Chapter Two
CURRENT DAY
LOS Angeles, CA
Elly
The file in the middle of my desk may as well be electrified and wrapped in razor wire, and maybe in one of those red file folders with a stamp that says ‘Caution’. It’s almost an inch thick and represents the part of my father’s business I hate.
My father is the founder and CEO of Royce Enterprises, and one of the divisions of his company deals with business acquisitions, or takeovers, the type of acquisitions that can and do destroy lives and families.
I’ve never been personally involved in any of them, but I’ve been responsible for the data entry, and I’ve read the files.
I don’t want to be involved with them.
Anger is twisting the muscles around my spine as I take deep breaths: in for three, hold for three, and out for three. I’ve always told myself I would be a part of the general business to keep my father happy, but my promise to myself was I would stay far away from this.
I reach over and slightly scoot the desk phone in the corner of the desk, perfectly angling it so the space between the edge of the desk and the phone is equal on both sides. The simple balance gives my nerves a little relief.
An imposing figure darkens my office door like a harbinger of ill will and leans against the frame. I lift my gaze to meet the eyes of a man I used to think of as a friend, but the moment I graduated with honors and my father brought me into the fold, I became his competition.
“Did you get this assigned to me, Harris?” I manage to keep the quiver of anger from my voice, but only just.
The dark silk suit that was tailored specially for him should have a snake scale print weaved into the fabric.
At one time, I believed he was a good person, I hate it even more that he knows more about me than the average man.
I used to think he was so handsome, but now I know who he really is, and it’s all I can do to tolerate his presence.
His slimy half-smile tilts up on one side as on his tan, perfectly shaved face as he levels me with a glare from his almost black eyes, “What’s the matter princess, can’t handle it?
” His Cuban accent used to pleasantly slide over me when we would talk, but now the sound of his voice is like fingernails on a chalkboard.
He wants to get a rise out of me, he wants me to screw up so I won’t get the big corner office next to my dad he’s been drooling over for the last year. The one that became available when my uncle announced his upcoming retirement.
To be honest, the office is more important to him than it is to me. I’m just enjoying making him work for it. Especially since I found out his family is wealthy in Cuba and he lied to me all about struggling to work his way to where he’s at.
Harris has always got what he wants. He would like for everyone to believe that he works hard, but one phone call to his father and money appears in his account like magic.
I was witness to a temper tantrum once, albeit smooth and calculated, and I learned that when Harris is denied, he will get revenge.
However, showing any sign of weakness will only give him power over me.
Giving him a show-stopping smile, I say, “I can run circles around you. I’ve already proven that.”
Alluding to his recent failure in the Enderson, Inc. case wipes the smug smile off his face. I think even some of the oily shine from his perfectly styled coal-black hair may have dulled some when his smile fell.
I managed to get the signatures needed from the family when he couldn’t; they wanted to sell, but my dad was low-balling them, and they didn’t like Harris.
It’s my opinion that they could see the snake in him even when he was shmoozing.
Once I stepped in and negotiated between them and my father, both sides got what they wanted.
The anger from that has been fueling his campaign to show me up to my father since.
He narrows his eyes, I swear if we were in a video game he would shoot lasers at me and tilts his head to the side a bit. “Game on, princess. Arrangements are made and we fly out next week.”
My only response is lacing my fingers on my desk as I sit up straight and cross my legs while cocking my brow, conveying that I’m not intimidated.
He just smiles and pushes off the door. I listen as his footfalls recede on the carpet and when I know it’s safe the smile drops from my face, and I slump back in my chair.
Damn it!
Leaning on the arm of my chair with my chin on my fingers, I look at the damn folder like it’s a bomb.
I’ve always told myself I can live in the business world as long as I don’t cross the lines I don’t agree with, but fuck if he hasn’t pulled me into a pissing match to prove to my father I’m not worthy.
He knows I hate this part of the business, only because I made the mistake of confiding my hopes and fears in him before I realized he wasn’t worthy of my trust.
With an exaggerated huff, I sit back up and open the folder for The Harlow Springs Ranch. Twelve hundred acres that was at one time a cattle ranch, but now it’s a horse ranch. It’s been in the same family for over a hundred years.
Flipping through the basic info, I scan the file to find the real reason my dad wants it. Ah, there it is, natural springs are dotted throughout the property’s hills, and he already has a bidder for it so they can build luxury spas for rich people who have more money than sense.
A little more digging reveals the rich Native American heritage of the area combined with the natural springs will put a spin on advertising that will have them paying big bucks and booking out in advance to experience ‘a piece of lost native history’.
Fucking vultures.
Resting my head in my hands, I try to push the anger down.
I can do this. Inhaling a deep breath, I count to three, hold it for three, and let it out for three. I’m going to need my yoga today, all the muscles in my back are bunching and twisting just by being in the same room as this file.
