“A wild-card who’s in a threesome.” I wink at him, hoping to tease him out of his grim mood. In the back of my mind, I wonder if he’s called NYU on my behalf, but I don’t bring it up. I don’t want to nag. If he’s remembered, that’s great. If he hasn’t, I’ll deal with the consequences.
“What time is your meeting at the university?” he asks as we sit down.
“Ten-thirty,” I mutter, not looking at them. I don’t want to think about my academic career going up in flames. Only a few days ago, I was sitting on top of the world. I had two perfect guys, they were supportive of me going off to Argentina for six months, and my pool game had improved by leaps and bounds. Now, it feels like a guillotine hangs over my head.
The table is crowded with dishes - scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, fruit and more. I raise an eyebrow at the spread. “Hungry this morning?” I ask as I reach for some toast.
“I thought you liked variety, Bailey,” Sebastian winks. He’s the most relaxed person in the room. He fills his plate with scrambled eggs and adds two slices of bacon.
Daniel’s more like me - he can’t eat either. He’s just pretending to munch on a piece of toast. “I haven’t forgotten about your meeting,” he says. “I’m going to call the president on my way into work. I promise you, it’ll work out.”
“Thank you.” I lace my fingers in his. “I know you have other things on your mind.”
“There’s nothing more important than you, Bailey,” he says lightly. “You should know that by now.” He puts down the toast onto the plate and rises to his feet. “I have to go,” he says. He leans down and presses a kiss against my lips. “I’ll be in a board meeting the same time you have your review, so I won’t be able to call you. Text me as soon as you know something?”
I put my arm around his neck and draw him into a deeper kiss. “You too,” I say when I let him go. “I’m almost as nervous about your board meeting as I am about my job.” That’s a lie - I’m far more nervous about Daniel than I am about the university.
Sebastian rises to his feet and the two of them exchange a hug. No words are spoken between them - they’ve been friends long enough that no words are necessary.
“Are you nervous?” I ask Sebastian once Daniel has left.
“I’m terrified,” he says. “All last night, I kept dreaming about Daniel’s stupid board meeting. This is my fault, you know. Juliette works for me.”
“You didn’t make her give Cyrus that photo,” I tell him. “And I didn’t plagiarize from Valentin Perez. Other people did. The situation sucks, that’s all.”
“True.” He finishes the rest of the food on his plate. “Want me to walk you to NYU and lend you moral support?”
I beam at him. “Would you do that? What about the restaurant?”
“My meeting with the insurers is not till one,” he replies. “I can do both.”
“Thank you,” I say again.
Yes, this is a pretty grim day, but my heart lightens as I realize something. I don’t have to face it on my own.
45
Daniel
Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.
Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Never bring a knife to a gunfight, they say. Unless Stone Bradley’s come through with evidence that Cyrus has been selling me out to the tabloids for years, I’m about to do just that.
“Mr. Bradley’s waiting for you in your office, Mr. Hartman,” Sophie says to me as I walk in. “And Ms. Kincaid is there as well.”
I close my eyes to conceal my relief. Though I didn’t tell Bailey last night because I didn’t want to worry her, there’s always been the possibility that Juliette wouldn’t show. Thankfully, she’s here, keeping up her end of the bargain.
“Thanks, Sophie.”
She smiles up. “You’ll beat this, Mr. Hartman,” she says. “I have complete faith in you. And there’s coffee in your office, and I ordered bagels and cream cheese.”
“Don’t worry, Sophie, I’m not going anywhere.” As I open the door to my office, I hope I’m not lying. If there’s ever a time for Bradley to earn the exorbitant fees he charges, it’s now.
Juliette’s looking out of the window with a coffee cup in her hand. Stone’s pretending to be engrossed in reading his newspaper, but he’s subtly checking out her ass. I roll my eyes, and he grimaces, abashed at being caught.
“Daniel,” Juliette exclaims, turning in my direction as she hears the door open. “I’m so sorry. Last night, I couldn’t sleep at all, thinking about what I’ve done.” She pauses and straightens her spine. “Never mind, the way I feel isn’t your problem. I’m here to try and fix what I did.”
“I appreciate that.” I’m not lying. Without Juliette, I’d have nothing to offer the board in my defense. But is Juliette’s testimony enough? Or does Stone have something more for me? “Stone? Have you found anything?”
He grins. “I struck gold. There’s a problem when you ally yourself with paparazzi sleazeballs, Hartman. These guys would sell their grandmothers out for a story. I waved some cash in front of them, and it wasn’t too hard to get them talking. Cyrus has been paying for reporters to stalk you and he’s been dropping some serious dough so that the editors of the tabloids will run your mug in their paper.”
Stone Bradley sounds confident in his claims, but accusations aren’t going to be enough for today’s meeting. “I need proof.”
He hands me a folder. “And I have it. Printouts of emails from your uncle to the editor of the Post. Communication between the photographers and Cyrus. Bank transfers. And much more.”
“He used a traceable email address?” I’m aghast. “How dumb is he?”
“Cocky, maybe,” Stone shrugs. Juliette’s listening to our conversation with keen interest. “Perhaps he thought he’d be above suspicion.”
