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Cowboy Baby Daddy (A Secret Baby Romance Compilation)

Page 89

by Claire Adams


  “Not good, I can tell you that. I felt like an idiot. But, I seemed to have regained my composure a bit. I want to take one more look at the notes before we head out, though,” I said.

  “Not a problem. I’ll take a look at them with you. Do I need to go get my laptop?” she asked.

  “Where’s yours?” I asked.

  “In my room,” she said.

  “You mean that area of the suite you haven’t been in all weekend?” I asked, smirking.

  “Shut up.” She threw her towel at me while her naked body stood there in all its glory. I could feel my dick growing underneath the sheets as she slipped into her panties and bra, and my gut ached to have her beautiful body covering me. I wanted to pull her back down into bed and ravage her. I’d mess up the hair she had just dried before showing her off to the world. Then I’d walk her down the street with my teeth marks embedded on her shoulders.

  But, I would settle for her warm body against mine as I reached for my laptop.

  “So, what exactly is this meeting for? What’s the end goal?” she asked.

  “Apparently, your father had it in the works to expand. He wanted to open up another store here in New York City.”

  “I got that from the notes. How do you feel about that?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea just yet, especially with the projects he’s rolling out. It’s like he instated all this at once. I am hoping that, by the end of this meeting, we can talk them out of expansion and instead broaden our reach by offering express shipping services straight from the warehouses.”

  “Which is why you asked me to collect that information on it,” she said.

  “Exactly,” I said. “I knew if we came with all the figures and details, they’d be more willing to take that route for now. I don’t want us to dig ourselves into debt to build a new place, especially since your father just dug himself out of it a year ago.”

  “The company doesn’t have debt?” she asked.

  “Yeah, and I’d like to keep it that way for a while,” I said.

  “Well, I’m glad we sat down to talk about this because none of this shit is in the notes you sent,” she said.

  “Yes, it is. I just figured with you asking me questions that you hadn’t read them,” I said.

  “No, seriously. Not in the notes you sent,” she said.

  I pulled up the email I sent her and, sure enough, I sent her the wrong draft of the notes. I groaned and lobbed my head back into the headboard while Stella giggled at my side before she cupped my cheek and turned my gaze toward hers.

  “It’s alright. I have the numbers and information. I’ll get them to change their minds,” she said.

  “I’m sorry. Last week was bullshit,” I said.

  “Welcome to the world of business,” she said as she kissed me. “Now, time to get ready. The meeting’s in an hour and a half.”

  The two of us danced around one another while we got ready, and by the time we needed to walk out the door, she was standing there in her heels. I smiled at her, wrapping my arm around her waist before I drew her in for a kiss, but she turned her head, and I caught her cheek.

  “Don’t muss the lipstick,” she said, winking. “Have to make a good impression on the boys. It wouldn’t look kosher if you walked in with my lipstick on your collar.”

  “Why do you think I wore the red shirt?” I asked, winking.

  “You’re so bad. Come on,” she said, giggling.

  We rode back to the client’s office, and the secretary led us directly into the conference room. There was a small table with four men already sitting around it and two chairs reserved for us. We shook hands, and they paid us their condolences for our loss, then we sat down and got to work. The first order of business was figuring out where they stood, and I breathed easier when I realized they were hesitant to open a new store as well.

  “I was hoping that’s what you would conclude because I think I have a solution to the problem. Stella?”

  I was wary of her taking control of this part of the meeting. Sure, we were working on her solo speaking when it came to important matters, but besides the moment in the park, we hadn’t given it a test run. However, I saw how good she was with the secretary when we arrived Friday, so I tried to abate my nerves.

  But, I was still ready to jump in at a moment’s notice.

  “Gentleman, since my father apparently tried to instill heart attacks in every single one of us, allow me to present to you a solution to your issues,” she said.

  She laid open a folder on the table, and the men leaned in to look at it. It was four pages of graphs and numbers I didn’t recognize, and I realized I wouldn’t be able to wrangle this conversation if it went south. I didn’t do enough preparing on my end to jump in should Stella bomb this meeting, and I felt my hands begin to pick at the hem of my suit coat.

  “Opening a store would easily cost around $500,000 to build it, stock it, maintain it, and man it for a year. Just one year. From what I can see, my father didn’t conduct any market research for the area, so for all we know, we’re tossing that money out the window,” she said.

  “What are these numbers over here?” someone asked.

  “I’m glad you asked. These products here are the five most ordered products from our store. Crutches, braces, gauze, medical tape, and iodine. These numbers in the first column are how much it costs us to make them in bulk at our warehouses.”

  “Seems about right,” a man said.

  “The second column of numbers is what we sell them for bulk out of the store,” she said. “But, this third number over here is what we would charge the customer if it were shipped directly from the warehouse.”

  “Why’s that number smaller?” someone asked.

