Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
The consultant we’re planning to hire is the Carlisle Group. Today is our first in-person meeting, and if all goes well, we’ll sign the contracts. The guy I’ve been emailing with is named Kyle. (In my head, I’ve been calling him Carlisle Kyle.)
“Josephine,” Kyle says, shaking my hand as he and his two coworkers enter our boardroom. His hand softens around mine but doesn’t let go, almost like he’s just… holding it. Immediate ick. “Good to meet you in person.”
“Likewise,” I say brightly, taking my hand back. I point at three chairs near the front of the long table. “Saved you the best seats in the house.”
One of the others—perhaps Carlisle Lyle—winks as he passes. I roll out my neck, shutting the glass door to the boardroom, and exchange a goofy, unserious look with Cami as I make my way to the front.
Most of the eyes in this room are warm and encouraging. These people know me. It’s only the Carlisles I need to impress.
I take a sip of my water as the chatter softens. Then I hear a knock on the glass door.
I turn my head, squinting, and make out the outline of a man beyond the wall. It takes me a second to place him from this distance, but yep—
That’s Will fucking Grant, all right.
He has one palm pushed flat against the glass, one leg hooked behind the other. When our eyes lock, his face turns just enough to paint itself in the colors of my presentation theme, reflecting onto his skin. Orange and pink and soft, dusty blue.
His face conveys nothing. He just leans there, waiting for me.
What time is your presentation?
“Um.” I blink, shaking my head, and then address the room. Only half of them hear me, the other half still making introductions. “One moment, please.”
My heels click back over to the door. I feel dizzier and dizzier the more Will comes into focus. A clarity rocks me as I register the clothes he’s dressed in; he’s wearing the samples like they were made for him.
And the tiny Band-Aid is still stuck to his upper cheekbone.
I pull open the door, step outside into the deserted hallway.
“I’m gonna talk really fast, okay?” he says.
I gape at him, stunned. “Okay.”
I don’t know whether to feel angry or confused or bewildered or all three. Will knew I was busy right now. Exactly right now. Unless this is an emergency—
“I’m the reason you were quoted such a high rate when you approached Ellis about working together.”
His words make me immediately nauseous.
“Why?” I bite out.
His face contorts. His voice comes out hollow. “They wanted me for the job since I’m the newest and often work with start-ups your size. But I told my boss we knew each other, and I didn’t think it was…” He blushes and drops eye contact. “I told my boss it was not a good idea. So, they offered your business to a different consultant who charges more because of his experience level.”
I should be angry—I should be so angry—but instead I’m just embarrassed, ashamed.
Not a good idea. You, Josie, are not a good idea.
“You needed to get that off your chest right this minute ?” I hiss.
Will’s expression is urgency swirled up in a cocktail of regret. “The best way I know how to apologize is to fix it, Josie.”
“How,” I ask, “are you planning to fix this?”
He swallows thickly. “I spent the last three hours studying Revenant in between my other meetings. I know every public detail about your business back to front. I would have done this later, but my flight back to New York is in a few hours, and I knew your other consultant option was here, so I figured it was now or never.” He nods at the room. “I also had a feeling it was Carlisle, and I can’t in good conscience let you settle for them.”
“Oh, now your conscience has something to say?”
“I am so sorry, Josie. You have no idea how sorry I am.” He pauses, then inhales to go on, his voice scraping out of him fast and urgent. “I’ll sign a nondisclosure if you let me listen to your presentation, even if you turn me down afterward. But I hope you choose me. Not because you owe me anything, but because you’ll get Ellis on your payroll for cheaper. And I will work harder for you than I have ever worked on anything to make up for this.”
It’s impossible not to hear the earnestness in his voice, impossible not to see the twist in his face. As frustrated and blindsided as I am—this, I can revel in.
“What do you say?” Will asks.
My lips part in a desperate attempt to form a coherent response. “We were going to sign contracts with Carlisle today.”
