by K. L. Brady
After a smattering of murmurs and collective gasps, some genuine and others Oscar-worthy, she swallowed what little was left of her pride and pressed on. "First of all, let me assure you all of one thing—nobody's getting fired. There will be no pink slips, no layoffs, no changes in the leadership structure—at least as far as you're concerned."
An “Amen” bubbled up from the back of the group. She almost wanted to laugh, but she didn't break.
"Your direct line manager today will be the same tomorrow. Furthermore, there will be no change in your pay or benefits. The CEO of Keep It Real will report to Cody Hart, which brings me to what I need to say next."
She allowed the news to settle on them and then prepared for the hardest part.
"I'm not going to lie because I'm not practiced enough to fool you—the news caught me off guard. So, I took some time to consider my role in the future of this company, indeed whether I would remain here. After some careful consideration..." she paused. Choking out the next part required a level of strength she wasn't sure she possessed.
Then just as she prepared to announce her decision, something unexpected happened.
A handsome stranger appeared in the back of the auditorium.
Well, he didn't so much appear as he materialized, as if Scottie beamed him in from Planet Pulchritude. For a moment, a second that felt like an hour, the rest of the room fell away. Only she and he remained. She committed to introducing herself to him, the millisecond she took a break. She questioned whether he was a member of the press nosing around for Hart family drama, but she didn't recognize him from her routine contacts.
More words came. She had no idea from where, but they filled the room with sound that got a definite reaction from her employees, if not the one she expected.
"I'm truly excited about the prospects for Keep It Real. The Hart family purchased our company at a premium, significantly above market value, because they believed in our talent and our vision."
He leaned against the back wall, too far back, and locked eyes with her. She needed him closer so she could savor each detail of this seemingly Mr. Right. The summary of him read scrumptious—ruggedly broad shoulders, a powerful chest, a taut waist, and strong legs, all wrapped in a cut-to-fit suit designed by heaven’s seamstress.
"We have achieved so much on our own. Together, with Hart, we'll take Keep It Real and Hart Cards to even greater heights."
A round of applause followed a brief pause. Her consternation dissipated as she filled with relief.
Then the miracle of all miracles happened—Mabel smiled.
She knew then she'd made the correct decision, if not for herself, for them. Still, her heart broke. Moreover, she'd lied so badly, in fact, she could've doused herself in holy water and still wouldn't have come clean.
"We're going to take a short break, and then I'll return to the stage. At that time, I'll answer your questions. Just hang here in your seats for a couple of minutes."
Tessa broke camp the second the period hit the end of her sentence. Outside the auditorium, she turned to the left and right, eventually spinning in circles. With no one in sight, she gave up until...slow claps sounded at her back.
She did an about-face and found him, the specimen for whom she'd been searching. He stood there, in all his gloriousness and splendor, which seemed to spill from his insides out. Three words came to mind: Good googity moogity!
"Brilliant speech." His clap dwindled to silence. "Given the less-than-ideal circumstances, you handled the announcement beautifully in my humble opinion." A tall and delicate mix of Boris Kodjoe and Shemar Moore, he was more stardust and magic than mortal, up close. He stood above six feet, looking like a lifetime of snacks.
Tessa's brow scrunched. "Um, I don't believe we've met. Are you—a reporter?"
"No. I'm sorry." He offered his hand. "I'm Kyle. Kyle Anderson. Hart Enterprises. Chief Operations Officer."
"COOhhhh, you work for Cody." She'd seen him before; she was almost sure of it. But for whatever reason, she took full notice of him now. She shook his hand, but she kind of wanted to jab him with a throat punch, given that an order from the Hart C-Suite likely prompted his presence.
"Ah, I see. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Anderson. I'm Tessa Sweet."
He held her hand for so long, delightful soured to awkward. Even after their hands parted, their eyes remained locked. His were wide, soft, hazel. She pinched her leg to stop herself from getting lost in them. Tessa's new mission began the minute she decided to stay, and common sense overcame her present lust in time to resume it.
