Regards,
Mr. King
I send an email back right away.
Good Evening Mr. King,
I've reconsidered your business proposal for Mr. Morgan's sake. I will have a few analyses tomorrow, so please be prepared to take notes. As I will be in order to create a portfolio from our meeting. Again, I'd appreciate it if you would address me as Ms. Watts.
Have a wonderful evening,
Ms. Watts
I sign my name in bold, italicized, and underlined. Then I realize how unprofessional it is, and undo all actions. I do, however, keep the bold on my name and send it. I shut my laptop down quickly and prepare my wardrobe. I'm impressed by my selections. I'm not a fashion icon, but guru doesn't fall short of me dressing myself. Usually, I don't spend too much time on my work attire. I'm not sure why I am today. The thought of Cruz comes to mind, and a warm, unwelcome feeling comes over me. I am not dressing for him, I say to myself. Literally to myself, as I look down at my lady part. Yep, I'm borderline insane.
* * *
My alarm sings into the air in my bedroom, I flail my hand out and tap it lightly to silence it. “Mondays are fun days.” My voice is less ladylike in the mornings, so sometimes I scare myself when I speak aloud. Today is no different. I stretch awake as I think of what today can bring. Two business portfolios for two different reasons. Today should be interesting.
Pulling up to my favorite café, I stop, and observe to make sure there are no policemen or arrogant business associates lurking. Bad enough I have to deal with him once today. Any more than that, and I am going to have a problem. I get out and power walk into the café. As usual, I order both my boss’s coffee and my own, grab them, and go. I start to sashay out the door, maneuvering my phone with two to-go cups between my hands. I successfully make it out the door without a spill. Yes! My phone beeps as I walk to the car, and I flick the fob on my keys to unlock my doors. I sit one cup on top of my car as I hear my phone beep again. I finally get my door open to sit both cups in the holders. There it goes again; my phone beeps and I know they are texts. I tap the screen; they're from a number I don't recognize.
Your walk does something to me.
I freeze and look around, then tap my phone for the next message.
Hopefully my arousal will subside by noon.
Instantly I know who it is.
“How in the hell did he get my number?” I sit back in my car and close my door. I start my car while reading the next text.
(Cruz) Mr. Lover boy Bryant, if you are wondering how I got your number, we have to communicate other than email, Honey.
I look around trying to locate my stalker, so I open a reply text.
(Me) STALKING IS ILLEGAL IN ALL STATES, I type in all caps. I get a quick response.
(Cruz) Only to the stalkee.
(Me) Uggghh.
(Cruz) See you at noon, Honey.
I do not like this man. He does all kinds of things to me. There’s a word for that. I’ll make note to look it up when I get home. My phone beeps again, I tap on the message because I just can’t resist.
(Cruz) Oh. Please do me a solid, and sashay into my office the way you just did… Sending address to your email.
What the hell? Where is he? I look around in search of where he might be. I put on my seatbelt and pull out onto the street. My phone beeps again. I glance at it and tap the screen while it’s on my stand.
(Cruz) NO TEXTING AND DRIVING!!!
Ugh, he’s a complete ass.
* * *
At work on time and Mr. Wilke is hot on my heels.
“Sunshine, how are you on this fine Monday morning?”
“Great, boss, you?” I hand him his favorite blend of wake-me-up.
“Blissful, my dear.”
“Good, did you and the missus have a great get-away this weekend?” He looks at me with a furrowed brow as he sits in the chair adjacent to me.
“Bria, why do you assume my wife and I are always doing things together?”
“Boss, because you two are married, to each other.”
He laughs. “We had a great time, Bria,” he says as he continues to laugh. “It was refreshing and well” His focus is on something outside my office window. I’m not sure what. “Nice,” he says with a long-winded breath.
I raise one eyebrow and sip my coffee. I stare at him, as he stares out the window. “Boss,” I whisper, but he doesn’t answer.