Just as I’m wrapping up my day, I quietly walk past my father’s office to the elevators and let out the breath that’s lodged in my lungs when I don’t see him at his desk. But my relief is squashed when I hear his voice.
“Elly, you got a minute?”
So much for my clean escape.
Squaring my shoulders and painting a smile on my face, I turn around and peek around the door to find him sitting in one of the chairs in his conference area. He is looking at the view through his floor-to-ceiling window.
“Sure, what’s up?” I drop my shoulder bag with my computer and that damn folder in it onto the couch by his desk and walk to the conference area to sit in a chair close to him.
He doesn’t look at me, but stares out the window, his usual authoritative air and reminder that he would rather pretend I’m the boy he never had sitting next to him. I got used to his disappointment long ago, but I would be a liar if I said it didn’t sting on a deep level every time.
“You got your next assignment?” It’s an innocent question, it’s meant to sound conversational, but this is him feeling me out to see if there are any chinks in my armor.
Casually linking my fingers in front of me, I nod my head, knowing he’s watching me in his peripheral, his eagle eyes looking for anything remotely like weakness. “I did, I was reading through it this afternoon. Do you want to go over it?”
“No, I don’t think it’s necessary.” He takes a calculated breath and sets his arms on the arms of the chair, letting his hands dangle at the ends. “I don’t need to tell you this is an important deal and has to be closed.”
My chest squeezes as I think about the family who live on that ranch, I researched them online and read about what they do. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t a good idea, but I refuse to destroy anyone’s life without walking into it with eyes wide open.
Nodding my head again, I say, “You don’t. I saw the amount of money on the line.” I try to come across as agreeable and confident, but I know if I heard the sharpness in my tone, then my father did as well.
He turns his attention to me, his sharp amber eyes zeroing in on my eyes that are a mirror image of his. “Harris has argued you are doing so well in other areas of the business that you will be able to pull this off. Should I be worried?”
Of course he did. I have managed to keep myself far away from that part of the business and he knows his best shot of reducing my value in my father’s eyes is to push me into what I told him I could never do.
Biting the inside of my cheek and keeping the smile on my face, I ignore the urge to curl my fingers into my palms and push my nails into the skin, instead, I feign calm and collected. “Of course not. But I was wondering, is it necessary for Harris to go with me?”
“We always send two agents for assignments like this.” He raises his eyebrows, “You realize you are going to Oklahoma? They carry guns like they carry their car keys.”
My father’s elitist attitude makes me flinch on the inside, but I keep the smile that’s been part of my mask since I was a young girl painted on my face, “Yes,” I slowly nod my head to drive the point, “there is a bit of a cultural difference, but last I heard, they are people just like everyone else. It’s Oklahoma, not the old west.”
“You’re not going there for a cordial visit, Elly, you’re going there to take their land.
” His rebuke stings like a slap in the face, making me feel like I’m still that little girl who needs to be reminded my mental bandwidth is lacking because I don’t have a penis, but my only reaction is I tip my head to the side a bit like I don’t have a care in the world.
“Just give me a few days and then you can send Harris, it’ll be fine.” I wave my fingers in the air like I’m waving off any concerns as I say it.
His stare is like an x-ray machine, I can see the wheels turning in his head.
He doubts me, he thinks Harris is the better person for the job.
He’s right. However, I’ve spent my entire life trying to prove my worth to this man, and I’ll be damned if Harris is going to knock it all down in one swoop.
For a fucking corner office.
“You’ve got four days and if you haven’t sealed the deal, I’m sending Harris.”
“Perfect. I’ll take care of it.” The smile on my face is anything but sincere, but I’ve spent my life perfecting it just for him.
He watches me for another moment before he gets up to walk to his desk, as he does, he puts his hand on my shoulder and lightly squeezes. The only offering of affection he will ever show. “Good, don’t make me regret it.” But then there’s the usual verbal ice water thrown over any warmth he shows.
One yoga class, a sauna set, and a glass of wine later, I’m still tied in knots. The folder is on my lap as I sit on my balcony watching the city lights, my feet up on the ottoman, and my second glass of wine in my hand.
With the alcohol in my system, in the safe space of my condo, and my suit of armor discarded at the door, I look over the details of what I need to know for this damn deal.
And to rub salt in the wound, I look over what I printed out for the ranching business the family has been running for decades.
Can I do this? How can I do this? If I take these people’s home and livelihood out from under them, can I live with myself? Just to prove to my father I’m valuable. I lift my glass to my lips, but it’s empty. With a huff, I set the empty glass on the table next to me.
Will it even matter? Would it matter if I got him all the land in Oklahoma? Would he still look at me with the same disappointment in his eyes?
Probably.