Love in Tandem

by Natalie Arden

  Love in Tandem

  Natalie Arden

  Copyright © 2019 by Natalie Arden

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Eamon

  ”Excuse me, sir.”

  Eamon looked up from his desk. He’d spent the last few minutes staring at the file in front of him, but he couldn’t have told anyone what it actually said, too wrapped up in his latest meeting – or non-meeting – with the production team. The two security guards in front of him were vaguely familiar. He thought the shorter one might be Carl, or was it Christian? The other one was a complete blank – maybe one of the new hires building management had sent them a memo about last week? It didn’t matter. He shoved down his anger from earlier and tried to look neutral. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we were sent by Mr. Darmeyer to escort you out.”

  “Escort me where?” Eamon said, incredulous.

  “Out of the building, sir.”

  “And why on earth would that be?” Eamon’s voice was rising, uncontrollable.

  “He said it was by order of the board, sir.” At least they looked suitably uncomfortable, standing in the CEO’s office, offering to escort him out of the building like a junior coder caught filching office supplies.

  “Kevin said that?” Eamon almost yelled the words. First the utter incompetence of Production and now this?

  “I did,” said a voice from the doorway. Eamon looked up to see his VP standing there, an apologetic look on his face. “Thanks, guys. But if I could have a moment with Mr. Carrell before you do your job?”

  Security shrugged and left the office, leaving Eamon on his feet and staring his VP in the eye with utter confusion. “What the hell is going on, Kevin?”

  “That little display of temper?” Kevin said drily. “That’s not a good look, Eamon. The board’s been worried about your behavior for a little while now: that was the last straw.”

  “What do you mean worried?” Eamon said. “I assure you, I was being as restrained as possible with the head of Production. I may have given him a little lecture—” More than a little lecture, maybe, but still, very much deserved. “–but I could have fired the guy. And the next time he blows off four or five meetings in a row, I just might.”

  “Ten minutes of yelling is a lot more than a little lecture,” Kevin said calmly. “And he says there was no meeting on the schedule today.” He sighed, flicking a glance at the door behind him. “Look, I know this is all bullshit, right? But the board is worried that you’re getting burnt out, that all of these scheduling problems and outbursts are a sign that you need a sabbatical.”

  “A sabbatical?” Eamon said, furious. This was his company! He’d never considered taking a sabbatical from it – he hardly took vacations!

  “And they’ve ordered you one,” Kevin said flatly. “I have all the paperwork here.” He held out a folder to Eamon, who took it with nerveless fingers.

  “And this is more important than the fact that productivity is down this quarter?”

  “To the board, maybe.” Kevin shrugged again. “Look, Eamon. You want my advice? Take a couple of weeks off.”

  “What?” Eamon practically yelled the word, still paging through the documents in the folder.

  “If you fight this, they’re only going to take as evidence that you really need this break. They’ve already banned you from board meetings and talking to the department heads. They’ve got security to come escort you out, for fuck’s sake. Take a couple of weeks off and we can fight this.” Kevin’s voice was even, his whole demeanor radiating sympathy.

  “And what do you think?” Eamon asked suspiciously.

  “You know I’m on your side.” Kevin smiled at him soothingly. He took a breath. “I think this is about the hostile takeover.”

  Eamon almost dropped the folder in his hands. “Is there new information?”

  “Nothing new, I’m sorry,” Kevin said. “But look at it this way. Someone’s trying to get you out of the way. Why would someone do that? We already know that they’re trying to interest other companies in our business.” He shrugged. “Simplest explanation is that they’re trying to get you out of here to make their path easier.”

  “And you’re telling me to take time off?” Eamon protested. “Isn’t this our moment to find out who’s doing this?”

  “The board’s pretty united on this one,” Kevin said, making a vague gesture in the air. “It’ll be easier to tell who comes out in favor of a merger while you’re gone, I’m sorry to say.” He held up his hands. “It won’t be long, I’m sure.”

  “You’ll keep me updated?” Eamon said. This was absolutely infuriating. The idea that someone could try to take over his company and the best thing he could do was keep out of the way absolutely rankled. But the paperwork in his hands was very clear. The board was willing to strip him of everything except his shares if he didn’t leave the building immediately.

  “Of course!” Kevin looked shocked. “Every detail, every report. We’ll figure this one out.”

  Eamon forced a smile. “You’re a good man,” he told Kevin. “I owe you one.”