“Boss.” He looks over at me and stands as he grabs his coffee from where he set it on my desk.
“Sunshine, your office is a distraction. Settle in and meet me in my office in twenty minutes.”
“Okay, will do, Mr. Wilke.”
He smiles as he walks out holding his cup up in the air. “Thanks.”
Fifteen minutes pass, I’m on my way to Mr. Wilke’s office. When I arrive, he’s on the phone. I stay in the doorway, so I give him privacy. He looks up and sees me standing there as he glances at his watch. We could actually reschedule this meeting; I have something to put together for my noon meeting. Just as the thought enters my mind, he signals for me to sit. I wave my hand to let him know I’ll just come back. He has other plans.
“Hold on for a second. Bria, please sit; I’ll only be a few more seconds.” I slide into the chair across from him and try not to listen to his conversation. That’s when I realize, it’s Bryant on the other end.
“Okay, let’s get together sometime this week. I’ll have my PA schedule a meeting, and we will take it from there.” He looks at me to confirm, and I nod. “Sounds great, good day, Bryant”
Yep, that was Bryant. My boss hangs up the phone and turns to me.
“Okay, Bria what do you have for me?” I hand him the packet I’ve prepared. He opens it and looks it over. I have a copy for myself and turn pages as he does.
“Is this a flat fee or adjustable?”
“It can be adjusted,” I respond.
“Okay, I see you’ve thought long-term and expanding. Good, I like this, Bria. I just suggest you change the initial budget fee from $475 to $600. Your set-up fee should also be increased by at least thirty percent. More to accommodate you, and to walk away with a nice revenue. You are selling yourself and services too short. With your thoughts of expanding, thirty percent on your take will have you comfortably expanding in no time. I get that you’re doing something you like to do. It’s exciting, yes; but you want an incentive. And a little bit of motivation wouldn’t hurt. These aren’t your average day-to-day blue-collar men and women. These are elite business professionals; they are also paying for discretion.” I nod, as I listen to my boss’s suggestions.
“Which brings me to the form you’ve prepared, it needs to be revised before we send it to my lawyers.”
“Which part?”
“Add next to the confidentiality clause, a discretionary clause. Be more specific; mention that a high level of discretion is necessary. A screening will be performed if a client is referred. This will be long-term,” he says. “We already have a nice size clientele.”
“We do?”
“Bria, I told you this thing is huge. Your talents may seem like nothing to you, but you create magic. You also bring people together. Almost matchmaking, a love connection even. You should be pleased that people will pay for this sort of service.”
“Let me make these changes, and I will send them to you right away. I have a noon appointment, so I’ll have them to you before then.”
“Does this noon appointment have to do with Bryant?”
“Yes, it does.”
“Good, I’m glad you’ve reconsidered it.”
“Really, why? Tony’s great with numbers.”
“He is, but you’ll have Bryant’s best interest.”
Why does everyone keep saying that? But I don’t say this to Mr. Wilke.
“All right.”
“See, this business Bryant has bought into is not completely failing; but potentially it will, if Bryant doesn’t step in.”
“Oh.”
“The issue is his new business associate. Mr. King is no longer the owner of the company. However, he doesn’t want to see his brother fail; it’s a family business. Once he removed himself from it, his brother lost sight of what’s important to the family name.”
“Oh.” I raise my eyebrows.
“I know all too well, what that’s like.”
“Right, I almost forgot. Congratulations, officially.” Referring to the recent name change of Wilke & Foster Industries to Wilke Industries Finance.
“Bryant’s ability to rid a company of bad links is dead on.”
“I know, I’ve heard stories,” I respond.
“He needs to focus on that alone; and if Mr. King’s brother is the bad link, Bryant won’t hold back.”
I wince at the statement because I know how brutal Bryant can be.
“This will be where you come in at Morgan Entitlement Enterprise companies.”
“Well, I'll make sure the financial background matches all revenue earnings from prior years. We will need to figure where the company started to have problems.”
