by Max Monroe
Business Purchase Agreement
This agreement is made on Monday, October 15th.
Between
1. Kline Matthew Brooks, Brooks Media, (the “Selling Party”) and
2. Georgia Rose Cummings, (the “Buying Party”)
This Business Purchase Agreement (this “Agreement”) is made and entered into on Monday, October 15th, by and between, Kline Matthew Brooks, having its principal office of business at Brooks Media, 15 Fifth Avenue New York, NY (“Seller”), on the one hand, and Georgia Rose Cummings (“Buyer”) on the other hand. Buyer and Seller are collectively referred to as (the “Parties”) and are sometimes referred individually as a (“Party”).
RECITALS:
WHEREAS, Seller is the owner of Brooks Media at 15 Fifth Avenue New York, NY, collectively, the (“Business”).
NOW, THEREFORE, for and in consideration of the mutual covenants and benefits derived and to be derived from the Agreement by each Party, and for the other good and valuable consideration, the receipt and sufficiency of which are hereby acknowledged. Seller and Buyer hereby agree as follows:
Agreement to Sell:
Subject to and in accordance with the terms and conditions of this Agreement. Buyer agrees to purchase the Business from Seller, and Seller agrees to sell the business to Buyer. Seller represents and warrants to Buyer that it has (and Buyer will have) good and marketable title to the Business free and clear of liens and encumbrances.
Purchase Price and Method of Payment:
Brooks Media, all stock and investments, and corporations under the Brooks Media name are net worthed at 3.5 billion dollars, along with the ownership of one fluffy cat, Walter Brooks.
Buyer’s price will include a 10:00 a.m. appointment at Brooks Media offices on today, October 15th. Buyer will give Seller fifteen minutes of uninterrupted time to give an explanation to the Buyer. Once the fifteen-minute time period is up, Buyer may sign the contract and claim the title, CEO and President of Brooks Media, free and clear.
I stopped reading, staring down at the words in utter dismay.
He was selling—no—giving me his company? Just like that? Kline Brooks was just handing over his company and fortune for fifteen minutes of my time?
Oh, and he was tossing in Walter to, what, sweeten the deal?
What in the ever-loving kind of shit was this?
My knees buckled and I was thankful my ass was near the edge of my desk. I gripped the mahogany edge and tried to breathe through the intensifying tightness in my chest.
He had really, truly lost it. What did he think this would solve? Did he think I would just fall into his arms because he was worth over three billion dollars? That he could just buy me back with money?
Fuck. Him.
I would not be bought. Never.
He’d messed up. He’d ruined us. Our breakup rested solely on his shoulders, and I was more than ready to throw this stupid, insulting contract back in his face.
In. Person.
I grabbed my purse from my desk and stopped dead in my tracks as I reached the door to my office.
“Well, good morning,” Frankie Hart greeted, flanked by a very attractive man who immediately had red flags raising in my mind. I knew his face from somewhere…
“Georgia, I’d like to introduce you to Wes Lancaster, the Mavericks’ owner. He’s very excited about—”
“Wes Lancaster?” I cut in, my jaw practically falling into my purse.
And just like that, the red flags turned to puzzle pieces as everything fell into place. I knew his face because I’d seen his picture, in Kline’s apartment.
He was the Wes in the Kline, Thatch, and Wes trio. Which, seriously? Did they all have to be good looking?
“That’s me.” He nodded, a handsome smile consuming his stupid, perfect mouth. “Frankie’s had nothing but good things to say about you. I’m excited to have you on board with our franchise.”
I just stared at him. Speechless. Everything I thought I had earned in the interview went up in flames. I had a feeling I was only here because of Kline. How could I have been so stupid? No one got a call back after an interview that fucking quick, no matter how fast a company wanted to fill the position.
“Tell me, Wes, did you consult with Kline before the interview or after?” I snapped.
Obviously, I had lost it. I was standing there calling the owner of the Mavericks out.
My boss. I was calling my boss out on my first day on the job.
“Well…” He cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “He told me I’d be an idiot if we didn’t hire you.”
I glared. At. My. New. Boss.
“It wasn’t just because of him that we offered you the job. Frankie showed me slides from your previous marketing campaigns. He told me your ideas. And I loved them.”
For some unknown reason, he seemed more concerned with calming me down than offended by my unprofessional behavior. Because, let’s face it, I was being far from professional. So far, I had snapped at him, glared at him, and taken it upon myself to be on a first-name basis with him.
And I knew the reason why he wasn’t acting insulted.
Kline motherfucking Brooks.
Wes caught sight of the contract balled up in my hand. “Obviously, we’ve come at a bad time, and I just remembered I had a nine thirty phone conference.” He made a show of looking at his watch. “And it’s already nine thirty-two. I better get moving.”
Frankie’s head tilted in confusion. “But…I thought that wasn’t until noon?”
“Nope. It got changed.” Wes shook his head. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Georgia,” he said, ushering a confused Frankie out of the doorway. He pointedly glanced down at the contract before meeting my eyes again. “I’ve been friends with him for years because he’s one of the good ones. Don’t be too hard on him,” he added before heading in the other direction.