  Kevin laughed. “Nonsense. Now, I’ll come down with you and we can formulate a plan.”

  “With security?” Eamon asked, dreading the moment.

  “Unfortunately.” Kevin winced. “With security.”

  Eamon sighed. “Hit me.”

  The ride downstairs in the elevator was humiliating. Kevin kept up a stream of conversation throughout, but Eamon couldn’t talk around the ball of anger that lingered in his throat, just waiting to be spat at the nearest person who did something to annoy him. He knew he couldn’t let it free, couldn’t give the board any kind of ammunition against him, but he wanted nothing more than to explode. Despite Kevin’s presence, he couldn’t forget that the security guards were there, and he was sure neither could anyone else. They stood on either side of him, clearly keeping him away from everyone, including Kevin, impeding their conversation with a kind of professional blankness that itched at Eamon like a mosquito bite.

  They walked him all the way to his car in the end, despite Kevin’s attempts to convince them that their duties
ended at the border of the building. But no, Eamon was shut into his car like a misbehaving child, Kevin mouthing apologies through the window before he headed back upstairs to do some real work.

  Work that Eamon wasn’t allowed to do anymore.

  Alone, at last, in his car, he put his head down almost to the wheel and screamed.

  1

  Eamon

  It was 1:45 in the afternoon and Eamon was having a stiff and extremely necessary drink. If he didn’t think about being escorted from the offices of his own fucking company, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Maybe he’d be back there with the incompetents he’d somehow managed to hire, instead of in his penthouse with the lights off, staring into the depths of his drink.

  A square of light from the window moved slowly across the hardwood floor towards him. How long had he been sitting here, empty glass in hand? He was still wearing his suit, for fuck’s sake.

  Eamon rose creakily to his feet and slammed the glass down on the coffee table as he stomped off to his bedroom. The ringing of the thin walls of the tumbler followed him as he well.

  How dare they kick him out of his own building? That was the thing he couldn’t forgive.

  CarreSys was his company. He’d built it up from the days when it was him and six part-time coders in an office built for two. And now it was going to be snatched out from under him.

  He flung his jacket into the laundry hamper, indifferent to the creases he’d be putting into the fine wool.

  His company!

  They’d been planning this for a long time. They must have been. To have the order from the board ready the second he blew up at his department heads for missing the fifth meeting this month alone, they had to have been having secret board meetings without him. Which someone should have noticed, dammit!

  His pants followed the jacket. Did no one but him care about the company? Or were they all looking forward to the fat checks they could get from whatever company wanted to engulf his business? He didn’t even know what company it was, only that there was definitely something going on.

  A bleep, from the phone he’d tossed on the bed, broke the fuming silence of the room. Eamon scrambled for it, jeans still only half zipped. A text from Kevin. The only person in the company who it seemed that he could trust. The one who’d come to tell him to his face what was going on with the fucking board.

  Eamon had fucked up. He was totally prepared to admit that he’d fucked up. There had been no need to swear at his department heads when they insisted that there was no meeting scheduled for this morning, and threatening to fire their incompetent asses back to the stone age had been overkill. There must have been a mistake.

  But it was not the first mistake this month, let alone this year. There were all kinds of meetings that people had missed. Deadlines he’d set that people had blown by and refused to even admit that he’d sent out, even when Kevin had set the paperwork he’d drawn up before them.

  Eamon was tired of mistakes. It was hard not to connect them to the rumors Kevin had brought to his attention, the hints that some of the bigger medical database companies were interested in swallowing up his business.

  It was his fucking business, dammit! He’d started with one app, then gotten into bigger and better databases, better security, app consolidation. All kinds of little value-adds that had allowed him to make a name for himself even at a quarter the size of some of the giants in the field. He’d fought these kinds of takeovers for a long time. The quality of the product was important to him, important to their clients. He wasn’t going to let the name CarreSys, the name associated with his own, turn into a carbon copy of every other app out there.

  Not even for a fat paycheck.

  That was why he’d always held on to a hefty share in the company, even when his accountants had explained the foolishness of that decision. He’d wanted to be a voice on the board that remembered the old days, remembered what kind of work they were trying to do in the first place. But if the board was going to be holding meetings without him, then clearly that strategy wasn’t enough. Not by a longshot.

  He read the message he’d been staring at with unseeing eyes.