"So...tell me something, Mr. Anderson."
"Anything," he said. "And, please, call me Kyle."
"Okay, Kyle." She arched her eyebrow to signal the healthy serving of skepticism she'd be dishing. "Why did Cody send you to spy on me? And, more important than that, why did you agree?"
A disruptive round of coughing stifled his words. Then he smiled—in a devastatingly perfect way.
Chapter Seven
Cody
* * *
One clash in his office and the day took a different spin than the one Cody imagined. Leave it to Tessa. He didn't believe she’d overflow with gratitude, but he didn't expect her to be so full of rage.
Cody woke up with all the answers, or so he thought. Now, hours later, he hunched over his desk, holding his head, questioning his decision, resolve, sanity...and drug use.
Have I been smoking?
He thanked the heavens that matters couldn't get any worse...and then his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and winced before answering.
"We need to talk,” the voice said.
The Chandra.
She spoke the four little words no man in a relationship wanted to hear from his woman, certainly not his fiancée. Each syllable signaled the onset of doom. He ought to know. The last time he used them, he'd said them to Tessa. The present moment felt rife with Karma.
"I'm heading to my car as we speak, Dear," Cody said, trying to diffuse her rancor. "I can't wait—” The cellphone's "END" button eliminated the ability to slam the phone down in anger, but Chandra's echoed so loudly he could yodel to it.
She fumed. Her tone was one-part bark, three-parts bite, and more growl than he could manage without a whole bottle of whiskey. A new panic set in as his mind flashed back to his conversation with Jackson. His brother and his dream—they seemed less ridiculous. A four-headed dragon. He had dismissed the entire idea with a brisk wave of his hand, until now—time for a call.
"Jacks! Hey, what's, uhhh, what's going on?"
"You tell me," he replied. "Let me guess; you're on your way home to The Chandra."
"I will be as soon as I wrap up a couple of things in the office. How'd you know? Did you see a...vision?"
"No visions. I know the sound of unbridled fear when I hear it." He chuckled. "Time to break the news, huh? Can I lend you an ear? A little red corvette? A ticket to paradise? One night in Bangkok?"
"How about a brother who doesn't listen to the ancient pop station? So, let me ask you something. The dragon. It didn't...kill me, did it?"
He laughed too hard for Cody's comfort, given he was next in the line of succession. "Relax. Dreams are seldom literal. Death is almost always symbolic—like the death of an old way of thinking, an old way of life, or even a relationship. Besides, The Chandra is a neat-freak; she doesn't like messes. She wouldn't shed your blood because red's not in your color wheel."
Cody fell out laughing. His brother said nothing but the truth. Jack's joking at his expense made him feel sufficiently absurd, so he hung up and prepared to face the wrath of The Chandra.
Before he set for home, he'd slay half of the dragon. No doubt his sisters would come rummaging around his office looking for paperwork on the Keep It Real deal. He scurried around, packing and locking up confidential documents, including the acquisition agreement and its terms.
The deal he struck with Sweet Media didn’t impact anyone's fortunes but his own. It w
asn't his fault they'd mismanaged Hart Publishing, of which they had financial control; it was barely profitable. His dad had so compartmentalized the greeting card business from the publishing side that they functioned as two separate entities.
Unlike the Devilment Twins, Cody had always been more wise than vindictive, even in the face of their constant opposition. He put the people and the business first. Always. They put pettiness first.
Fortunately, he'd remain the CEO for the foreseeable future. He controlled the enterprises with the power of Uncle Brian's shares. As long as Cody maintained Uncle Brian's support, the final vote would end in his favor.
The thought stiffened his backbone as his stepsisters Regina and Renee barged into his office. They stomped in snarling and so fire-angry, smoke emerged from the flowing weaves dangling over their shoulders. They came to a hard stop at the back of his office. With their eyes narrowed into slits and arms crossed over their chests like battle armor, it appeared they’d come to reignite the sibling war.
