Power Play

by Julie Cannon

  “Did you take a class to learn how to be a bitch or does it just come naturally?” Victoria stood and Tate felt as if she were towering over her—not just by inches.

  “Very good, Victoria,” Tate replied, impressed by her wicked stab. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “I don’t. You just bring out the best in me.”

  Tate couldn’t help but remember their night together and found that her statement was true. She said as much, fully intending to leverage what she knew about Victoria to her advantage. “Yes, Victoria, I did bring out the best in you.” She knew she was successful when Victoria recognized the reference and her eyes blazed.

  “I don’t even know why I bothered.”

  She stood and Tate watched her back as she calmly walked out.

  *

  Victoria walked across the street oblivious to the people spilling over the white lines of the crosswalk. She entered a generic coffee shop, ordered a large decaf, and sat at the counter facing the street. It was just after five and people were scurrying from their offices to dates or running errands before their long commute home. She loved the energy of the city—the pulse of the traffic, the solid beat of commerce, of business being conducted every day. But today everything was a blur.

  What was she thinking by trying to talk to Tate? Did she really believe they would sit down and chat about her proposition over coffee? That they would talk through the misperception between them and everything would be like it was before? Before what? Before they spent hours exploring each other’s bodies? Before they cried out in ecstasy under each other’s caresses? Her hands shook at the thought.

  She was surprised when Tate exited her building and hailed a cab. Victoria hadn’t had the opportunity to notice much about how Tate looked. Her body was doing all the talking when she initially saw her. Tate was wearing dark trousers with a blistering white shirt tucked in at the waist. Her belt buckle was small but glinted in the sun. She had put sunglasses on the instant she stepped out from the revolving door, and Victoria remembered how she always wore them when they were outside. The light breeze ruffled her hair as she waited impatiently on the curb, and Victoria’s fingers tingled at the memory of how soft it was.

  Victoria remembered everything about Tate. Every minute they spent together, every conversation, every touch. She had fallen for her and couldn’t figure out why. What was it about her that made her pulse race at just at the thought of her? Made her heart pound when they were together? Made her want to be reckless and irresponsible and simply be with Tate?

  A cab finally stopped and Tate slipped into the back. She was talking on her cell phone, one hand stabbing the air as the door closed. The cab took off and made a quick illegal U-turn and drove right in front of where she was sitting. For an instant, their eyes met before the cab was halfway down the street, turning right at the first corner. Victoria was angry, hurt, and suddenly very lonely.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Victoria dressed carefully. She was wearing what she called her don’t-fuck-with-me suit, a classic Armani custom-tailored to her. The pleats on the jade green trousers still fell perfectly off her slim hips and creased just at the top of her shoes. The jacket was collarless with subdued brass buttons up to the neck. She left the jacket open, wearing a pearl white blouse underneath. She felt strong and powerful when she wore this outfit, and she needed everything she had to get through the meeting with Braxton’s board of directors. Victoria was the first to complete the final step in this bizarre process. She had thirty minutes to present her business case as to why Braxton should sell to her company. She had been preparing it for four weeks, and the brisk Atlanta November morning invigorated her.

  She was confident in her presentation but a bit jumpy worrying if she would see Tate today. She hadn’t slept much last night, finally getting out of bed just after five. She ate a light breakfast and drank only two cups of coffee before she headed to her car to make the trek across town. The last thing she needed was to be late due to traffic, parking, or the multitude of other things that could delay her arrival.

  Seventy-two hours later she was standing in front of her own board of directors. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming on such short notice.” When she looked around the room and saw expectant faces, her stomach dropped farther than it already had. “Braxton didn’t select us.” She had rehearsed how she would break the news but found no way other than to be straightforward.

  Murmurs and profanities drifted around the room. She spent the next quarter of an hour passing on the reasons Braxton had given for their selection. It was all about money. Pure and simple economics. “I’m sorry. I know you were counting on me.”

  “And you failed.” Edward Hamacher said what she herself had been thinking but with much more venom in his voice.

  “Edward, don’t be so harsh,” one of the other board members scolded in her defense.

  “Well, she did. She said she would get it and she didn’t. What are we supposed to say? Oops, good try, Victoria, better luck next time? This is the big leagues, folks. She didn’t deliver what was needed.” His face was red and his breathing fast.

  Victoria swallowed. “Edward is right. It was my job to get Braxton and I didn’t. I am responsible.” Victoria looked every board member in the eye as she spoke. She knew what this meant. Now she would have to reverse roles and try to sell Drake. If they didn’t find a buyer, they would be on the auction block.

  She trudged down the hall to her office. The board had asked her to leave while they went into executive session.

  She was sitting behind her desk when Edward Hamacher entered. He wore the same angry scowl he had in the board room.

  “You’re finished, Victoria,” he growled.

  “What?” Victoria wasn’t certain she heard him correctly.

  “You heard me, you’re out. The board has lost confidence in you and we’re making a change. You will receive the severance that’s stipulated in your contract and we will prepare a press release to go out tomorrow morning. Robert will be named interim CEO.” He was practically gleaming.