  “I’m so glad you asked,” she said, smiling. “See, the upcharge between number two and number three is the ‘rent’ on the shelf in our store. We not only charge the customers one price but included in that price is a bit for the rent the product has to pay for sitting on our shelves. Since they aren’t on a shelf, it doesn’t need rent, so that money goes to offset shipping costs directly from the warehouse to them,” she said.

  “So, they can just go online somewhere and order them or something?” someone asked.

  “Exactly. We can offer three tiers of shipping, from one-week shipping to overnight shipping, we’ll still make a profit, people still get what they want, we can keep our reputation by continuing to donate to charity, and we don’t have to dig ourselves into debt with opening another store on the other side of the country.”

  I couldn’t believe how comfortable she looked. She was smiling and laughing, and the men around the table were eating right out of the palm of her hand. For every question, she had an answer, and for every figure, she had a sum. By the time the meeting wound down, not only had we cast aside the idea of opening another store, but they had signed off on the paperwork we needed to get started on the website.

  That meant we could hire a web developer to take us to the next level.

  “Gentlemen, it was a pleasure,” Stella said as she shook hands with everyone.

  “Your father did good, handing the company over to his kids. You are going to do well with it, I can tell,” one of the men said.

  “Thank you; I appreciate that,” she said.

  “Gentlemen, I was apparently not necessary for this meeting. But, it was wonderful meeting you all. When we get back home tomorrow, I’ll shoot you a timeline for when the website will be up and running, and by the end of the year you should be able to open your surrounding communities to all we have to offer here at Harte To Heart Medical Supplies.”

  “We look forward to it! I’ll keep a lookout in my inbox,” another man said.

  We shook their hands and shot the shit for a little bit, then we all dispersed. Stella was walking with her head tall and her chest puffed out in pride, and all I wanted to do was scoop her up into my arms. I pictured spinning her around and telling her how proud I wa
s of the way she handled herself in that meeting, but I kept myself restrained until we ducked into a cab.

  “I nailed it!” she exclaimed as I shut my door.

  “Stella, you were fantastic,” I said, smiling. “I am so fucking proud of you.”

  She threw her body onto mine and wrapped her arms around my neck while the cab driver looked at us. He was waiting for where we wanted to go, and I could tell he was getting agitated.

  “The DoubleTree Suites, please,” I said.

  “You don’t want to go celebrate?” she asked.

  “I thought maybe we could go back, relax a bit, possibly do a bit of work, and then I could take you to dinner tonight. You know, to celebrate the incredible job you did back there.”

  “Spoken like a true workaholic. Work until dinner it is,” she said.

  “We could work naked, if you wanted,” I said, grinning.

  “Of course, you’d be alright with that. But, you won’t get any work done. Clothes on until after dinner, then we’ll see where the night takes us,” she said.

  I contacted some web developers in the San Diego area and reached out to schedule a few meetings, so I could nail down getting our e-commerce site up and running as soon as possible. The deadline I’d fed the men was a little tighter than I was initially comfortable with, so I’d have to pay a little more for the right person to help us with this store. It was going to be as much data entry as web design, which meant I needed a top-notch designer in our corner to help us field this project.

  But, I knew it would be worth it. This would single-handedly launch Harte to Heart into modern-day processes. This was how businesses did the bulk of their annual sales now. They catered to the community and allowed their online store and relationships with their warehouses to do the rest.

  Dinnertime rolled around, and my stomach was growling. Stella looked fabulous in a royal blue dress and black high heels, and I couldn’t peel my eyes away from her. She was beaming over her success from this morning with her crimson red lips, and the way her jet black hair kept falling into her face made me want to get up and tuck it behind her ear. She kept going on and on about how nervous she was and how she could feel her mind internally battling her mouth, and all I could do was sit there and watch her lips move.

  It was as if time slowed down with her. In this scenario, with her beautiful green eyes and her big, bright smile, there was nothing else that mattered. I hooked my eyes with hers as she smiled and laughed, regaling me with stories of how she could’ve used my “tutelage” further. The way her lips wrapped around the edge of the wine glass mesmerized me, and I realized at that very moment what was happening.

  Stella was everything I had ever been looking for.

  She was resilient, independent, with just the right amount of stubborn. She was vibrant and vivacious, warm to her core but not a pushover. She was sexy as hell and had curves in all the places I wanted to lick with my tongue. She was the first person in my life whose concept of myself I had changed merely by spending time with her. She didn’t look at me with the annoying, arrogant look I was so used to.

  Now, she looked at me as if I was a man.

  Her man.

  And I realized that’s what I wanted to be.

  Her man.

  “To our company,” I said as I raised my wine glass. “May it always treat us with kindness and may it always benefit from our tactics.”

  “To our company,” Stella said as she held my gaze. “May it only bring us closer.”

  Then, as we clinked glasses, I raised up out of my seat and bent over to capture her lips. She tasted of wine and mint, no doubt from the toothpaste she used before we came out. There were no teeth clattering or voracious tongues licking and sucking each other up. There was only us, her pillowy lips against mine, and the panting of her breath against my skin.

  “What was that for?” she asked, fluttering her lips against mine.

  “You look stunning tonight,” I said.

