Chapter Five
Five
James
James lurched forward as the Uber driver slammed on the brakes.
Quick as a whip, Philip grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back. “Ay, this is why you use your seatbelt, cabrón.”
James nodded his thanks and pressed his phone back to his ear. “Repeat that, Jackie?”
“How did you get a meeting so fast?”
The driver blared the horn and yelled a swear word out the window.
James sighed—rush hour was never fun. “I said it was urgent.”
Jackie’s keyboard clacked on the other end of the line. “Right, but usually that means nothing to a PR firm.”
He shrugged. “Then I guess they looked us up.”
Although confidence lined his words, nausea punched through his gut.
Adam was right, and James hated it.
His father’s name was what got him recognized and opportunities handed to him on a silver platter. One of the reasons he’d started Lotus was to make a name for himself, and although it floundered, people still chose to recognize Tian.
The irony wasn’t lost on him.
“Anyway, I’ll keep you and the others updated.” He hung up, pocketing his phone.
The Uber arrived down the street from their destination, and he and Philip got out.
Philip dusted off his shirt, swerving to avoid a woman carrying a sloshing soda. “If we didn’t have to worry about parking, I’d have driven us.”
The corner of James’s mouth kicked up. “Thanks, but I’d rather not get on your motorcycle.”
Philip clucked his tongue. “In my car, cabrón.”
James snorted as he pulled the glass doors of the squat building open, ushering them into a modernized lobby.
Following in the footsteps of half the other buildings in Manhattan, the office housing Covey LLC featured stylish lighting and a small indoor garden bisecting the neat space.
Trendy chairs dotted shiny floors in front of a security desk, and reclining on one, with his nose buried in his phone, was Luc.
Philip grinned and sauntered over. “Hey. What are you doing here? Didn’t you meet with Covey two days ago?”
“Hey.” Luc pocketed his phone. “Damn, you two got a meeting already?”
“Well, smaller companies mean smaller turnaround times, right?” Philip shrugged. “But my question still stands. What are you doing here?”
“Yeah, did you mess up already?” James teased.
“Funny,” Luc said. “Marilyn wanted to go over a few more things regarding brand awareness. My dad couldn’t make it, and Tony’s out of state for a few days, so he sent me.”
“He trusts you with that?” Philip asked.
Luc rolled his eyes. “I’m on the board, you know.”
“That was a mistake,” James muttered.
“Excuse you.” Luc tried kicking him in the shin.
James laughed, stepping back. “Sorry, sorry. You’re very competent.”
“Damn right. Anyway.” Luc cleared his throat. “I’m assuming since you’re here, you’re trying to figure things out.”
Philip nodded. “You said this place was good, right?”
“That’s the impression I got. Oh, James, remember Sophie works here.”
“Oh, right.” Philip adopted a skeptical look. “Well, it’s fine … as long as she’s not on our case.”
James’s jaw clenched. Ironic how my personal life is threatening my work for once … no, stop it. You don’t know that the Sophie Huang on the email is the same Sophie Huang you met. Two people can have the same name at the same company. So don’t lose out on this opportunity just because of a maybe.
James’s pocket buzzed, and he withdrew his phone. It was Sophie.
Because I just got asked. Favorite dessert?
He tapped in a reply,
I don’t think I have a favorite one. Not really a dessert person
EXCUSE ME?!
He smiled.
Kidding, I have a huge sweet tooth.
Oh, thank God. I thought I was going to have to drop you now
A snort slid from his lips.
Glad to not disappoint.
Luc cleared his throat. “Is that Sophie?”
The trickle of sunshine leaking from James’s chest exploded into a glittering solar storm. “Possibly.”
“Figured. You should see the smile on your face,” Luc teased. “Anyway, when is your meeting?”
James checked his watch and flinched. “In ten minutes. We should head up. You coming with?”
His friend shook his head. “Just finished mine.”
The three said their goodbyes, and James and Philip hopped into the elevator.
“So … do I have to confiscate your phone?” Philip asked.
“What?”
The elevator arrived on the fourth floor, and the two stepped out. As James waited to check in with reception, he caught flashes of movement in a room down the hall.
Large, clear windows splashed sunshine onto a rounded conference table, already dotted with a few packets and pens. A slender hand, tipped with navy nails, adjusted the water bottles grouped in the center, a bracelet flashing on their wrist.
Paranoia assaulted his nerves as he stared at the bracelet. Is that the same one Sophie wears, or…?
Philip shook his head as they took seats in the waiting room. “I haven’t said anything until now, but seriously? We have a meeting about how you might potentially lose your company, and you’re busy texting a girl?”
“I’m not going to lose anything.” James frowned. “You said it yourself—our finances are fine.”
“Sure, but what happens when those run out?” Philip demanded.
“If we walk away from this meeting empty-handed, we’re still going to lose it all.
Look, I’m not trying to be insensitive, but don’t be cocky about this.
