There’s nothing I can do to get Remi Stone out of my head.
Tom stopped by my office earlier, bragging about getting reservations to Deco. He was trying to throw it in my face, not the reservation because those are easy for me to get, but his date with Remi.
Oddly, it frustrates me in a way he wouldn’t understand. He assumes It’ll upset me because he will inevitably have more sway on the board—which isn’t true. Remi is not the type that would be swayed due to a love interest.
He doesn’t realize I’m sitting here jealous that he gets to be out with her.
I decided to call the entertainment entities with photographers that stalk the area, and they sent me pictures of the two arriving. Tom in a handsome suit, Remi splayed on the cement. Seeing the unflattering photos of her should make me lose all interest, but instead, I’m jealous. Jealous of the barrage of pictures of Tom helping her up and assisting her through the door.
Fuck, I hate feeling jealous.
I think about what they’re eating, what they’re talking about—the fact that Tom knows worlds more than I do about this enigma of a woman. The clumsy genius that my heart keeps tripping over.
Finally, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I pull out my phone and text Tom.
Gabriel: Hey, Tom! I think it’s great that you’re being so welcoming to our newest director. Just remember, she’s probably nervous. Don’t rush into anything.
A minute later, my phone vibrates, and I flip it over so fast I nearly launch it across the room.
Tom: Maybe you should be telling her that. Halfway through dinner, she’s telling me she’s not wearing any panties. And it’s all good bro, nothing against the books.
I feel a certain numbness I’ve felt very few times in my life. Once when my grandfather, the person I looked up to more than anyone in my life, passed. Another time was when I looked at the financial documents for the first time after my father died. And now—I am feeling it over a woman—Remi Stone, a brainiac geek that is obviously hot for Tom.
Gabriel: Well, just checking in. Good luck.
I wanted to tell him he better not treat her like his past conquests. That he act decent and respectful.
Maybe I should call Remi, just to make sure she’s okay.
I rationalize the thought in my head, but then I have a better idea. I text Analise.
Gabriel: Could you do me a favor?
Analise: A favor? I’m in bed in my comfy pajamas. What do you want?
Gabriel: Can you check on Remi? Send her a text?
Analise: Why?
Gabriel: I just want to make sure she’s okay. She’s important to my company, to my plans.
Analise: You like her.
Gabriel: NO!!!
Analise: Yes, you do, but don’t worry, I’ll text her. How does this sound: “How’s the date? Oh, and don’t go too far—Gabe wants to be your first.”
Gabriel: Ana! You know how important she is. If she gets upset over any of Tom’s usual bullshit, I could lose out big. If she quits, my plan’s shot!
Analise: Text her yourself.
I throw down my phone, angry. I trust Analise more than I trust most people, having known her for most of my life.
Ana was born three years after myself, a beautiful child that grew into a drop-dead gorgeous woman. Cregor was against her joining Icor Tech from the very beginning, and early on, he tried everything he could to see her gone. When she TPed his office with friends, he went so far as to bring their dismissal up for a vote. A vote! Those types of things aren’t taken lightly.
The truth is, she’s so much like Cregor it’s scary. A better version of Cregor. Cregor 2.0. Just what I need.
One day, I fully intend to put Analise on the board, but with Cregor around, that is impossible. As well intending as my grandfather was, he ended up hindering Ana’s career and my ability to initiate change—good change.
I pull up the pictures of Remi again in her silver sequined dress, boots coming midway up her thigh. It doesn’t seem like something she’d wear based on the information I’ve gathered on her, but maybe she just wanted to impress Tom.
Her makeup is more flamboyant as well. Perhaps she went to a salon anticipating tonight. Maybe not wearing underwear was a well thought out decision.
Why am I even thinking about this woman? My company is in dire need of help—so much so I have to agree to an arranged marriage, and I’m thinking of her?
I force myself to look at Sayo’s picture. Most men would be more than happy to marry into her beauty and wealth. My own mother certainly was when she married my father.
And in the end, my mom saw the error of her ways. Marrying my father might have brought her into wealth very few ever possess, but he treated her like an accessory, a pretty decoration. There was no warmth, and as she aged, he paid less attention to her, while paying the younger household staff more. It’s how she grew to live for me and me alone, and now the hope of grandchildren.
Every time I’m in the same room as my mother, the subject of babies comes up. Of course, Sayo and I will have to have children, but how we will go about that is a mystery even to me. Maybe Sayo will want to go the old-fashioned route, although I think it’s more likely she’ll prefer a baster. That is if she even decides to carry our children herself. She could just as easily go the rent-a-womb method so many wealthy women choose nowadays.