"May I help you? I'm in a hurry," he snapped.
They assumed flank positions on either side of his desk. He was surrounded.
"I don't know about you, Regina, but I'm not feeling the love," Renee said. "Is that any way to speak to your big sisters?" She was the oldest of the two by five minutes.
He chuckled. "Can we dispense with the small talk? I'm supposed to be halfway home."
"This discussion shouldn't take more than a moment of your time," Regina said. "Long story short, we're here to verify some news we plucked from the grapevine today. Is it true you've acquired Keep It Real?"
"Remember what Dad always told us?" Cody began. “Don't ask questions to which you already know the answers."
Renee sucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. Her lousy attitude was next-level compared to Regina, but both of them had excess evil to spare.
"Should've figured you wouldn't pay us the respect of a direct answer. Every time I think you couldn't be a bigger disappointment to Dad's legacy, you exceed my expectations. You’re back to that ancient Tessa thing, again. How disappointing. We thought you had matured. You can’t leave the past in the past," said Renee.
"To think Pops believed you'd picked a side and grown a pair," Regina interjected. "He'd turn over in his grave if he knew you allowed the Sweets back into this company."
The spirit of Tessa dangled off the edge of his tongue, but he managed to hold his silence. There was no need to upset the angry bears when, if he just played possum long enough, they'd find another camp. He needed to save his energy. That's the only way he'd survive his impending confrontation with The Chandra.
"What kind of spell did she put on you? How many years has it been? Five, right?" Regina had the nerve to shake a finger. "Need we remind you that you just proposed to Chandra? She's like family. We love her."
"Please! You barely know her," Cody responded.
“We like her better than that Tessa."
"It's obvious you're probing for answers. But let me make this as clear as country air—I'm not justifying anything. I did what I did."
"Excuse me? We deserve more. We still own part of this company," Regina said.
"Fine, I'll offer this: back off. I didn't conspire with the Sweets to make your lives miserable."
"Of this, I'm sure," Regina continued. "It's clear conspiracies fail miserably in this family."
Fury surged through him. They schemed with Pops. He'd always known what they'd done; he'd never heard them admit it. "Oh, I see you now. You're salty because I've never properly congratulated you. You successfully orchestrated Tessa's and my break up. So permit me to take a minute and give you your due"—he slow clapped—“Bravo!"
He'd have much more preferred a middle-finger salute.
Both of them bowed.
"Since we split," Cody continued, "Tessa and I have spoken exactly zero times. She's as thrilled about the acquisition as you."
Renee and Regina exchanged sinister glances. He could see the cauldron boil. They'd heard opportunity in his explanation. Any attempt to seize it would fail thanks to Uncle Brian's influence on Tessa, and the shares Pops had the wisdom to leave in the Sweet’s care.
"If you think you can flip Tessa, please invite me when you ask. I'll bring the popcorn. She can see what side you're on, and she knows it's not hers. Furthermore, as the CEO of this company, I made a business decision, one that was best for Hart Enterprises. End of story. Sayonara. Goodnight!"
He double-checked his briefcase for the paperwork to make sure he left no clues behind.
"This isn't the end. Trust and believe it's only the beginning," Renee warned. "We've been asking for your support to acquire LookBook, the printer for independent publishers."
"I know. And I've refused, not only once, but every single time you've asked. I'm not sure why you’re still confused or discussing this issue, for that matter."
"We've researched the business, crunched the numbers, and we've concluded that not only will the company help to expand the Hart Enterprises portfolio, but it will give us a project that we can put our own names on."
"We're traditional publishers," Cody replied. "LookBook doesn't fit within our portfolio. Moreover, it's operating in the red, way too expensive, and it'll go under in a year, mark my words."
"Brilliant insight. Where'd you obtain it? Jackson?" Renee said with a long twist of her neck. "Your fragile male ego just paid ten-point-two million for your ex-girlfriend's company, and you call LookBook expensive?"
