by Amber Page
She’d go ahead and wallow tonight. But tomorrow it would be back to business as usual—which meant these fantasies about Nick would be left at the curb.
CHAPTER FOUR
NICK WAS JUST sitting down at his desk, coffee in hand, when his IM pinged.
Need you in my office. Now.
For a moment he was too surprised that his dad knew how to instant message to react. And when he realized that his dad was actually in the office on a Sunday his jaw practically hit the floor. This was his day to be on the golf course—”networking” over balls and beers. What on earth was he doing here?
Is this thing on?
He chuckled to himself. His father was no more patient in text than he was on the phone.
Yep. I’ll be right there.
Apparently he wasn’t going to have the peaceful day he had hoped for.
Sighing, he picked up his coffee cup and headed down the hall to his father’s corner office. The hallways were dark, lit only by the emergency lights. That was weird in and of itself. When he’d last worked in this building it had almost always been buzzing—weekends included.
Things had either gotten a lot more laidback while he was gone, or the company was in more trouble than his father was letting on.
Since his father’s door was open, he didn’t bother to knock.
“Hey, Dad,” he said as he padded across the thick cream-colored carpet, temporarily blinded by the bright morning sunlight that flooded the room.
In contrast to the dark wood and heavy furniture that dominated the rest of the offices, his father had redone his office to reflect the latest trends. It was all chrome and glass and shiny surfaces.
Nick couldn’t help but wonder if it was his father’s attempt to look relevant.
“Are you wearing flip-flops? In the office?”
Nick shrugged. The faded T-shirt, jeans and flip-flops he was wearing were his normal weekend attire. He’d seen no reason to dress up today. He sat down in the uncomfortable metal chair in front of his father’s desk and put his feet up on the glass tabletop.
“Yeah. Why? You got a client who wants to meet on a Sunday?”
His father frowned. “No. It just seems inappropriate. You’re a role model here. You should dress like one.”
Nick laughed. “There’s no one here!”
“Still, I remember when …”
Nick groaned. “Did you call me down here to talk about the past again?”
His father’s face tightened, and if Nick wasn’t mistaken he saw hurt flash across his face. “No. Of course not. I wanted to talk about your proposal.”
“What proposal?”
“The one we were talking about the other night. About establishing a digital agency here.”
Nick sat up straighter in his chair. “Of course. What do you think, now that you’ve had time to consider it?”
His father leaned forward in his chair, placing his hands flat on the desk.
“I admit I wasn’t wild about the idea at first. But I got to talking to some of our colleagues at the Goddess event the other night and it looks like you might be right. They were all talking about how well their digital arms were doing for them, and about how much room there is to grow in the online space. They’re treating it as the way forward.”
“Which is what I tried to tell you—”
“I’m not done,” his father snapped. “After the ball I came back here and dug into the sales reports and board updates from London in the five years that you were there. I was impressed by what I saw.”
“I thought you knew what I’d done? That’s why you agreed to let me come back and fix things here, isn’t it?”
“I knew you were doing well. I didn’t know why you were doing so well. Now I do.”
Nick smiled. It was about time his father acknowledged his success. “So, now that you do, are you prepared to listen to me?”
“Yes. I want you to take Thornton digital. In fact that’s the name I’ve put on the incorporation documents I’m having drafted: Thornton Digital. You’ll be president and CEO, and you’ll have carte blanche to do what you need to do to make it profitable. If you do, I’ll sell you my shares and retire. You’ll have majority control of the agency and be able to veto anything the board comes up with.”
Stunned, Nick sat forward, letting his feet slam to the floor. His father was giving him far more than he’d hoped for.
“There are only two conditions.”
He should have known there’d be a catch. “What?”
“First you’ve got to get Goddess back.”
Nick nodded. “Of course.” He’d expected that.
“And you’ve got to show a profit within three months.”
“You’re kidding, right?” That was nowhere near enough time.
His father shook his head. “No. That’s when the board is meeting to decide whether or not to sell. If we can’t prove that Thornton is worth keeping by then, they’ll accept the first offer they get.”
Nick slumped back in his chair. “You got any alcohol in here?”
“Of course. Whiskey or Scotch?”
“Whiskey.”
His father nodded and walked over to the bar discreetly tucked into a corner. As he prepared their drinks Nick thought furiously. How the hell was he going to pull this off? It was an impossible task.
Or was it?
By the time his father handed him his drink he had a plan.
“Question for you, Dad.”
“Hold on. Something tells me I’m going to want to be sitting down for this.” Before saying anymore he pulled out his chair, propped his feet up, and took a deep drink. “All right—shoot.”
Nick took a deep breath. “When you said I had carte blanche, did you really mean it?”
“Yes … why?”
“I want to buy Roar.”
His father sputtered, nearly choking on his drink. “You want to what?”
“Buy out Roar. Jessie already has a talented group of employees, a big chunk of business that we want, and a feminist world view that’s entirely missing from this company. With her on our side we could easily hit the numbers we need before the board meets.”