“Yeah?” he says as if that's not the only reason I'm there.
“Is there anything else I should know?”
“As a matter of fact, there is. Be careful of Mr. King. Bryant mentioned that he is a very single bachelor.”
“Mr. Wilke, this is business, nothing more. Besides”—I shrug my shoulders—“Bryant and I have talked about our ‘friendship’.” I motion air quotes, as he laughs at me.
“Friendship,” he says using the same gesture. I stand to leave his office.
“Yes. It’s something, not sure what; but as long as I have my best friend, I don't need a romantic relationship.”
“Unhealthy, sunshine.”
I just stand there with my mouth open. “That's what he said.”
Mr. Wilke just sits in his chair and laughs. “That Bryant is a smart man; don't take him for granted.”
“Trust me, Mr. Wilke. I'm aware of Bryant's intentions. I just don't want to lose him in spite of, you know?”
“Yeah, I do, so keep him focused.”
“Will do,” I say.
“Keep an eye on King; make sure he's legit. You can handle all of this, right?”
“I can. I won't be full time with Bryant’s project,” I disclose.
“Right, right. How much time will you dedicate to your own business?”
“My business?” I say aloud. “I haven't even given that a thought.”
“Bria, I'm only providing start-up cost, and clientele, love. You are the brains behind this operation, which reminds me. You have to develop a LLC, okay, by E.O.W.” He puts emphasis on it.
“End of Week, boss?”
“Yes. That's your deadline.”
I stare at him as if it can't be done.
“Are you okay with that?”
“Yes, that's fine. I’ll have one by then.”
“Good, it's all done then, sunshine. Make those changes, send them to me for final review, and I'll forward them to my lawyer.”
“Okay, boss.”
“Bria?”
“Yeah?”
“You can do this.”
I nod in agreement, as I turn to walk back to my office.
CHAPTER 8
Time gets away from me, as I make the necessary changes to my business portfolio. I look over it for a second time. When I’m done, I send it to my boss. I’m a little pressed for time, but I manage to update the files for the beginning of the week’s forecast. I email them to my counterparts in the company, so they can stay on task. A promotion granted me manager status and personal assistant to Mr. Wilke. It’s a bit much, but I can handle it. There’s no consistency with my social life, and I’m fine with that too. I love my job; socially I’m a drag, but professionally, I rock.
As I prepare for my noon appointment with Cruz, one of my co-workers walks into my office.
“Hey, Bria, how ya been?”
“Hey, Lisa, I’m good. Can’t complain.” She’s holding a piece of paper that she seems to want to question.
“Is this correct?” She holds up the email I just sent out.
“Let me see.” I look over the email; to assure I didn’t make any mistakes. The figures are correct, and I look up at Lisa.
“Yeah, they are,” I inform her, as she sits in the chair on the other side of my desk. “Something wrong?” I ask. Lisa and I had a great friendship until my promotion. She felt the need to revert to co-worker. I get the feeling she thinks I would out her to our boss about our girls’ nights out. They are wild, but I’m not that person. She doesn’t know that though. I couldn’t care less about what she does, and I know Mr. Wilke doesn’t care one way or the other.
“Yeah, something is wrong, Bria. I miss you. And is it true about the merger?”
“Oh, my non-mistake in the email, was a ploy?”
She laughs, “Yeah, Bria. I miss our nights out, our talks. Well, your ear is what I miss most. You listen to all my life issues.”
“Lisa, it’s been all kinds of hectic lately, and you went all David Chappelle on me.” We both laugh. “There will be a meeting tomorrow concerning business relations and what have you. So tell everyone announcements will be made tomorrow. Oh, I see what you’ve done. You don’t miss me, or girls’ night out.”
“What?” She lets out an appalled scoff.
“You don’t really miss me at all?” I make an inquisitive comment.
