“Never.”
I need to change the subject or this will go nowhere fast. “What are we going to do today?”
She visibly calms down. There’s so much change going on, and now I know I need to tiptoe into my relationship. “I want ice cream from the creamery.”
“Today is a perfect day for ice cream.”
I shut the television off, and we get in my car and drive into town. Genevieve chats aimlessly about her friends, and I try hard to keep up without drifting into my own world.
I lie in bed thinking about my last conversation with Michael. When Mark applied trackers to the barrels, two more were missing. I think this is going to drive me over the edge. I wanted to talk to Sophie, but she left for vacation as soon as I returned. She deserves the break, but I never even got the chance to tell her about the meeting. She’ll want to know the family’s decision about the trackers and stacking system and my brother petitioning for us to lose our stake in Bellissima Valle. I don’t know how much more stress I can take, but I also don’t want to burden her with all the vineyard’s problems, as she takes everything so personally.
Genevieve is becoming difficult for both her mother and me. I know in parenting circles they warn you about your sweet little girl turning into a bitch as she begins puberty, but isn’t eleven too young for that? She’s struggling with her mother getting serious with Tomas, but I know from our conversations that Melanie dated Tomas for over a year before she introduced him to Genevieve, and they’re planning on getting married. We’ve always made it clear to Genevieve that while she wasn’t a mistake, her mom and I just weren’t meant to be anything more than good friends, but we love her dearly. Melanie wants Tomas in her life, and I want Genevieve to like Greer. And it’s important that she see a loving relationship. I need the women in my life to get along.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Greer
I finally feel like a normal person again. It’s only taken a week to completely recover from my jet lag and get fully in the groove of things at the office.
I look through the final issue of the business journal I missed while I was out and see a few things that are concerning. It’s time to make a preemptive attack. I came up with an idea while I was in Italy, and now I’m rested and ready to implement.
I call a friend at the Silicon Valley Business Journal. “Hey, Wiley, it’s Greer Ford.”
“Hey, Greer. How are things at SHN?”
“They’re amazing, actually. We were thinking of doing a roundtable with several of our reclusive CEOs. Any interest in covering it for The SVBJ?”
“You’ve caught my interest. Tell me more.”
I take the time to go through my vision. It’s a total puff piece, but a few of the names I drop will be very interesting for Wiley to cover, as they’ve been in the news dealing with issues of sexual harassment, tax avoidance, device addition, working with the government under less than ideal circumstances, and the challenges of working in a highly changing environment and how they’re adapting. I haven’t run it by the partners but will do so after I put this into motion. It’s going to bring our mole out in full force, and Benchmark is going to go crazy.
If this goes sideways though, I could very well lose my job. I’ve resigned myself that if it comes to that, I’ll move to my mom’s condo for a while to relax and date Andy.
I pick up the phone and make lunch plans with Jim, our private investigator, then decide to include Dillon last minute so I have some senior partner buy-in.
Dillon pops into my office. “I noticed you didn’t include Mason on the lunch.”
“Yes, normally I’d invite Mason, but while on vacation I came up with something that I’ve launched with the media to flush out our mole. Plus, he’s understandably raw about Jeannine.”
Jeannine Pierce was, I believe, Mason’s first serious girlfriend, and he’s still a bit protective of her. And she’s the CEO and founder of Benchmark Capital, a rival venture capital fund. “I understand. Let’s see what Jim says. If he has a problem, can we roll back what you’ve promised?”
“Yes, but it’ll be ugly. I don’t think Mason’s going to like it, and he’d probably veto it out of the gate.”
I work the afternoon on my personal laptop that isn’t attached to our network in any way, watching my e-mail and newsfeeds from my work computer. By eight I have my entire plan written down, and tonight I’ll make copies of it from home, so no one who might have access or can hack our work network has anything to steal.
The group all gathers for drinks after work to casually catch up. We discuss the new partner joining us in emerging markets and get hints on the final plans for Sara’s wedding that’s coming up. Given Trey’s a paparazzi darling and has been since he was twelve, there’s a lot of misdirection going on. We don’t discuss any details for fear of being overheard, but I can’t wait. Sara won’t have any bridesmaids, but her two sisters will join her as flower girls, and her foster father will walk her down the aisle. Beyond that, we don’t know a when or where, so we’re all on high alert.
Emerson’s drinking club soda, which makes me think she might be pregnant, but when I hint at her beverage choice, she tells me she has more work to get done tonight and needs to be fully aware since its budget planning for her teams. I’m not sure I believe her excuse, thinking if she isn’t currently pregnant, then they’re probably trying. The idea of little babies running around SHN is actually exciting. I’m a very good aunt.
Cameron and Hadlee are also busy planning a wedding, something small for the ceremony and a big party with all sorts of people invited.
Annabel turns green with envy. I’m not sure, but I have to wonder if Mason doesn’t hear a little bit of what our concerns are and is slow to commit. They live together, but she wants to be his universe, and I don’t get the impression that she is. Selfishly, I can’t help but enjoy her jealousy, and I feed it a little bit by digging into wedding plans that are being made, but I’m not a total bitch about it.