His father was silent for a long moment as he sipped his drink. Finally he nodded.
“Hmm. I like where you’re going with this. Two birds … one stone. Do you think she’ll bite?”
Nick grinned. “I’m sure I can convince her. I’ll make her a vice president—maybe put her in charge of the creative side … and throw a wad of cash at her. It’ll be a great opportunity for both sides.”
“You seem very confident that you can win her over. Why is that? I saw you leaving the gala with her. Are you romantically involved?”
“No, of course not. She wasn’t feeling well, so I took her home.” That was almost the truth—the evening certainly hadn’t ended on a romantic note.
“Good. Now that you’re taking on a leadership role here people are going to expect you to take your place in society. You need a proper wife, who knows how to entertain and conduct herself in public. Not some wild party girl.”
“Dad. You know I’m never getting married. I don’t care what society thinks.” Nick sighed, running his hands through his hair. “But I don’t want to talk about it right now. Can we get back to the subject at hand? If you’re amenable to the idea, I need to get a proposal together.”
His father stood. “All right. What do we have to lose? Put some numbers together as fast as you can. I’m going to have my secretary set a meeting for Tuesday afternoon.”
Nick nodded and left, already busy crunching numbers in his head. He knew joining forces would work out amazingly well for both sides. Together, they’d be unbeatable in the boardroom. And once they were no longer competing against each other it would be far simpler to convince her to start sleeping together too.
Jessie took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before exiting through the car door Nick’s driver held open for her.
&
nbsp; “Thanks, Bob,” she said.
“No problem, miss. Just doing my job. Knock ‘em dead in there.”
“I’ll try!”
The big man looked at her with a reassuring smile. “Don’t let him intimidate you. Brad farts and burps just like everyone else.”
Jessie smiled. “I’ll remember that.” Then she set off for the big glass doors, ready to face the dragon.
She’d been shocked when Brad’s assistant had called yesterday to schedule a meeting. She’d gotten the impression from Nick that he was pretty hands-off—all the more so since Goddess was an account that Nick managed.
She couldn’t help but wonder why she rated a personal meet-and-greet with the great man himself, never mind the door-to-door car service he’d insisted must go along with it.
No sooner had she stepped into the lobby than a tall, thin blond intercepted her. “You must be Jessie,” she said.
“Um, yes, I am. I’m here for a meeting with Mr. Thornton.”
“Oh, yes, I know,” the woman said. “I’m here to give you a personal tour of our space before the meeting.”
“Oh,” Jessie said, feeling more confused than ever. “And you are …?”
“Ingrid. I’m one of the assistant creative directors here. Brad thought you might appreciate a woman’s perspective on our company.”
“Why?” Jessie asked, alarm bells going off in her brain. “I’m not interviewing for a job or anything.”
Just then Nick appeared, his five o’clock shadow making him look even more ruggedly handsome than usual.
“Jessie, I’m so glad you came,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand. “My father and I were worried that you might have gotten the wrong impression about us—seeing how we got off on the wrong foot and all. We wanted to give you another perspective on our work before you hear our proposal.”
Jessie snatched her hand back, doing her best to ignore the tingles his touch had set off in her arms. “What proposal?”
Nick beamed at her. “I can’t tell you yet. But I think you’re going to love it.”
“Nick—” Jessie started, but he didn’t give her a chance to finish.
“I’ve got to run a quick errand, so I’ll leave you in Ingrid’s capable hands. See you in a few minutes!”
And with that he set off again, his quick strides taking him out into the sunshine in a matter of seconds. Jessie sighed, then turned to the supermodel beside her. She had no idea what was going on, but for now it seemed best to play along.
“All right, Ingrid. Why don’t you show me what Thornton is all about?”
As Ingrid chattered on about flexible hours and job-sharing Jessie tuned out, looking at her surroundings instead. Everything from the marble lobby to the maze of cubicles on the floors above reminded her of her years in corporate agency life. She didn’t miss anything about it. Especially not the politics. And now, thanks to the trust Goddess was putting in them, she was confident that she’d never have to go back. Thank goodness.
She’d never forgotten her mother’s last words to her. “Life is shorter than you think. Try to spend every minute of it doing something you love,” she’d said. And Jessie had done her best.
After Becky, her best friend and creative partner, had left the agency where they’d worked all the fun had gone out of it. That was when she’d known it was time to step out of the corporate box and go to work for herself.
“Do you have any questions?” Ingrid asked, and Jessie realized they were standing outside a conference room.
Since she hadn’t heard a single word the woman had said, she definitely didn’t. She just shook her head and smiled.
“Thank you for the tour, Ingrid. I really appreciate it.” Then she was struck by a thought. Maybe this agency was more enlightened than the ones she’d worked for. “Hey, I do have one question. How many women are in management here?”
Ingrid looked taken aback. “Oh. Er, there’s just me,” she said. “Although many of our senior creatives are women!”
Same story—different agency. “Okay, cool. I was just curious. Thanks again!”