He would have had cause to think that. I’d always muttered curses about the tabloids, but I’d never wondered why they followed me around. I was too busy running my family company to pay attention to that. Cyrus almost got away with it. Until he involved Bailey.
I flip through the contents, my relief growing as I read each damning bit of evidence. “This is good stuff, Stone.”
“I told you I’d take care of it,” he replies.
Stone’s earned his arrogance. He had twenty-four hours to track all of this down, and he’s come through in spades. “My bill will be in the mail,” he adds.
I laugh. “No doubt.” I stick out my hand and shake his. “Thank you for your help, Bradley. I really appreciate it.”
“No worries,” he says. He pulls a business card out of his wallet and hands it to Juliette with a wink. “Call me, Juliette. Let’s do lunch.”
When he departs, Juliette looks at me with a confused look on his face. “Did he just ask me on a date?”
I chuckle. “His timing could use some work. Then again, maybe he just believes in seizing every opportunity.”
She rolls her eyes, though she does tuck away the card in her bag. “What time is the board meeting?” she asks.
I glance at my watch. “Fifteen minutes,” I tell her. “You want a bagel?”
“No thanks,” she says. “I’m so nervous I’ll throw up if I eat.”
We wait in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Had she not involved Bailey, I would feel sorry for Juliette. Cyrus fed her a bunch of lies and half-truths, and she fell for it. But she did involve Bailey, and there’s no forgiving that, not by me.
Once upon a time, I would have said that Juliette and I were friends. Not anymore.
I walk into the boardroom on my own. Juliette’s waiting in my office, and Sophie will bring her in at the right time. First, I need to assess the lay of the land.
My mother’s sitting at the long conference table, as are the rest of the board members. Cyrus is present too, barely concealing his smugness under a somber look. I ignore him for the present, and give my mother a question
ing glance.
She rises to her feet and inclines her head toward the coffee. I follow her and pour myself a cup. “I would have come to your office,” she says in a low voice. “But I wanted to get a sense of what you are going to face.”
“And?”
“This could go either way,” she whispers. “I think Cyrus has something up his sleeve.”
“I know what it is,” I reply. “Ryan Communications voted last night to reject our deal.” That piece of news was in my email this morning, but I hadn’t shared it with either Sebastian or Bailey. The two of them are worried enough for me. I didn’t want to make it worse.
She draws in a sharp breath. “That’s not good.”
I nod. “He’s not the only one with an ace up his sleeve, mom,” I tell her with a small smile. “We’re about to find out if the board gives a shit about ethics, or if they care only about pedigree.”
Vincent Strauss rises to his feet, giving my mother a disapproving look as he does so. My mother, who is practiced at ignoring these slights, doesn’t react. Inside me, something hardens. If I prevail today, I’m going to clean house. Cyrus needs to go, and so does half this board. These guys are here because of their connections, not because of their ability. In the last few years, they’ve been more an obstacle than a help as I’ve grown Hartman, but I’ve held off from making any waves because of some misplaced sense of family obligation.
Cyrus did something important when he betrayed me. He made me realize that I’m not required to protect these people. They are going to regret pissing me off.
“Shall we get going?” he asks in his paper-dry voice. “I’d like to open by making a statement.”
Vincent is the Chairman of the Board, and there’s no dissent around the room. He clears his throat. “Daniel Hartman,” he addresses me with a definite tone of disapproval. “This board has kept silent as time and time again, you’ve dragged the good name of this company through the tabloids. But this latest episode,” he emphasizes that word with disfavor, “has cost us an important deal. Cyrus has made me aware that Ryan Communications rejected Hartman’s offer last night. It is my considered opinion that your appearance in the paper yesterday was the direct cause. I’m going to recommend to my colleagues,” he nods at his cronies around the table, “that we seek your resignation, and continue forward under more stable leadership.” His gaze rests on Cyrus.
It’s time to go on the attack. I rise to my feet. “Thank you, Vincent,” I gesture for him to sit, a deliberate and patronizing gesture. I have no desire to be conciliatory, not anymore. I don’t get angry easily, but my blood boils as I survey all of them. “It is customary,” I continue, “to be allowed a chance to defend myself. Let’s start with the picture in the Post, shall we?”
I press a button and the photo of Bailey, Sebastian and I fills the screen that covers one wall of the boardroom. “When I saw the photo, I was furious. Then I realized something that made me even angrier.” I glance around the table, holding each of their eyes in my gaze. “This photo was taken in my home.”
A couple of people sit up at that. Everyone in this room is united in their need for public discretion. But a man’s home is still his castle, and I’m not the only one unwilling to put my personal life under a microscope.
“I didn’t put that camera there, I assure you,” I continue. “And if I didn’t, who did?”
“I don’t see how this matters, Danny,” Cyrus interrupts, his voice tense. “The reality is that the damage has been done. We have to find a way today to move forward.”
“Indeed.” My agreement surprises him. “We do have to move forward, and more importantly, we have to clean house. Hartman has a long and prestigious reputation. Our company does not need to be tabloid fodder, right?”
