Chapter 3
ASHER
Cheryl: Any issues with the suite?
She never failed to text after I checked in, wherever I was.
Asher: No, everything is fine. I’ll text you when we’re wheels up tomorrow.
Cheryl:
Asher: What?
The purple vegetable disappeared before I could send Cheryl a WTF, even I knew what the eggplant meant.
Cheryl: Facepalm emoji. Eye roll emoji.
Cheryl: Sorry, typo, going too fast. We shall never speak of this.
Asher: Happy to oblige. Get some sleep.
She reacted to my last text with a thumbs up and I put my phone on the charger and tuned it out.
As convenient as technology was, I cherished the times I could actually turn it all off.
I poured myself a Louis XIII, the cognac a beautiful amber color that ribboned down the inside of the Baccarat crystal decanter when I righted it.
I paced the suite as I savored the first sip.
It had been a long time since any of this was new to me, but I’d never forget what it was like to be that twenty-three-year old kid dreaming of a suite like this.
The wall of windows showed me an L.A. worthy of Hollywood, lights aglow, and, presumably, dreams coming true out there, somewhere.
Restless, I pulled out the HydroCore file, and I was halfway through reviewing the technical documents again when my phone lit up again. Not Shane this time. Richard Sterling.
Richard Sterling: Just checking that we’re still on for 9 a.m. Looking forward to finalizing our agreement.
I stared at the message for a long moment. Sterling had been surprisingly cooperative throughout the acquisition talks—too cooperative, which had set off alarm bells from the beginning.
Asher: We’re still on.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Richard Sterling: I’ve been thinking about that clause regarding key personnel retention. I’m not sure it’s necessary.
My fingers tightened around the phone. The retention clause had been non-negotiable from day one—guaranteeing positions and current salaries for the SEAS development team for at least a year post-acquisition.
Asher: The clause stays, Richard. As agreed.
The three dots appeared and disappeared several times before his response came through.
Richard Sterling: These people are replaceable, Asher. The tech is what matters. Why waste money keeping them all when you could hire fresh talent for half the cost?
Anger flared hot in my chest. This was exactly why I’d insisted on the clause in the first place. Sterling had always valued patents over people.
Asher: The team stays intact. Period. That was our agreement.
Richard Sterling: Just a suggestion. No need to be so sentimental about a few engineers. We both know business is business.
Business is business. I pictured his face as I’d last seen him ten years ago, standing over our friend’s body. Frowning, as if it were inconvenient . . . as if a man’s life was just another cost on a balance sheet.
I was about to fire back a response when another message came through.
Richard Sterling: Besides, I’ve already hinted to a few of them that their positions might be “restructured” after the sale. Might help you trim the fat without looking like the bad guy.
Jesus Christ. My hands were shaking now. The manipulative bastard was already undermining the deal before the ink was dry.
Asher: You did WHAT?
Richard Sterling: Relax. Just the expendable ones. Charlie Winters and the core R&D team are staying, obviously. The SEAS tech is worthless without them.
My jaw clenched so hard I felt it in my neck. I set the cognac down before I put my fist through something.
I fired off my response without hesitation.
Asher: Move the meeting up to 8 a.m. Will discuss employee retention tomorrow.
The fuck we would.
The controlled sale we’d negotiated was off the table. Sterling had just proven, once again, that he couldn’t be trusted to honor his word.
Tomorrow wasn’t going to be a civilized handover. It was going to be a takeover.
I texted Mike about the change in start time for the next day, and that we were pivoting to a takeover. He didn’t ask questions, just shot me a thumbs up emoji back, we always had a back-up plan, and he knew me so well he probably wasn’t even surprised.
Turning my back on the view I felt restrained, stifled even, as I took in white furniture, white carpeting, white everything. Gorgeous but cold, and I was in the mood for something warmer than just an empty hotel room.
I didn’t bother to change, just headed down to the hotel bar, snifter still in hand. It wasn’t likely they would have this bottle in stock, and I didn’t settle. I’d worked too hard for that.
Being in one of the two penthouse suites meant the elevator was almost guaranteed to be empty on the way down, at least it would start out that way.
It stopped on nine and an elegant older couple entered, nodding at me cordially.
I responded politely with a nod of my own, and gestured for them to exit the elevator first when it stopped.