“Don’t,” Will says, his voice low. “Trust me, Josie. Don’t. ”
He sounds like he’s speaking from experience. I want to ask more questions about that, but there’s no time. I can already feel the stares of everyone in the boardroom on my back, their curiosity growing.
“You don’t have to answer me right this instant,” he says. “But Josie, I think this could work. You and me.”
He first thought it was not a good idea. And now he thinks it could work?
My mind is swirling, and my abs have reclenched. Nothing about today is making sense.
From a business perspective, it’s a no-brainer. Ellis is the superior firm. At an affordable rate, it’s the clear winner. But what exactly did I say this morning that changed his mind about working with me? And why didn’t he admit the truth then?
“I’m so frustrated right now,” I mutter.
For whatever reason, this relaxes him. “Yeah. You have every right to be.”
“I’m not doing this to ease your conscience,” I say. “I’m doing it because it’s a smart business decision.”
He nods gently. “I know.”
“You’d better not be bluffing about how hard you’re willing to work.”
Will shakes his head. “Not bluffing.”
I shoot him one last glare. “Follow me.”
Will’s blue-gray eyes dance with victory.
I pull open the door and summon all the authority I possess. “We’ve got one more,” I say, addressing no one in particular. “Can someone pull up an extra chair?”
Spite is what gets me through that presentation. The urge to prove to Will I’m competent, I’m easy to work with, I’m good at this. I speak mostly just to him, keeping his eyes, holding his gaze. The desire to make him regret turning me down in the first place is the pulse racing beneath my skin. It’s the breeze in my hair on the weekend. My frustration transforms into an even voice, a series of smart words I don’t trip over. Will, for his part, looks thoughtful. Like he might genuinely be entertaining the B Corp idea, and that’s also infuriating, for no reason.
He asks a question about my sustainability ideas; I offer a calm, collected answer. Carlisle Kyle’s head whips back at the sound of Will’s voice, and his expression changes from bored to sharp. Kyle doesn’t look away from Will until the rest of the room is dismissed.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Kyle asks.
“You’ll watch your language,” Derrick warns.
It’s just us now. The consultants, me, Derrick. I’m tempted to take one of the vacated seats (these heels are a bitch), but I’m the CEO. I stay standing so everybody remembers it.
“Josie.” Derrick threads his fingers and sets them on the table in front of him. Slowly, his head turns in my direction. “Explain?”
I gulp, second-guessing myself now. If I follow through with this, it’ll be the most madcap scheme I’ve agreed to in years. My most spontaneous decision since… since that one. The big, bad, friendship-ruining decision I made when I was seventeen. And funny enough, Will Grant was involved then, too.
Apparently, he brings out my impulsivity.
But when I look across the table at him, a levelheaded patience shines back at me, the emotion stretching across every foot separating us. I can feel Will’s intent.
It feels honest.
Hopeful.
When I look at Kyle and the others, I can’t feel anything.
“This is Will Grant, from Ellis,” I say. “Revenant’s consultant of choice.”
There’s a brief, stunned silence as my words land, followed by two scoffs from the Carlisle team and one wince from Derrick.
“We had a handshake agreement,” Kyle says.
“I changed my mind,” I say.
Another scoff. “ You changed your mind?” Kyle throws a hand in Will’s direction. “Don’t fall for him, Josephine. He doesn’t care about you. He’s only doing this to get at me.”
“Josie, that’s not true,” Will says. “I didn’t even know Kyle was here until I showed up.”
I try to care, try to focus on the conversation unfolding, but the animosity in this room isn’t coming from me at this point, nor is it directed my way. I didn’t sleep last night, and I don’t have time for this, and I didn’t even want a consultant in the first place, and when was the last time I ate something? Every useless, hypermasculine word Kyle says pushes on my skull with sharp edges. My vision starts to dance.
“I need a minute.”
My feet carry me toward the glass door, heels echoing now that the room is silent. When I pass by Will, he stands, but I don’t stop. Can’t. Not when I’m feeling this woozy.
Lucky for me, there’s a ritual for this, too.