I know this must sound strange, but as beautiful as Sayo is, I don’t want to do the old fashion method. I guess some men would be perfectly fine fucking their wives that want nothing to do with them, but not me. I hope Sayo and I can form a good partnership based on mutual trust and respect, but there will never be lust. Maybe there could be love.
My mind races trying to find a way out of all this, just as it has a hundred times before, but it finds nothing. I’m trapped. I’m marrying Sayo Nguyen.
It was Sayo’s father, Chenglei, that approached me. Somehow—he knew. He knew the writing on the wall, where Icor Tech was headed, and he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
It doesn’t feel good knowing that I’ll probably have to be bailed out at one point by my fiancé’s father, but at least the safety net is there.
After we agreed to terms, he approached my mother, pretending he had gone to her first. She arranged for us to meet at dinner. It was the first time I ever met Sayo.
We sat across the table from one another, staring at each other throughout the night. Her dead eyes gave away part of her story, a conversation we had later told me the rest.
No matter what either of us wanted, though, by the end of the night, we were engaged.
And still are.
Formal announcements will go out in two weeks, so we can get certain documents signed first. It’s the kind of thing you do when big money marries into big money.
I put Sayo’s picture down and bring Remi’s up again. I wonder if Sayo will care if I see Remi. I mean, once Tom is through with her and we’ve gotten to know each other, maybe we can pursue something casual. Sayo certainly won’t want to fulfill my needs, and with Remi living in the Tower, we are afforded discretion.
Remi deserves more than being some sidepiece. There is no way a life with Remi could ever work. I’m sure I’ll come to an arrangement with Sayo, but Remi will never be part of the deal.
Remi’s voice haunts me. “I’m not wearing any panties,” it says. I try to imagine how she would say it. Would she make her voice sultry? Or maybe she would say it in a chipper tone, excited by what they would do together. Did she give him a wink? Is he touching her now?
Just the thought of Tom touching her sends my stomach lurching.
I’m angry. Once again, life is just so unfair. Then I force myself to think of the thousands of people that would be out of a job if Icor Tech goes under, and it focuses my thoughts.
This is my job. My responsibility. If anyone has to be a martyr, it should be me. I was born into this position, and the sword is mine to fall upon. At least, if anything, I get to m
ake sure Remi gets the position she deserves, one that will see her doing great things. Too bad, I have to see them all.
CHAPTER 12
Remi’s heart-shaped pendant…
I arrive for coffee with Gabriel a full fifteen minutes early, wearing matching shoes. This is going to be the second time I’ve met him face to face, and I want him to see that I am indeed capable of being professional and looking like a grown-ass woman.
He bids me by text to enter the elevator that brings me up to his suite. I step out into the now-familiar luxury that I’ll never be able to really get used to, and the sight of Gabriel takes the breath from my lungs.
This time, he’s not dressed in casual attire. Instead, he’s donning a suit so tailored to his form it’s easy to tell just how muscular his body is. I have to bring my hand up to my mouth to make sure I haven’t drooled all over myself.
“Cappuccino, latte, espresso? Pick your poison.”
“Poison? Is that what you serve your newest directors? Is it a test to see if I’m strong enough for the position?”
He chuckles lightly, but the light is gone from his eyes. “No, I will not make you endure poison, although I’m sure you would pass all tests.”
“Well, then, I’ll take my coffee the same way I did before, cream and sugar.”
“You’re easy to please.”
I follow him to the kitchen and seat myself at the island while he busies himself with various gadgets.
“I would assume you’d have someone do that for you,” I say.
“It’s true that I have people to do a lot of the day to day crap, like cleaning and even cooking, but I always make sure to know my way around every coffeemaker I come across. You know, in case the zombie apocalypse happens.”
“We all should really fret a little more about said apocalypse. I did a research paper on it, actually.”
Gabriel casts me a wink. “I know. It’s available to read from your university.”
I blush, completely unaware he had read any of my work. “Well, it was meant to speak to plagues in current times, but the zombie element was meant to draw—”
“No need to explain. It was brilliant.”
A steaming cup is set in front of me, then one is placed on the opposite side of the island. I wish he would sit next to me again, close enough to touch, but it appears he wants a face to face chat. He takes off his blazer, and I damn near melt into a puddle on the floor seeing him in a pin-striped button-up shirt underneath a Magic Mike style vest.
And yes, I’ve seen Magic Mike before, though not from my own want. The retired librarian I had roomed with in college had a perchance for beefy men.
“So, how was your first week on the job?”
“Uneventful,” I say.
“That will soon change.”
I grow nervous, hoping that whatever drama I encounter will be with numbers and not people.