  Victoria’s heart thudded. Her ears began to ring, and she put a hand on her desk to keep from swaying. Fired? There wasn’t much she could say. She understood the board’s position. She had fallen short on a major goal, one the company desperately needed for its survival. If one of her staff had failed like this, she would fire them too. But it didn’t make sense for Robert to be in charge. The head legal guy usually didn’t know how to run a business. Victoria wanted to say as much, but there wasn’t anything she could say. Hamacher filled the silence.

  “You grossly miscalculated, Victoria. Maybe if you had fucked Braxton instead of your little dyke girlfriend you’d still have a job.”

  His comment and the hatred in his voice stunned Victoria. Was that what he thought of her? Was that what he thought she would do for this business? If she were a man, would he expect the same? Her heart lurched at his reference to Tate. She fought to maintain control and not show any outward sign that he had hit a nerve.

  “Edward, I think you’d better—”

  “Don’t you dare tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. You are fired. I suggest you leave now. Someone will pack up your things and send them to your house.”

  Victoria stood, and as much as he obviously tried not to, Edward leaned back just enough to tell her that she intimidated him. “Edward, I deserve more respect than this.”

  “You don’t deserve shit.” He was fuming, the spittle on his lips threatening to fly into her face. “You’re getting far more than you deserve. You had better leave before I decide to tell the board all about your little rendezvous with our main competitor for this deal. What will the board think when they find out you’ve been sleeping with Tate Monroe?”

  Victoria suddenly found it ironic that people always referred to sex as “sleeping with someone” when very little sleeping actually occurred. That was certainly the case with her and Tate. She fought down
a wave of hysteria that threatened to bubble into laughter. She had never been questioned about her morals or integrity, and now at the biggest moment in her life she was faced with the ugliness of what she had done.

  *

  Victoria hung up the phone and reached for her drink. The ice had melted while she talked with Claire, and as a result the scotch had lost of some its kick as it slid down her parched throat. She had been on the phone with every member of her staff the entire evening. One after another she called them and broke the news that Drake was not selected and she had been removed as CEO. They were all stunned and had offered their assistance, Claire even offering to leave with her in a show of support. Victoria had spent the last hour trying to talk her out of it. She wasn’t sure if she succeeded.

  What did she do now? She didn’t need to find a job right away but she needed to work. Not just for the income but for herself, her sense of self-worth. But where? The satisfaction she got out of her work at Drake transcended anything she could have imagined. She was contributing to something bigger than herself. Drake wasn’t just a company making money for its shareholders. Drake saved the lives of people every day.

  She had been working at one job or another for over thirty years without a break and realized she was tired. Tired of fighting—with Hamacher, for Drake’s survival, her feelings for Tate. Two out of the three were taken care of, but the remaining one was a doozie.

  Tate’s proposition had stunned her. Had she misread their relationship so badly? She had thought Tate felt something for her. It was in her touch, her caress, the soft whispers in the darkness. But she had been wrong, so wrong.

  What was she thinking? That Tate had harbored more than lust? She was young, vibrant, and on the fast track. They didn’t run in the same social circles, certainly not in the same business circles. They had little in common, if anything, other than business. Now they didn’t even have that.

  Tate had won. She was sitting in the winner’s circle and with it would receive the culmination of her dreams. Victoria was sitting alone on her couch, her dream in tatters.

  *

  “Here’s to the new CEO of Sumner Enterprises.” Clayton tapped his champagne glass against Tate’s and swallowed its contents greedily. “I didn’t think you could do it, Monroe, I really didn’t think you could do it.”

  Tate cringed at her boss’s verbal opinion of her. He had always jabbed at her like this, and she wondered why all of a sudden it bothered her. She bit her tongue to keep from saying as much.

  “What’s the first thing you’re going to do, Monroe? Buy a flashy new car with that big fat raise I just gave you? Buy a beach house in the Bahamas and get yourself a little housegirl?” He chuckled at his own sense of humor.

  “Redecorate my new office,” she said lightly so as not to offend, but she was definitely serious. She was rewarded with Clayton’s loud laugh.

  “That’s my girl, go for the bling. You deserve to look good. Nobody will take you seriously if you don’t. It’s not how much you have, it’s what you do with it, Monroe. Intimidation is how this game is played. The one with the most toys always wins in the end.”

  And you have plenty, Tate thought. For some reason her success didn’t have the sweet smell she expected it to have. She thought she would feel on top of the world. That she would feel like she owned the world. Instead she felt almost empty. Here she was, thirty-three years old, the CEO of a major multinational company, worth gobs of money, and she was sitting in a bar with a sixty-eight-year-old man. She should be celebrating with her friends or a lover, buying drinks for the house and basking in the compliments and accolades of her friends.

