty percent, giving me the same level of control you have, or you can let everyone know the first deal Merged ever announced—its own inception—was just a joke. I’m sure that’ll bode well for any future deals.” I lean back into the comfortable cushions of the chair, not even trying to tame my gloating.
“Actually, I’d feel more comfortable with such a distribution of influence and control.” Xander nods, smirking.
Declan remains bored-looking, like this has nothing to do with him.
And my lifelong nemesis, to his credit, knows when to own his fuck-up and admit defeat. He stands up and walks to his desk, picking up the landline.
“Roxy, can you please print the partnership contract again with the following change: Cormac Quinn, CEO, thirty percent, and Caleb van den Linden, COO, thirty percent.” His gaze is on me while he talks, a mixture of loathing and respect. “Roxy, if I cared about your opinion, I would have asked. Bring the paperwork ASAP.” He slams the receiver down, the pen holder beside it toppling.
He sits back, and a sense of accomplishment and anticipation descends on me. I trust only one other person at this table, yet my gut tells me I won’t regret my decision.
“So should we pop champagne?” Xander relaxes in his seat.
Both Quinns look at him like he’s just suggested karaoke at a funeral, but then Corm shakes his head. “Fuck it.”
He walks to a sleek white cabinet in the corner and produces a bottle of Macallan 1926 and four tumblers .
“I can’t believe I’m opening this with you assholes, but the occasion calls for a respectful celebration.”
He pours an inch from the bottle that cost more than a million dollars for each of us to toast our new partnership. The mood in the room is an outlandish mixture of excitement and frustration.
There’s a knock at the door, and Roxy walks in before anyone answers. “I don’t get a taste, boss? ”
“Of course, you’re a valuable team member.” Xander jumps up and takes the paperwork from her. “Isn’t that so, Corm?”
Corm’s gaze lands on the bottle in his hands. “Of course,” he mumbles, and pours for our office manager.
He glances at each of us and raises his glass. “To the best company ever.”
I can toast to that, because something tells me we might have had a bumpy start, but this ship will take us places.
“Sorry it took so long.” I smile when I return to the front desk with Roxy.
Celeste stands up, glaring, but then her curiosity wins. “So?”
“Roxy, will you please show me my office,” I drawl, and the smile that spreads on Celeste’s face is probably as rewarding as the win.
Funny how such a simple, silent show of support can make my chest swell. It might be because I never had anyone cheering for me. Our parents considered any win just an opportunity to move to the next target.
My father, while I worked for him, was always more focused on pointing out failures.
Or maybe it’s just that this woman’s support makes me feel like I’m a better man. Like earning her approval is what makes me or breaks me.
“Of course, Cal.”
I lace my fingers through Celeste’s and navigate the hallway, following Roxy. She stops in front of a corner office.
“Welcome aboard.” The office manager opens the door. “I’ll ask the interior designer to come by tomorrow, so you can design it properly. Press 0 on your landline if you need anything, and I’ll schedule a proper onboarding with you for later today.”
“Thank you, Roxy.”
I pull Celeste inside and close the door.
The office contains a desk, a standard set of cabinets, and bookshelves, making it sparsely furnished. All from a quality dark wood that lends a stuffiness to the space, but the two connected walls of glass overlooking Manhattan soften the feel .
“I’ll make sure to frame one of our wedding photos for your desk.” Celeste crosses her arms across her chest, probably still annoyed I dragged her here for nothing.
“Come on, celebrate with me.” I pull her to me and capture her mouth.
“You got your twenty-five percent?” she murmurs against my lips.
“No.” I thrust my tongue, savoring her. I can’t believe I had her only this morning and it wasn’t enough.
This morning? Fuck, it’s like a lifetime has passed since.
She moans and we stumble, her ass hitting my new desk. She pulls away. “What do you mean, no?”
“I got thirty.”
Her eyes widen, and maybe I just want to see it, but I could swear a jolt of pride flickers in her eyes. “So you’ll be even richer,” she drawls.
I pinch her ass. “That’s where your mind goes?”
She gyrates her hips against me, smiling. “I’m with you for your money only, pretty boy.”
I’ve only known two kinds of women. The gold diggers who would never admit out loud that your bank account is what they love, and the proud, independent kind who make too much fuss about me spending on them .
I didn’t care either way, because I was in it for my fun and selfish satisfaction, but with Celeste, it’s different. She isn’t annoyingly fighting me about what I spend on her. But she also teases me about my wealth, and it’s so refreshing.
She doesn’t need my money, but she takes it when I offer a gift or help. Like she knows her value and doesn’t need to play on greed or overt modesty.
I quirk up my eyebrows. “I thought it was for your visa.”
We grin at each other, refusing to admit this is about more than her visa or my money, but feeling it, nevertheless.
A Hollywood smile, a politician’s promise, or Monopoly money in a real estate deal—those are all fake. What’s sprouting between me and this woman feels anything but.
“Congratulations.”
One word that hits me in my solar plexus and continues to creep into all the darkened crevices of my soul.
Her praise. Her approval. Her support.
I’m like a child starved for a hug or a kiss. She gives them freely and genuinely, and I can’t see myself letting go of this. The little boy in me is validated.
The man in this room wants to lock down the fluttering feelings and never revisit them again. Getting Celeste’s approval is like having one taste of her. Devastating.
Because I can’t have just one.
And I don’t need it.
I want it. I desire it. I crave it.
I don’t need it, but going on without it will leave a permanent scar.
“I have you to thank for it. If you didn’t point out earlier—”
“You would have realized it yourself. You were just too distracted by your initial—justified—reaction to the betrayal.”
“Still, you fast-tracked that process.”
“What can I say, I’m not just a pretty face,” she quips, her nails scraping up my back, sprouting goosebumps in their wake.
“You see, black swan? And you were worried I have nothing to gain from this arrangement.”
I don’t tell her I’m gaining way more than I ever imagined. And while my expectations were pretty low—even on the negative side—the reality’s snuck up on me with a vengeance.
The most unexpected, fiery, green-eyed surprise I never knew I needed in my life. And I’m going to make the best of it.
While it lasts.