First, Kline Brooks got me to fall in love with him, before breaking my heart.
Then he called in a favor to his best friend so I’d get a new job, before couriering over a contract to sign his entire business over to me.
Was this real life? Was he fucking joking with this right now?
The shock of meeting Wes was quickly replaced by anger.
I strode out of my office and didn’t even bother telling my secretary I would be gone. Hell, with the floor show I had just provided my new boss, I’d have been shocked if they’d let me come back.
But I didn’t even care to rehash that horribly awkward meet and greet in my head. I was solely focused on getting to Kline’s office and letting him know how I felt about his offer.
Once my feet hit the sidewalk, I hailed a taxi and felt a surge of adrenaline rush through my veins because I was ten minutes away from shoving that ridiculous offer straight up his ass.
“In all the pining and whining you did over this chick, you failed to ever mention she was scary,” Wes said into my ear.
I rolled my eyes. He’d had to listen to me talk about her for a fucking week. That was it.
“Scary?” I asked.
“Fucking scary. I wouldn’t want to be you right now.”
Hope bloomed and blossomed in my chest. “She’s on her way?”
“Yep, as we speak. And she. Is. Pissed.”
I smiled. God, I loved when she was fired up.
“How long ago did she leave?”
“Oh, about twenty minutes or so,” he relayed in my ear as bedlam broke out in the office outside my door. I could see Dean running toward the office through the window, a look of pure glee on his face, and Thatch gave me the nod from the other side just as Georgia burst through the door.
She looked like Heaven and Hell and the sole reason for the constant ache in my chest for the last several days.
Hate and love and uncertainty all lined the edges of her face as she warred with herself at the sight of me.
I wanted desperately to pull her into my arms and feel the warmth of her seep into the c
old of me, but I knew I had work to do before it was even a remote possibility.
I steeled my features and rounded my desk, leaning into the edge of it with the calm of a man who wasn’t mere seconds away from coming out of his skin.
“Good, you’re here.”
Thatch slammed the door behind her and held it shut. Unable to resist, she ran to it, testing the effectiveness of all of his muscles with three sharp tugs. He didn’t budge, one hand on the knob and the other still free to throw her a jaunty wave and a smile through the window.
She growled as she turned to me, stomping her foot in the most adorable way, and then made every effort to kill me with her eyes.
I put everything I had into not smiling and glanced at my watch.
It almost worked.
“And for the first time in your life, you’re on time.”
She pinched her eyebrows together in question and didn’t do it lightly. There was real anger there, harnessed between them. She was raging, and every single piece of her wanted me to know it.
I nodded to the tattered remnants of the contract, another victim of her wrath, clutched in her hand. “The meeting at ten?” I explained with the lilt of a question. “It was all outlined in the contract.”
“Right,” she scoffed. “The fucking contract. What kind of a sick fuck does something as mentally unstable as this? Your company?! The whole motherfucking company,” she shouted and rambled. “An insane person. You’ve obviously lost all your marbles. Maybe Walter stole them, I don’t fucking know.”
She shook her head, her wild brown hair cascading and swinging and reeling me the fuck in. A handful of days without her, and she’d dyed it again.
She sure was something.
“What I do know is that if the meeting is at ten—” she glanced at her watch “—and it’s nine fifty-nine, that makes me early.”
I bit my lip and pressed my palms into the top of the desk to keep me there.
Her eyes shot to mine at the jagged sound of my whisper. “I’m so sorry, Benny.”
Her slender throat jerked with a forced swallow.
“I know I fucked it all up,” I admitted, working the edge of my tooth into my bottom lip to keep the pace of my words in check. I wanted to race and ramble like her, but I knew it wouldn’t do me any favors.
“But I’m begging you to listen. Watch. Take it all in.”
She shook her head and clenched her hands into fists.
“You don’t have to change your mind,” I offered—a desperate man clinging to whatever scraps he could get. “I want you to.” I closed my eyes and prayed as I spoke. “God, Georgie, I want you to.” When I opened them again, done with wasting any opportunity to see her, I made sure I didn’t even blink. “But all you have to do is this. Be here for a few measly minutes. At least I’ll get to fucking look at you. After that, you’re free to go.”
I shook my head, staring at the ground. I needed a reprieve from the havoc that pleading look on his face was doing to me.
“Please, baby, just five minutes of your time.”
Immediately, I looked up, glaring at him. “Do not call me that.”
He lifted both hands in the air. “I’m sorry, Benny.”
I cringed. He knew what he was doing, the clever bastard, and that wasn’t much better.
“Yeah,” I spat. “Me fucking too. I’m sorry about a lot of things.”
His face looked pained, but he quickly pushed the emotion down, forcing a soft smile onto his handsome lips instead. “Just fifteen minutes and then you’re free to go. I promise.”
“Promise?” I scoffed. “I’ve heard your promises. They’re about as empty as my pathetic heart.”
He couldn’t hide that pain, couldn’t push it down like he had before. His eyes creased at the corners, his lips mashed in a tight line. My chest ached as I watched him inhale a shaky breath.