  And the glimmering look of salacious admiration in her eye was one I wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Stella

  Tuesday morning came around too soon, and I wasn’t ready to go back. The weekend had been perfect. I felt like leaving it behind would somehow portend a bad omen for Christian and me. The city had brought out the best in the two of us, both as lovers and as business partners, and I wasn’t ready to leave our perfect little cocoon to return to California.

  We packed our suitcases and rode in a cab to the airport and laughed as we double and triple-checked our tickets. The secretary had picked first-class seats next to one another so we could chat on the ride back home.

  Right after we made it through the security checkpoint, I got a phone call from a number I’d forgotten about.

  “Hello?” I asked.

  “Miss Harte. It’s me. You missed our meeting yesterday. Everything alright?”

  It was my lawyer.

  I looked around for Christian, trying to see where he was. I was not about to have this conversation where he could overhear, especially since I was about to tell my lawyer to forget it. If he heard me say that, he would wonder what I was talking about, and I wasn’t ready to have that conversation with him.

  I wasn’t ready to tell him I had contemplated taking the company from him.

  I saw him dart into the bathroom, so I pulled over into a corner to wait. My hand was trembling, and I could feel my heart racing, and all of a sudden the confidence I had from yesterday morning drained through my toes.

  “Hey there,” I said. “I, uh, can’t really talk right now. We had a last-minute business trip that took us to New York. I’m so sorry. Can we reschedule?”

  “That won’t be an issue. I figured you’d probably want me to set things in motion, so I went ahead and solidified the paperwork. Once you start liquidating your father’s assets, you can begin legally purchasing the stock he had in his name that hasn’t been delegated to anyone.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked.

  “That was the loophole. Your father mentioned everything about his estate except the stock he still had in his name. It can be hung up in the courts to be settled years from now, which means you now have the time to liquidate the assets you do have control of and purchase the controlling stock of the company legally. Your father’s property. His remaining bank accounts. The excess money from his life insurance. All of that is within your control, according to his will. Which you would’ve known had you stayed for the rest of the reading that day. With the stock he’s already given you in the company naturally, purchasing the 10 percent that still has his name on it will give you the controlling share. Then, you can do whatever you want with Mr. Gunn.”

  “Okay, but that will take time, right? I mean, I obviously can’t start liquidating now,” I said.

  “No, but I can get a stay. The 10 percent stock that can’t be allocated properly ties up the transition of the company in court. Because this 10 percent isn’t settled, the company can’t be given over to Christian. Not yet. Which means it defaults back to the remaining living family. Which is you.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. My father isn’t alive to do anything with that stock,” I said.

  “To the courts, that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that it's 10 percent of stock he still has input on. I argued that point all weekend to a judge. I argued that because this stock can’t be settled without his input, and since he isn’t alive with to give his input, that the company cannot be transferred over to Christian until it’s legally settled. He either owns 100 percent of the business or none of it at all. Until it can be settled, the business defaults back to the family.”

  I was so stunned I couldn’t even speak.

  “Stella, Christian will be out by the end of the day. The company will default to you while he fights you in court for it, and by that time you can do whatever you please. You can liquidate or purchase controlling shares. You now have time to take back
what’s rightfully yours. That’s what you told me you wanted. I don’t give a damn what you do with it, all I did was fight for what you said you wanted me to. I’m headed to your office now to slide the paperwork under the door. All you have to do is sign it.”

  I saw Christian come out of the bathroom and begin looking around for me. I didn’t have time to explain to the lawyer that I’d changed my mind, so all I did was hang up the phone. I shot the lawyer a text message saying I would be back in town today, and we needed to talk. I could feel the vomit rising in my throat as Christian turned his beautiful, loving stare on me, and I felt like the most disgusting person in the world.

  I picked up my bag and walked toward him, taking deep breaths as I tried to calm myself, but I could tell by the look on his face that he could sense something was wrong.

  “Stella, you alright?” he asked.

  “Yeah, just a little nauseous,” I said.

  “Do you need some water or anything?” he asked.

  “No, no. I think I need to sit down. Yesterday was such a huge effort, and I’m taking time to breathe now.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him what was going on with the lawyer. Not when we were supposed to sit next to each other on the plane. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, no doubt a message back from the lawyer, but I settled on the fact that I could talk to him when I got into town. I could snag the paperwork he was taking to the office before Christian saw it, and I could tear it up. Then I’d place a call to my lawyer and tell him the usurping of the company was off.

  That we worked better as a team, just like my father probably understood we would.

  We got onto the plane, and Christian helped steady me on my feet. We sat down, and he flagged someone down to get me a drink, and he even opened it for me and brought it to my lips. He was being so kind and considerate, and the only thing it did was reinforce what a terrible person I was at the beginning of all this.

  He held my hand as we took off, my heart thumping in my ears as we made our ascent into the sky, and I could feel him rubbing soft circles on my palm. I felt my eyes lull shut occasionally. Every time I was jolted awake, there was something new to Christian had done.

 

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