Cameron stands up and straightens his shirt in a fit of nervousness as Hadlee glides in. Her eyes light up, and the chemistry between the two is obvious and smoldering. After a quick but deep kiss with her man, she walks over and hugs the two of us. “Hey, ladies. Funny meeting you here.”
Emerson sardonically shares, “This stool has my butt prints on it, we come here so often.”
Hadlee looks up and sees Annabel watching us. “Hi, Annabel, I didn’t see you there. Sorry.”
“That’s all right, I hear the wedding planning is coming along.”
“Slowly. I’m okay with a long engagement, but this big ol’ lug here is in a hurry.”
Hadlee had no idea that her innocent comment would only make Annabel more envious. Her lips purse and her smile becomes plastic, and I think the pained look on her face is because she must have a hemorrhoid with how restrained she’s acting right now. Hadlee has no idea how she was before, so she doesn’t know that she just threw gasoline on the fire. Annabel excuses herself, and I see her take a big breath.
I feel a little bad for her. She loves Mason—I think—and it isn’t reciprocated. I consider going after her, but Mason gets a text message and walks off for a minute. When he returns to the table, he sits down heavily. “Annabel apologizes, but she isn’t feeling well and is heading home.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I cringe, feeling a bit guilty about how much I had to do with her early departure.
“I think all the wedding talk is hard for her,” Emerson sympathizes.
“I don’t know why,” Mason says matter-of-factly. “I’ve told her it isn’t in the cards until we’ve lived together for at least two years.”
“Two years?” slips out of my mouth before I realize it. “I mean, that’s a long time. Don’t you think you’ll know before that?”
“No, I don’t,” he replies curtly.
Hadlee soothes him. “Well, I hope it works like you want. We’ll support you regardless.”
We talk for a
nother hour or so before I excuse myself and head home. I need to print this proposal for Jim and Dillon, and I want to talk to Andy before it gets too late.
The next morning goes in a flash, and before I know it, Dillon and I climb into a rideshare for our lunch across town in Ghirardelli Square. While we ride, we make polite conversation.
“Are you and Andy getting serious?”
I’m crazy about him, but I’m not ready to share that with the world. Instead, I make an excuse. “It’s hard to get serious when we live so far apart.”
“Well, it isn’t like your father’s company doesn’t make helicopters, and you could use the pad on the top of the building and chopper in every day.”
“I didn’t know there’s a helipad on the roof.”
“There is. It would probably be a twenty-minute trip door to door. And no traffic.”
“You’re funny. Right now I don’t know what I’m going to do. We need to date a while and live through my meeting his daughter—”
“He has a daughter?”
“Yes, when we all met, the girls were talking about Genevieve and Melinda. Who did you think they were talking about?”
“I don’t know. Maybe sisters or ex-girlfriends. I wasn’t really paying attention.” Looking sheepish, he mumbles, “Sorry.”
I giggle. “Don’t worry about it. He’s very special to me, and while he’s been exposed to an episode of the many dramas of Eve, if Mark is any indicator of the male behavior, he won’t stick around anyway.”
“You do realize that Mark is a fucking idiot. And honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if he wasn’t really a man.”
I chuckle. “I know he’s an idiot, but I also think when most men realize how difficult it can be and the prospect that I could also become that batshit crazy, they run for the hills.”
“Not if they love you they don’t.”
I’m grateful when we arrive at the restaurant, though I’m relieved to hear what he said. Maybe he’s right.
We jump out of the car and walk in, searching for Jim. He’s already arrived and found us a table in a corner far away from any possible eavesdroppers.
We quickly order, and once the waiter leaves, I bring out the proposal and walk them through my thought process, including how I think it’ll play out with the media and with Benchmark.
Dillon is silent as he processes what I’ve laid out. Jim leans back in his chair and scrutinizes me carefully. “You did this on your personal computer and didn’t get on any network, right?”
“That’s correct,” I assure him.
“This is pretty risky, but I would imagine it’s going to send your mole into overdrive.”
“The first roundtable is Saturday, and we expect the Sunday Chronicle to have a small piece. The Silicon Valley Business Journal will have a complete spread with over fifteen interviews. Each one will have a take on the things they’re struggling with and how we’ve helped to manage it.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Greer. I think it’s brilliant, but I think the chance of this blowing up is about 40 percent,” Dillon confides.
“I’m prepared for that. If it goes sideways, I’ll resign from SHN and move to my mother’s place in Napa.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. We’ll figure it out if it comes to that.” Looking down at the proposal as our food is delivered, Dillon continues, “I think this is positively brilliant and it’s a good risk. I know Mason will struggle with it because of the risk to you personally, but if you’re willing, then I support you regardless of the repercussions.”
We eat and talk quietly about different aspects to make sure I’ve covered all my bases, and I have. When they clear our plates, I say, “It sounds like I have buy-in from both of you.” They nod, and Dillon says, “I’ll call a partners meeting at my place tonight. Jim, can you make it?”
“I can.”
“Why don’t we make it my place?” I offer. “That way we don’t put Emerson out, and I can take care of dinner and other details.”