My mother looks at me with narrowed eyes. She probably thinks I should be highlighting the results that I’ve delivered as CEO, and without Stone’s evidence, that’s exactly what I would have done. However, the documents he’s uncovered for me offer a better way.
“That’s right,” another gray-haired member of the board says, leaning forward. “Am I to understand, Daniel, that this means you are offering us your resignation?”
“Oh no,” I reply, my tone steely. “No, it isn’t my resignation that’s going to be on the table today.” I reach forward and punch in Sophie’s extension. “Sophie, can you ask Juliette Kincaid to come into the boardroom, please?” I take note of Cyrus’ sudden paleness with grim satisfaction.
Let the bloodbath begin.
46
Bailey
No, no! The adventures first, explanations take such a dreadful time.
Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
“Then what happened?” I lean forward, totally engrossed by Daniel’s recounting of the day’s events.
“The board voted unanimously to ask for Cyrus’ resignation,” Daniel replies.
“And Juliette?”
He gives me a sidelong look. “I was going to talk to you about that,” he says. “She offered to quit the team.”
“She can’t,” I exclaim. “Or you’ll lose your bet.”
Sebastian rolls his eyes at that. “Yes,” he says dryly. “Daniel Hartman is going to notice losing fifty grand in a bet.”
“I don’t like losing,” Daniel reminds him mildly. “Although in this case, I’m more concerned about what Bailey thinks.” He looks at me. “It’s your call,” he says. “The way the brackets are set up, if we win, we’ll meet Trevor’s team in the finals. If Juliette quits the team, we can’t replace her, and we might not make the finals.”
“Oh no,” I tell him grimly. “You tell her to show up tomorrow night and play her heart out. Fuck, I’ll tell her to show up. She owes me. I need to beat Trevor.”
Both Sebastian and Daniel chuckle. “That’s what I thought you’d say,” Daniel grins. “She’ll be there.” He shakes his head ruefully. “Remind me never to piss you off, Bailey.”
“And the restaurant?” I turn to Sebastian. “When can you re-open?”
He grimaces. “Six weeks, as predicted,” he says. “Still, the damage wasn’t as bad as I’d feared.” He shrugs. “It’s not a terrible thing for the team to take a break,” he adds. “We’ve been working our fingers to the bone to get the second star.”
“They’ll still get paid?”
He nods. “I’d be crazy to do anything else,” he replies. “My competitors were salivating at the idea of my team being out of work.” He snorts. “They were hoping to poach my staff. Not going to happen.”
“And Ben’s pulling through?”
He nods, though this time his expression holds sadness. “His hands are damaged,” he says quietly. “His career as a chef is over.” He sighs. “It’s probably for the best. It takes skill and temperament to cut it in a kitchen. Ben had the skill, but he couldn’t cope with the stress.”
“What’s going to happen to him?”
“I’m paying for rehab,” Daniel cuts in. “Then, after that, if he’s better, we’ll find him a job.”
They are both such good people. I feel really lucky that they are mine.
“You still have to tell us about your review meeting,” Sebastian points out. “Your ‘I didn’t get fired’ text message was a little short on the details.”
I make a face as I think about the meeting. “I was a bit anti-climactic,” I tell them. “I had a speech rehearsed about ethics and morality and all that stuff, but I didn’t get a chance to use it. They just told me I wasn’t getting fired, and that was it.”
“What are they going to do about the plagiarism?” Sebastian asks. “Are they going to fire Landrieu? Or reprimand him?”
“Who can tell?” I’m a little disillusioned. “Does the university have enough balls to create a hue and cry about Landrieu’s work? I doubt it. They were transparently grateful that I was going to spend the next semester on leave in Argentina, and there was no mention of my tenure window.”
“You don�
��t think they’ll offer tenure?” Daniel’s voice is sharp.
I shake my head. “Don’t interfere,” I warn him. “Not this year they won’t. They’ll need to wait for this to fade away.” I grimace. “Still, I didn’t get fired today. That’s a win, right? You take what you get. I was disappointed during the meeting, but I got over it.” I grin at them. “I have other, more interesting things to distract me.”
“Do you?” Daniel’s voice is amused. “You mean things like pool practice? Stone has assured me that the game room is free of any recording equipment. Want to play?”
I bound up. “I love games,” I say eagerly. “Let’s go.”
Epilogue
Bailey
I’m a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work the more I have of it.
Thomas Jefferson
July, the day of the tournament…
During the regular season, pool league is a fun, social activity for all except Clark Ellis, who really takes it far too seriously. Team captains match beginner against beginner, and expert against expert. Everyone stays challenged that way, and people can hone their game against equally skilled opponents.
The rules are different when it’s tournament time. Now, the objective is to win at all costs. As a result, when your opponent is a seven, the highest skill rank attainable in the American Poolplayers Association, the strategic response is to counter with a two or a three. Because of the handicapping system, the player who is a seven needs to win six games to win the match, and the lower-ranked player needs to just win two games to prevail.
I’m a three now. Trevor’s still a seven. I just have to win two games.
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