The man nodded his thanks and supported the woman’s elbow as she stepped over the threshold, his gnarled hand slipping naturally down to grasp her delicate one.
It was nice to see some people still sticking it out, taking care of each other.
The hotel bar was dimly lit, and while it would normally be filled with the soft murmur of conversation and clinking glasses, tonight it was hopping with the after work crowd.
I scanned the room, taking in the usual mix of business travelers and tourists.
Nothing remarkable. Just as I was about to claim a spot at the end of the bar, she caught my eye.
A woman at the bar turned to laugh at something her friend said, the sound clear and genuine even from across the room.
Something about the tilt of her head, the unguarded nature of her smile, made me pause.
She wore simple clothes—dark pants and sweater—her chestnut hair pulled back in a practical knot that was starting to come undone.
No makeup that I could see, which made her stand out among the glossed lips and blow outs.
She was utterly unselfconscious, like she had no idea she was the most interesting person in the room.
I moved toward her.
Which is why I noticed the uber-douche next to her slip something into the drink next to her hand.
Motherfucker.
I was moving with a sense of urgency now, and her friend finished sketching something on a cocktail napkin and looked up, her eyes widening slightly as she took me in while she finished her drink.
“Don’t touch that.” The words rushed out as I saw the other brunette reach for the dosed beverage.
She froze, then turned to look at me, eyebrows raised in challenge. Her eyes were green, and they assessed me immediately.
Her astonished “Excuse me?” didn’t give me pause though, because I already had my hand on the fuck head’s shoulder. I pulled him away from the bar, intending to tell him to take a hike, but his predatory gaze slipped over her one more time before he turned to me, and that did it.
I spun him around and slammed him against the bar, my forearm across his chest, pinning him in place. His drink glass rattled against the marble surface.
“Hey, man, what the—” he started, but I cut him off.
“You think I’m just going to let you walk out of here and try this on the next woman?” I kept my voice low. He stilled. People generally did.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he wheezed out, trying to push against my arm.
I pressed harder, leaning in close enough that only he could hear me. “This isn’t a warning. This is me making sure you never get the chance to do this again.”
His face went pale as I pulled out my phone with my free hand, never breaking eye contact.
“Nine-one-one? I need to report an attempted drugging. The perpetrator is still on premises.” I rattled off the hotel’s address while keeping him pinned. “Yes, I’ll hold.”
“You can’t prove anything,” he hissed, but his voice cracked.
The bartender appeared beside us, eyes wide. “What’s going on?”
“This piece of shit drugged that woman’s drink,” I said, nodding toward the woman. “You still have it?”
The bartender’s face darkened. “Yeah, I pulled it the second you said something.” He looked at the guy with disgust. “Security’s on their way up.”
“No, wait—” the guy started struggling harder. “This is insane. I didn’t do anything!”
“Hotel security can hold you until the police arrive,” I told him, my grip never loosening. “We’re going to let them sort this out properly.”
The bartender was already on his radio, calling for backup.
The friend—the one with the glossy black hair and expensive blouse—spoke first.
“How did you know?” she asked, her tone half suspicious, half impressed.
“I saw him.”
I kept my eyes on the woman with the green eyes.
“Oh my god.” Her friend’s hand flew to her mouth.
She assessed me, her gaze direct and unimpressed. “You’re sure?”
I nodded once. “Definitely.”
She studied me for another moment, then touched her pocket, a gesture that seemed unconscious. “Well . . . thanks.”
The bartender appeared, placing a fresh lemon drop in front of her. “On the house,” he said with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry about that. Guy’s definitely not welcome in here again.”
“Thanks, Jeff.” Her voice was softer than I’d expected.
“Can I buy you another round?” the bartender asked her friend, who smiled and nodded.
“Vodka soda, please. Heavy on both.”
As the bartender moved away, the friend suddenly gathered her purse. “I need to use the restroom. Back in a few.” She gave the green-eyed woman a meaningful look that I pretended not to notice.
“Subtle, Mia,” Charlie muttered, rolling her eyes, but her friend was already sashaying away.
Someone from hotel security appeared at my shoulder and took the man off my hands. I took the newly vacated seat, placing my snifter on the bar. “I don’t usually crash a girls’ night out, but I couldn’t just walk away.”