The other woman smiled and disappeared into the maze of cubicles, leaving Jessie alone in the hallway.
“Guess it’s time to learn about this fabulous proposal,” she said to herself. Then, pulling herself to her full height, she entered the conference room.
She’d been expecting a typical cavernous corporate boardroom, so the cozy set-up of overstuffed couches and chairs facing each other around an oversized coffee table threw her for a loop. The only sign that it was a conference room at all was the floor-to-ceiling projector screen that was set up on one wall.
Brad was at an antique-looking sideboard, fussing with a mug of coffee.
“Jessie!” he said. “Thank you for coming. Would you like some coffee?”
“Oh,” she said, surprised to see him pouring for himself. “Sure—that would be great.”
A moment later he brought her a gleaming green and gold mug. “Sit wherever you like. We’ll get started just as soon as Nick arrives.”
“Is it just the three of us?” she asked, weighing her seating options.
Sitting on a sofa just seemed weird—plus she didn’t really want Brad to think he could sit next to her—so she chose a brown leather armchair and carefully set her cup on the glass top of the coffee table.
“Yes. We thought it would be best to keep this discussion quiet for now. Tell me, do you enjoy running your agency … Roar, isn’t it?”
“I do. This past year has been difficult, but all the hard work is starting to pay off now.”
“Indeed it is—much to our chagrin,” the older man said, a rueful smile on his face. “I certainly admire your entrepreneurial spirit.”
“Thank you. What about you? Was running an advertising agency always your dream?”
He set his mug down with a clang, clearly surprised by her question. “I never had to dream about it. Thornton simply was, and it was my duty to take the reins when my father passed on.”
“My father is big on duty,” Nick said as he pushed into the room. “And I’m all about passion. It makes for interesting meetings.”
“Nick, it’s about time you joined us. He’s right, but there’s one other ingredient in our recipe for success that he forgot to mention. Innovation.”
“Innovation?” she repeated, trying to ignore the way her pulse jumped when Nick brushed by her on his way to a seat.
“That’s right. And our latest innovation is right up your alley. Nick, why don’t you tell her about it?”
Nick looked at his father, his eyes pinched with annoyance. “Well, I had hoped to set the stage a little more, but all right—let’s get down to business. As I said before, we have a proposal for you that I think you’re really going to like.”
Jessie took a deep breath, trying to ignore the voice at the back of her mind yelling Get out before it’s too late!
“Okay. I’m listening.”
Nick gave her a reassuring smile. “Jessie, what you’ve accomplished with Roar in such a short time is nothing less than amazing. You’re making digital work for your clients in ways that I didn’t even know were possible.”
As he piled on the praise Jessie’s hackles rose. What on earth was his game? This current line of thinking didn’t seem to go along with his earlier “I’ll crush you like a bug” statements.
His next words made her snap back to attention. “Jessie, there’s no one I’d rather have by my side as I start my next venture—Thornton Digital.”
Jessie felt her jaw drop open. “What?”
“I’d like you to be my second in command,” Nick said, excitement plain in the grin on his face. “My woman in the trenches. I’ll be in charge of finances and big picture stuff—you can handle the creative side. Together, I know we can run circles around the competition.”
“But I already have an agency. I run it. All of it. Why would I leave that behind?”
He leaned forward
and touched her hand. “Actually, we’d like to buy Roar from you and make your people the foundation of Thornton Digital.”
Jessie snatched her hand back. “You want to buy Roar?” she said, not letting herself show any emotion.
“Yes.” His expression was serious now.
“And you want my people to come work for you?”
He shook his head. “No, I want your people to continue to work for you. As Thornton Digital employees.”
Jessie stared at him for a moment, still trying to figure out what his game was. Why would he suddenly want to join forces? There had to be a trick. But he appeared sincere—no agency-eating shark in sight.
“Uh-huh. And why would I want to sell to you, exactly?”
“We’re prepared to make you quite a generous offer,” Brad broke in, sliding a manila folder in front of her.
She opened the folder with a shaking hand, expecting to see a detailed contract. Instead, there was just a check—a check with more zeroes on it than she’d ever seen in her life.
“Wow …” she breathed, unable to keep the word from sliding out of her mouth.
“As my son said, we realize how much potential Roar has. We arrived at this number after calculating a conservative estimate of what your profits might be over the next ten years. This would allow you to pay off the business loan, the mortgage you had to put on your house, and to live very comfortably even if you never work another day in your life.”
Her mind was reeling. Weren’t loans supposed to be private transactions? “How do you know about those?”
“There’s very little I can’t find out if I set my mind to it,” the elder Thornton said. “This isn’t all we’re prepared to offer, either. As Executive Vice President of Thornton Digital, you’ll have an annual salary of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, with profit-sharing and annual bonuses.”
Jessie blinked. Hard. Although what they were offering was a life-changing amount of money, her stomach churned at the idea of giving up her freedom and going corporate again. But would her sister feel the same way?