  Bad news from the board, Kevin had said. They won’t set a date for your return. Just put you on an indefinite sabbatical. To help with your obvious case of burnout.

  I’m not burned out! Eamon replied, fingers clumsy with anger. If he had to work twelve-hour days fixing other people’s mistakes, whose fault was that? He just needed people he could trust. People who didn’t try to stab him in the back with things like sabbaticals and burnout.

  You’d still better take it, Kevin answered almost at once. They’re not going to let you back into the office after that riot act you read half the Production department. Eamon could almost hear the tone of his voice as he read the next message: not quite a scold, but somehow still fully conveying his disappointment. It’ll be harder now for you to keep up with developments going on at the board, but I’ll do the best I can. I’ll keep sending you reports. They won’t be able to get rid of you for now, so you might as well keep your head down and let them show their hand even further.

  It wasn’t the kind of answer that Eamon wanted at all. He wanted to barge right back in there and demand answers. Maybe do a little more swearing. But he’d hired Kevin in the first place because he wanted someone in his organization who was better with people than he was. He’d take Kevin’s advice. For now.

  He wanted to call Kevin, to properly hash out their plan of action, but he needed to be cautious. Kevin was probably still at the office now, and Eamon didn’t want anyone to know that they were still in contact. That was part of the board’s order after all. Not just kicking him out of his own office, but refusing him contact with any of his employees. The only one who had the guts to go against that decision was Kevin. Which was good for Eamon, but frustrating as hell right now.

  Keep me in the loop, he told Kevin as he strode out of his bedroom and back to the decanter of whisky on the coffee table.

  I will, Kevin replied. But maybe you should get out of town for a little while. Just to let things cool off.

  The idea, especially after a couple more fingers of liquor, had its merits. The whole company would be buzzing by now about the CEO being escorted out of the office by security. If the whole company knew, then the news would spread unstoppably through his industry. It was fucking humiliating.

  Better by far to be away from it all: from the prying eyes, and the people who offered sympathy when all they really wanted was a chance to get their teeth in a juicy piece of gossip straight from the source.

  But where the hell could he go where barely anyone knew him? Where no one would care what the hell he did, or how he was reacting to his complete humiliation by his own subordinates? Where he could actually be alone?

  2

  Scott

  ”And you’re sure you booked online?” Scott said, scrolling through his list of bookings for the fortieth time, as though the confirmation might have appeared while these customers were still standing in front of him, angry with the delays.

  “I told you it was weird that we didn’t get a confirmation email,” the woman hissed under her breath to the man at her side.

  Scott pretended he couldn’t hear her. “We’re having a few bugs with our online appointment bookings,” he said, with what he hoped was a suitably self-deprecating smile. “But we can fix you up with a bike rental no problem here and now.”

  “That’s not very professional,” the man standing at the counter drawled disdainfully. “The whole point of booking in advance was to skip all of this paperwork. We want to be outside, in the conservation area, not dealing with you in this...” He glanced around the small office theatrically. “Shop.”

  “I’m sorry your booking had problems,” Scott said, trying to sound sympathetic. The paperwork in question was two pages maximum and all they needed to do was sign. It was a bike rental for fuck’s sake. They weren’t trying to buy a hou
se here. “I’ll try to make it as quick as I can.” He pushed a laminated page over the counter so they could see it better. “These are our available models. Do you have any particular requirements?”

  “We already did this online,” the woman complained.

  “And I’m very sorry you have to go through this inconvenience.” Scott smiled at her. “Now, we have some off-road bikes if you’re feeling that way inclined, or there’s some simpler models if you want to take one of the bike trails for a more relaxed ride.”

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes.

  Scott, for what felt like the hundredth time this afternoon, didn’t say anything unforgivable. “The all-rounder it is then.” He clicked a few keys on his keyboard and reached for the page that began to inch its way through the printer. “All the details are here. If you’ll just sign here and here, and give me a credit card to put on file, I can take you to our garage and we can make sure the bikes are adjusted to your specifications.”

  “Finally,” the man said, practically tossing his card over the counter. He tapped his fingers on the smooth wood as Scott processed the payment, barely looking at Scott the whole time.

  It only took a moment to complete the order – and Scott was eternally grateful that his old card-reader decided to cooperate this time – but the look of outrage hardly faded from the couple’s faces as he handed them their copies of the paperwork and walked them outside to the garage.