I knew I wasn’t being nice and I should have stopped, but I couldn’t help myself. Awful words just kept flowing past my lips. Deep down, I wanted to throw knives his way until one of them stuck, cutting him as deep as he cut me.
“I know you’re mad and you have every right to be.” His voice was calm and composed and it only pissed me off more.
“I don’t understand what this is going to help,” I spat. “There is nothing you can show me that will change my mind, that will make me trust you again.”
He ignored the tight lines of my body language—back stiff, fists clenched at my sides—and guided me to a chair. He gripped my shoulders, urging me to sit down. “Just a few more minutes of your time, Georgia. That’s all I’m asking.”
I sat, but I didn’t want to sit. I wanted to be anywhere else but in that room with him. The simple touch of his fingers on my shoulders, his voice, soft and caressing near my ear, and those blue eyes, fucking slaying me with their pleading intensity—it was too much.
My heart was a rubber band and Kline was pulling too hard. Another glance into his saddened gaze, another tug on my emotions, and it would snap. I would end up doing something I regretted. And I’d be left with nothing.
Screw that. I wasn’t going to be convinced. There was no amount of begging and pleading and lines of bullshit that would get me to change my mind. I’d stay strong. I’d watch whatever he wanted me to watch, and then I would leave. We’d both have closure that way.
Once this was over, I was going to be out of that door faster than I’d barged in.
He fiddled with his laptop until the projection screen came to life. I huffed.
Did he really have to make it this dramatic? I could have just watched it, whatever it was, on my laptop—even my phone.
He stood behind me, hands on my shoulders again, and lips near my ear. “I’ve only lied to you twice. The first time was when I didn’t tell you I knew you were Rose.”
My head jerked to look at him in surprise and disbelief, a nasty rebuttal on the tip of my tongue, but on the way around, my eyes caught on the video playing on the screen.
Security footage.
It took a minute to recognize the location, but it was Brooks Media’s Human Resources. Cynthia’s office, to be exact. My brows rose when a crazy person dressed in muddy clothes burst through her doors. He scanned the room until he found what he was searching for. In three quick strides, he was at her filing cabinet, yanking open the drawer and fingers sliding through the files.
The messy hair. The taut, tight muscles of his back, stretching and flexing. And that ass covered in shorts. I knew that body.
My breath caught in my lungs when the camera zoomed in, moving past his face quickly, but not too quick that I didn’t recognize the jawline, especially the way it looked before he shaved, covered deliciously with two days’ worth of growth.
It was Kline.
My mind tripped into realization that he was filthy and sweaty because he had come from rugby practice. Which also explained why no one else was in the office.
But why was he rummaging through Cynthia’s files?
More importantly, why did I need to see this?
I caught sight of the timestamp in the corner. I counted the days in my head. It was a few days after our second date, where he had convinced me to go skinny-dipping at ONE UN. It was nearly eight-thirty in the evening and he was going through one of his employee’s offices like a lunatic.
The camera zoomed closer, showing the file in his hands. I couldn’t read the label on the edge quick enough before Kline was opening it, his finger tracing down the list of employees names.
The camera zoomed in again, blurry for a second before giving me a clear view. I watched his finger pause on one name.
Cummings, Georgia.
Then it slid across the page and came to a dead stop.
TAPRoseNEXT.
Adrenaline took over. My heart thrashed inside my chest as it furiously pumped the rush through my veins.
He knew.
He knew.
He knew.
It was the only thing my
brain could compute.
He was in front of me, squatting down so we were at eye level. “The only other lie I’ve told you is that I liked you when I knew I was already in love with you.”
My vision blurred, an unnamed emotion filling my lids.
Shock? Happiness? Relief? Love? I wasn’t sure which. I was too overwhelmed.
But my heart, my heart knew what it wanted. It was on an escape mission, frantically trying to pound its way out of my chest, begging to return home.
I blinked, once, twice, three times. The room was clear again, and those blue eyes of his, they were staring at me, intense and pleading and so damn full of love I felt it bursting out of him and into me.
He’d known I was Rose. He had known since a few days after our second date.
Which meant, when he had messaged Cassie, he’d thought he was messaging me.
“W-why didn’t you tell me?” I stuttered past the thickness in my throat.
His hand found mine, fingers entwining. “I should’ve told you. I know I should’ve told you, but I loved how open you were with me as Rose. I loved how you never held anything back. You were never afraid to tell me what you were thinking or how you felt.”
He would think that. For the love of Christmas, we’d had a conversation about anal!
“I didn’t want to lose that side of you until you were comfortable enough to be that way with me.” A heavy sigh left his lips. “When I sent that last message, I thought I was sending it to you. I wanted to be open and honest with you.”
He kissed my hand and then moved it to his chest. “This is yours. It’ll always be yours.” A frantic, erratic beat vibrated against my palm. “Please, tell me I haven’t lost you for good.”
I wanted to laugh. I wanted to smile wider than my cheeks would allow. I wanted to jump into his arms and never let go.
But I was scared. The remnants of the past few days had left a scar across my heart. I never wanted to feel like that again. I never wanted to feel so fucking lost.
“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes staring into mine, deep and unrelenting. “I love you so much. Please tell me you feel the same.”