“Bria, I do. I was worried, scared actually. You and Mr. Wilke are close; your families know each other. I didn’t know what to think.”
“I understand, but you have to know I’m not that type of person. I would be just as liable as you would. Has that ever occurred to you?”
“No, not really. I just thought, you know. You being in your current position—”
“What? That’ll I’ll get a big head?” I interrupt her before she can complete her sentence. I shake my head.
“I guess,” she whispers.
“Not me. Lisa, you know that. The things you and I have done together, I’ve only done with you. I had no real social life before you. Then you distanced yourself, and I went back to watching the Discovery Channel.” She laughs with her hand over her mouth.
Lisa is a very attractive woman. She’s two years younger than I, and wild as shit after work. Two different people.
“You can laugh, but it’s not funny, Lisa. I can’t believe you thought I’d out you.”
“I’m sorry!” She jumps up, and runs around my desk to hug me.
“No apologies needed. Just don’t go spreading any rumors, about how mundane I am.”
We both burst into laughter.
“Let me make it up you, Bria, please? Girls’ night out Saturday. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Okay, crazy lady, Saturday.”
“Yay!” she yells, and claps like a two-year-old. Lisa is a hard-ass, but a girlie-girl always. She’s rough around the edges, but her heart is huge. She’d help the world if she could. That’s why I keep her around.
“I’m not trying to put you out, but I have a noon meeting, which I’m not quite done preparing for.”
“Okay, okay. I’m gone. By the way, the forecasts are on point for this week.”
I let out a chuckle. “I know, Lisa. You could’ve just called, but it was great catching up with you.”
“Touché,” she says and walks out.
* * *
I am fifteen minutes early, as I pull up to a very masculine two-story office building off LaSalle Avenue. The address Cruz gave me didn’t seem like the one for the health club. According to my GPS, I’m here; however, I feel like I shouldn’t be. Inside the lobby, there’s a security desk with a handsome man sitting behind it. I laugh to myself because he’s well dressed and looks as if he works as a member of the secret service.
“Good afternoon, Miss, can I help you?” The green-eyed man distracts me with his smile. He is gorgeo
us; it’s hard to look away. “Good afternoon, I’m Ms. Watts I’m h—”
“Oh, yes,” the green-eyed man interrupts. “Mr. King is expecting you. You go straight down that hall and make a left. His office will be right in front of you.”
“Okay, thank you, si—”
“Dusdin,” he interrupts me again. “Sparks, Dus-din Sparks.” He repeats a little slower and efficiently with his introduction, so I can distinguish each syllable in his name.
“Dusdin, thank you,” I reply.
As I walk down the hall, I think that was a bit odd. He’s definitely an employee of Cruz’s. I can see the developing arrogance. I get to the end of the hall and turn left as I was directed. My eyes bug out at the sight before me. I turn into what is the entire side of a building, which happens to be huge. Why in the world does one man need so much space? Before I sarcastically answer my own question, my attention is focused on a stocky man standing in what could be two doorways.
Cruz stands in the opening to another area of his office. It's different, but I think this is a foyer of some sort. It's nicely decorated in calm colors; the paintings are of abstract art. Not Van Gogh or Monet, but it still says high-class. Cruz’s hazel eyes are cold, and his stare is intent as he stands there watching me with the door open. I'm not quite sure when, but I start to move toward him. Cruz ushers me with his hand at my back. His touch is very warm; I can feel it through my blazer. Cruz hasn't said anything; the force in the room is alarming, as he continues to guide me to a larger area with another door attached. I break the silence.
“You have an office in an office?” Cruz still hasn't said a word. With his hand still on the small of my back, he continues to guide me to the chair at his desk. He manages to pull it from his desk with his other hand, as if he doesn’t want to lose the physical touch he has on me. As he signals for me to take my seat, I notice his black slacks and shirt are not necessarily business-wear, but are very complimentary to his body frame. The man’s ass is— Stop it, Bria!
What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1) Page 8