“That works.” I watch Dillon type out an invite stressing it’s for partners’ eyes only. He also includes Charles, Trey, and CeCe. His phone pings successively, and it looks like everyone will be converging on my place at seven.
As I leave the restaurant, I call the Italian restaurant and order dinner for ten people, then the liquor store to order a case of Bellissima wine for dinner, and finally prepare a table outside with a screen and projector. People can’t steal the screen like they can a discarded proposal.
My cell phone pings.
Mason: Is everything okay?
Me: Yes. I met with Jim today and included Dillon last minute. I’ll walk through my proposal tonight.
It takes him a few minutes to respond. I know not including him most likely hurt his feelings, and I’ll have to work hard to make it up to him.
Mason: See you shortly. Can I bring anything?
Me: I adore you, Mason. You’re incredibly kind for offering, but I think I have it covered.
The wine arrives first, and I put it aside. Then dinner is delivered by the wife’s owner this time, who’s also from a town close to Andy’s. She sets up a buffet-style spread with a heat source so none of the food gets cold. I promise to bring Andy by soon, and she thanks me profusely for the Bellissima Grande wine. It was a special memory from their past, but she assures me that Bellissima Valle gets front and center stage at their restaurant.
She leaves as my friends and partners arrive. I show them outside to the patio where dinner is set up along with drinks. It isn’t even 7:05 p.m. and everyone is already here.
“Wow, I don’t think we’ve all been on time to anything before. I’m impressed.”
“Well it isn’t often you call a meeting,” Sara says.
“True. Why don’t we all grab some food? It’s amazing Italian food that’s here in my neighborhood, we recently learned the owners are from the next town over from where Andy grew up. There’s Bellissima Valle wine to enjoy with it, so you get a real Italian experience.”
Fifteen minutes later, everyone is seated and it’s just dark enough that I can fire up my presentation. People eat quietly and slowly as I walk through the plan. No one asks any questions while I’m talking, and that makes me nervous. I can’t have explained it so well that they understand everything.
Mason is first to talk. “You do realize with this plan that Jeannine is going to come gunning hard for you.”
I nod. “Yes, but Jim, Dillon, and I agree that if I’m willing to take the risk, we just might cripple our mole, if not completely take them out.”
Cameron turns to Dillon. “You’ve digested this a bit longer than I have. How do our investments look after this?”
“I do think we’ll take a hit, but I think it’ll be temporary. These guys are exposing themselves. We may open the market on Monday morning down, but by the end of the day, our companies should all be up from where they closed Friday night.”
“Holy fuck, this is risky,” Cynthia breathes.
Trey and Sara nod in agreement.
Charles asks, “What do we do if this goes sideways?”
“I take the blame in the media. My ex will get on the bandwagon that my mother is bipolar and chances are I am, too. You’ll all have deniability, and I leave the company and move out to Napa to my mother’s condo for a while.”
Emerson is quick to jump to my defense. “Wait a minute, that seems rather drastic.”
Sara adds, “I think we determine tonight if this is what we want, and then we all go down with the decision.”
“Wait, that’s not part of my plan. While I do think this will work and work well for us, I think it’s only appropriate for me to fall on my sword.”
Cameron, who has been quietly reading through everything, sits back in his chair. He’s often reserved, so when he has something to say, everyone stops and pays attention. “Sara’s right. We’re all behind this and will go down with the sinking ship, but I don’t think it’ll turn out that w
ay. I think this is going to upset our mole and frost Jeannine. Mason, you’d better change your phone number. She’s going to be pissed.”
“It’s going to be fantastic.” Mason beams.
Charles slaps his hands on his knees. “That settles it. Sounds like we’re all on board.” Turning to me, he adds, “This took some serious balls to pull off. I think the company is going to catapult after this, and we’ll have you to thank.”
I take a deep breath. I want to cry and run to him for a hug as I did when my dad left my mom when I was young. Instead, I murmur, “Thank you.”
We break for dessert, and the mood lifts exponentially. Hanging out and drinking wine, I look around the group. I’m excited they’re allowing me to run with my idea. I do think if it goes bad, I’ll need to leave, and the thought alone makes me want to cry, but knowing some of the Bay Area’s smartest minds think it’s a good idea makes me feel a little better.
My phone rings, and it’s Andy calling on FaceTime. I greet him and tell him what’s going on, then show him the group all enjoying the food and wine.
“I wish I was there,” he pouts.
Emerson says, “We wish you were, too.”
I turn the phone back to me. “Can I call you later?”
“I’m heading to bed. Can we talk tomorrow?”
“Call whenever you can. I’ll try to get away, or you can always wake me up.”
“Okay, good night.”
I miss him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Andy
It takes me a moment to realize the noise is the alarm at the farthest warehouse from the villa going off. I grab a pair of jeans and pull on a T-shirt as I stumble in the dark with only my cell phone to cross the grounds. It doesn’t take long before the alarm company calls asking if they should send the police. “Someone has kicked in the door to one of our warehouses. Please send the police.”
Temptation (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #4): A Second Chance Billionaire Romance Page 16