"Fragile male ego, huh?" he replied to Renee. "That's ridiculous, especially coming from a woman so shallow she spent seven grand on a dress to wear to a two-hundred-dollar charity event."
"Deflect much? It's clear you used only a fraction of your tiny brain to make this decision. Unfortunately for Hart Enterprises, it's below the belt."
"Whatever."
"Two years ago, your decision would've made sense. Today, it looks a whole lot like an ego trip."
"To someone who doesn't know all the facts, maybe."
"Give me a break, choir boy. Business is business. Keep it Real is in the final throes of its demise, and you acquired it while it's circling the drain."
"The only thing circling the drain is this conversation."
"You didn't pick it up—by the way—at a discount. Oh, no. You paid a premium...for a greeting card company when we already have one. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s what your baby, Hart Cards, is supposed to be, isn’t it?" Renee added.
"I'll admit," Regina interjected. "Keep It Real is quite innovative compared to the stale and tired drivel you release, which begs the question, why'd you buy it? To ruin it? Drag it back into the middle ages with Hart?"
Renee and Regina enjoyed a laugh at his expense.
"At least books are making a comeback," Renee continued. "Cards are going the way of the dinosaur. Everybody's sending e-cards and texts."
"Memes. Don't forget memes," Regina added.
"You want to question my decision. Fine. Debate all you like. But we aren't buying LookBook," he said. "Now, I'm through with this discussion."
He slammed his briefcase shut and loped toward the door. "You know I find this conversation remarkable," Cody continued, "especially given that I can count on one hand the number of hours you spent working at Hart before Pops died." He held up three fingers.
They both huffed.
"Do us all a favor and chalk this up to your last failed power play,” Cody added. “If you want to assume the helm of Hart, you'll need to wait until I'm dead and gone because I will not relinquish the reins one moment before."
The edges of Regina's expression hardened at first and then softened as she seemingly shifted tactics mid-thought. "We're not your enemies, Cody. We're family. Dad wouldn't want us to fight. He'd want us to be allies."
"If either of you gave two cents about what Pops wanted, you'd be short two cents instead of being short millions of dollars in wasted litigation and months of lost time. All to get
a court to affirm what Pops wrote in his will in plain English. Yet, somehow, we find ourselves here...now, I'm going out there," he said, pointing to the elevator. He pushed his way to the door. "If you'll excuse me."
"Tessa Sweet has no place in this company," Regina barked, sounding like Renee's echo. "Maybe we’re stuck with you, but she'll never survive. If you want to go down with her, that's your prerogative."
"If you've got a problem with Tessa, take it up with her. I dare you," said Cody. "And the next time you want to speak to me, make an appointment with my secretary. Or better still—don't."
In his car, Cody shook the steering wheel and expelled a long breath. He'd managed to survive the battle on the first front, but he doubted he'd fare as well on the second.
Chapter Eight
Tessa
* * *
Tessa couldn't take her eyes off of Kyle Anderson. He stood with her at the back of the auditorium as she waited to finish her speech. The sizzle between them thickened to the point that she wished she could wield it like a lasso and wrap and slap him into submission.
Perhaps she'd save that maneuver for a fifth-date mambo, if he ever asked her out, and if he survived that long.
For now, she'd interrogate him. He represented a mystery to solve. Why did Cody send him? And why did he agreed to come?
"Umm, let me try that again in my good English; Cody sent you to spy on me, didn't he?"
"Ah. Straight no chaser. Cody failed to mention your directness." He seemed to be stalling, but compliments and his mildly alarming attractiveness would get him everywhere...after he answered Tessa’s question. "As a matter of fact, yes, Cody indeed sent me to spy on you. Well, more so to keep an eye on his business interests.”
"Spy," she said.
He shrugged. "Label it what you will; however, given the tenor of the speech you just delivered, I'm almost certain his fears of insurrection are unfounded. Almost."