  But she didn’t have friends, she had business acquaintances. They would give her accolades on another successful acquisition and want to know all the sneaky details. She had been there and done that many times. But this time was different. For the first time she clearly saw what Clayton was. He was an old man with a chip on his shoulder, thrice divorced, and a sloppy drunk. She didn’t want to be him.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tate wandered around her office, the sun casting shadows in the dimming afternoon light. It had been eight months since she claimed her place as the head of Sumner Enterprises at the first of the year, and her portfolio was larger than ever, as was her bank account. But something was missing. The thrill she anticipated wasn’t there. The power she knew she would feel was absent. She had ascended to the pinnacle of her career and it wasn’t at all what she had expected. In meetings she was revered, respected, and oftentimes even feared. She could have practically anything she wanted with the push of a button, but she was empty inside.

  A few weeks after Clayton moved to Tahiti, Tate prowled around her living room, restless. She had plenty to do if it involved work, but for the first time in her life she wasn’t interested in work. She scrolled through her address book and with some disappointment found that of the hundreds of names, not one of them was someone she could call to simply hang out with.

  What had she done with her free time before she got this job? Who did she go out with? Where did she go? Did she work seven days a week, day and night? She must have. Why didn’t she have a single friend? There were names of dozens of lovers but none that she had shared more than a dinner, a bottle of wine or two, and a good romp in the sheets with. As far back as she could remember all she could see was school, work, more school, her job with Clayton, meetings, secret information, and more meetings. What had she become?

  She thought of Victoria more and more lately, as the excitement of her new job waned. She had been replaced at Drake, which had just declared bankruptcy. Tate had Googled her name several times but never found any information more recent than her position at the pharmaceutical company. Where was she and what she was doing?

  In the middle of a workday last week, Tate had driven by Victoria’s house and hoped she was outside so she could catch a glimpse of her but prayed she wasn’t out of sheer embarrassment at her actions. She was thinking about her now, her fingers twitching to pick up the phone and call her. But what in hell would she say? “Hey, Victoria, wanna grab a bite?” Shit, she probably would take a bite of her ass instead. And speaking of bites on the ass, Tate wasn’t accustomed to her body reacting the way it did when she thought of her. A shiver darted down her spine and her heart beat a little faster, occasionally skipping a beat or two. And invariably other parts of her body tingled as well.

  She had no interest in other women, much to the chagrin of those who were interested in her for the power or money she now had. Joni Roseville, the woman who had approached her in the bar and given her much-needed information on Drake, had stopped by her office several times when Tate was working late. The times she invited Tate for a drink, the look in her eyes carried more than a simple invitation for a nightcap. Tate always declined.

  It was Victoria she wanted. Plain and simple, but nothing was plain and simple anymore. She missed the challenge of Victoria’s mind, the way she studied a problem, her professionalism, her grace, and all the other little things that made her who she was. She was an astute businesswoman with an aptitude for analyzing every fact and synthesizing it in a sentence or two. She could ask the hard questions but wasn’t afraid to heap praise on those who deserved it. She respected everyone and, most importantly, she respected herself.

  Tate sighed, realizing how much it must have cost Victoria to get involved with her. What was she talking about? They weren’t involved, they had sex. It wasn’t a relationship, or an affair. Hell, it was barely even a fling. But it had meant something to Tate, and she realized it now. Victoria meant something to her. She had learned from her as well. She learned how to be a better person, a better businesswoman, without the hard edges and hard core.

  If she walked away from Sumner Enterprises her career would be over. Old man Sumner had made it very clear that this was her ticket. He had punched it for the next leg of the journey and he could just as easily kick her off the bus. Tate knew Clayton would
go ballistic. For some reason he was still adamant about Braxton, almost to the point of being irrational. Even though he had retired and usually left her alone, just this morning he had called and demanded to know if she had dismantled and sold off all the pieces of Braxton. Tate had made the appropriate noises and he went away satisfied. She didn’t think she could pull it off again. For the first time in more years than she could remember, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to.

  *

  “Come in,” Victoria called to the person knocking on her door. The individual walked in and within four steps was standing in front of her desk. At Drake, it would have taken at least fifteen.

  “Yes, Sidney?” Victoria watched as the young woman fidgeted.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Sosa, but you said to come to you if I had a question?”

  Victoria smiled to put the young woman at ease and motioned to the chair. “Of course, Sidney, sit down. How many times have I asked you to call me Victoria?” When the woman didn’t reply she said, “What’s up?”

  Victoria had been at the Jackson Heights Center for just over a year. The non-profit rehabilitation center specialized in brain and spinal-cord injuries and was recently listed as one of the top healthcare centers in the state. She loved working here, especially knowing that she helped others make a difference in the lives of men, women, and children every day. At Drake she was too far removed from the day-to-day activities to see any real results. Here at the center, she shared in the residents’ accomplishments even if they were as simple as picking up a potato chip without crushing it. Nothing was simple for these people.

  The husband of an acquaintance had given her the lead on the job. Jackson Heights needed a new administrator, one with business experience who could fine-tune the operation into the best it could be. Victoria had never worked in this capacity, but her experience at Drake and her natural ability to interact with people and put them at ease got her the job. She was making a fraction of what she had before, but money wasn’t what this job was all about. The grind of corporate America hadn’t allowed much time for herself, but her new role did. She had started training for the Atlanta marathon in the fall and just this morning had run ten miles in the cool Atlanta spring morning.