Your relationship with your father isn’t good enough to afford that, and yes, we know people.
But that’s only going to take us so far. ”
James frowned and looked away. “I know.”
“Do you?” Philip challenged. “You used to do anything for this company. But now? This isn’t like you, cabrón.”
James pursed his lips.
His friend was right, this wasn’t like him.
A few weeks ago, he let almost nothing distract him from his work, and that was nothing compared to when he first started Lotus.
Would you really want to lose what you started for Mom?
No, but … last week, he discovered Joseph’s. Sophie walked into his life, and everything changed for the better.
And I know Mom would want that for me.
“Pip, you know the lengths I went to for this company—the lengths I’ll still go to. But I need this too, alright? Besides, how many times have you texted Mariana on company time?” James rarely pulled rank, but quite frankly, Philip was being an asshole. “You don’t get to judge.”
Philip grumbled something in Spanish, staring at nothing.
James sighed, understanding completely why Philip reacted like this.
He was CFO, which meant the problems with Delacroix were something he blamed himself for, even if it wasn’t his fault.
And James hadn’t helped matters either, when he asked multiple times since the news broke why Philip hadn’t caught this.
Cursing his insensitivity, James cleared his throat and sought to lighten the mood. “I overheard you and Luc. If you’re going to Seoul, I’ll text you a picture of these skincare things to bring back. My cousin raved about them, and I’m curious.”
An affectionate expression brushed Philip’s face. “Alright, but why don’t you just come with us?”
“Can’t,” James said. “Got some work to do.”
“So do I, but I’m still going. Besides, you can do it on the jet. I promise we’ll leave you alone.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s fine. You guys just go and—oh. Last time, I got stationary at that shop in Hongdae? Bring some back, too. I’m almost out.”
A wide smile lifted his friend’s mouth. “The one with the corgi butts?”
James flushed brilliantly. “I … look. They’re cute dogs, and they waddle aroun—”
Someone cleared their throat, and he looked up at the receptionist. “We’re ready. You can follow me.”
“Do you think he heard us?” James muttered in Italian to Philip.
“Sì,” the receptionist responded.
Philip launched into a heavy coughing fit in a poor attempt at hiding his laughter, and James elbowed his gut.
They entered the small conference room, and James noticed several things at once.
A large screen set up at the end of the conference table bore a slide with Lotus’s logo, and ‘LOTUS ART IMAGE MAINTENANCE’ scrawled across the pale background.
Packets with identical words lay in front of four chairs, sleek pens resting beside them.
Three of the chairs were empty—one wasn’t. Sitting in it with her nose buried in a packet and flipping a pen between her fingers was Sophie.
James’s stomach plummeted seven stories, and he stumbled into Philip’s back.
Philip looked up from his phone. “Ay, cabrón, watch—Oh, Christ.”
Her gaze snapped up and widened, volleying between them. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Alarm bells resounded in James’s ears. Stupid—I told you it was the same person!
“Sorry, do you know them?” Apprehension filled the receptionist’s expression.
Sophie’s gaze darted to him. “I … um … no, not really. Um, I’ve got it, Nico, thanks for showing them in.”
Nico narrowed his eyes but nodded and left.
Sophie’s shoulders tensed as she stood. “Someone start t—”
A blonde woman bustled in, balancing too many items in her arms. “Hello, hello. Nice to meet you. I’m Marilyn Covey.”
A black hole sucked all the air from the room, and James worked on autopilot as he fell into emptiness.
Could nothing in his life go right?
The next thing he knew, he sat in the chair next to Marilyn’s, smoothing his fingers over a corner of his packet.
“As I said in the email, the situation is urgent.” He avoided looking at Sophie across from him.
If he did, he’d combust. But his peripheral vision told a different story for her.
“We need to find out why that check bounced, but in the meantime, we can’t have people thinking they can’t trust us.
This scandal is big, but it isn’t the end of the world, and they can still bring their business to us.
With our own PR team out of the picture, Covey’s help with building up our image would be invaluable. ”
Marilyn nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek, and linked her fingers together. “What do your quarterly projections look like?”
He gestured to Philip, who’d been sneaking glances at Sophie since they sat. “I’ll let my CFO handle that.”
His friend blinked and cleared his throat. “Um. Right, so. Based on our data, we’re financially alright for the time being. But if we don’t have clients coming in … well, you can do the math.”
Marilyn chuckled hollowly. “And I’m assuming that’s less than ideal.”
“Yes.” He cracked a smile. “If you turn to page two, you’ll see some charts I put together with last quarter’s information.”
Papers rustled as she bent her head toward the figures.
Finally leveling his gaze on Sophie, James’s attention skittered over the substantial frown marring her forehead.
Fix it.
It wasn’t the most professional thing in the world, but he grabbed a pen, the lithe body weighing heavily.
Bringing pen to paper, he scrawled a sentence at the top of his pamphlet, taking a moment to figure out the upside-down letters.
After the meeting, meet me on the staircase.