“I need to level with you, Remi. I know I bombarded you on Monday during the meeting. You weren’t expecting it, but I needed you to produce a genuine reaction. The reason I’m taking you on, giving you the director position, is because Icor Tech is in desperate need of some updates. And I mean desperate. If something doesn’t change soon—well, I don’t even want to go there during this conversation.”
Icor Tech desperate? I mean, I’ve seen a lot of inefficiencies, and I’ve wondered how on Earth they operate with some of their numbers, but for the first time I realize, maybe they’re not…or they won’t be for much longer.
“I need you to be an enactor of change,” Gabriel says.
“But…but,” I stammer, looking down at my coffee. “Why me?”
“Because you saw the first in a series of necessary changes without me having to point it out for you. And to be quite honest, how you even saw them from your program manager position is beyond me.”
“All this, because I saw an inefficiency with a dated platform? You could have just pulled me and put me over some of the projects necessary to bring it up to speed.”
“Well, it’s not that easy. First, in order to even enact these changes, it needs to be brought up to a vote. In order for the vote to swing my way, it has to be brought up by someone other than me.”
I scrunch my brows in confusion.
“My father was a pariah, and people assume I’m the same. He’s the reason we’re in the mess we’re in. It’s not that he failed to see what needed to be done, although he did. It’s that he lost the trust of the board and the directors, and I’ve yet to recover it.”
“Oh, so the only reason my proposal is coming up for a vote is because I presented it and not you?”
“Kind of. I could have forced a vote, but I could not get the votes. Coming from you, the votes may be on our side.”
“I don’t know. Many of them hate me.”
“But Tom doesn’t, and he has considerable pull. He’s the one that will help you get the board and the directors on your side. And once we secure the switch to Expressions, I have other things for you to enact,” he says, staring at me intensely. “Bagel, yogurt, eggs, bacon?”
“Bagel’s fine,” I say, mulling over his words.
He busies himself again, and I start to put together the puzzle pieces he’s left scattered for me.
“So, you want me to bring up the things you cannot. And—you need my vote when it’s time to cast.”
He turns, pointing his finger at me. “Exactly.”
“And you’re positive I’ll play by your rules.”
“Absolutely positive.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you care about numbers more than politics. None of the changes I want to make are political in nature. I’m not trying to get on anyone’s good side, incentivize anything, make some fucking vendor happy. I want the numbers to provoke your outcome.”
“Here I thought I was promoted for my work ethic and brains,” I say, slumping my shoulders.
“It’s not a bad thing. I’m not saying you don’t deserve the position, but there was a strategy behind it as there should be with every decision. And your work ethic is fabulous, but there are a lot of idiots with a great work ethic. You’re the whole package.”
“You say you don’t want political decisions, but my promotion is political.”
His face falls. “Yes, I made a political move, but one that I felt was necessary. And as CEO, I have to make these types of decisions, but I want you to make your choices differently.”
It makes sense, and I have an enormous amount of respect for Gabriel, even more than I had after first meeting him. I was a pawn to him, but a very well chosen one.
“I think we’ll work well together,” I say.
“Yes, and don’t worry, I plan on having a great hovercraft engineered for you. Professor X would be jealous.”
A hovercraft? My face contorts in confusion.
Gabriel grabs a remote, hits a button, and the island comes to life. I’m a little shocked, though I shouldn’t be. Gabe’s the head of a major tech company, of course, he has all the latest technologies built into every nook and cranny.
I look on as an image forms. It’s of a black limo. The door opens and out steps Tom, then myself in a silver sequined dress. I bring my hand up to my mouth, my eyes widening.
“Turn it off,” I shout, shielding my eyes.
“But you’re missing the best part!” Gabriel chuckles, setting a plate in front of me.
The plate’s accompanied by a tray full of various cream cheeses, jellies, and butter, but I no longer feel hungry.
“Did this make the news or something?” I say, trying to keep my tears at bay.
“The news? Jesus, no. I have several entertainment reporters in my contacts.”
“And they just decided to call you up and give this to you?”
“Well, not exactly. A little bird told me Tom was taking you to Deco, and I decided to see how well you clean up.”
How well I clean up?
“I’ve tak
en most of the footage out of rotation. It won’t see the light of day unless some obscure reporter puts it out there—but then it would really go nowhere. No one’s looking for a girl falling on her ass. They might care if Angelina Jolie does, though.”
“Yeah, lucky me.”
I force myself to eat my food, trying not to be rude. Gabriel seems to have lost his jovial outlook from our first meeting.
“So, is it okay I went on a date with Tom?”
“It’s all above board,” he says, looking down at his plate.
I don’t really like how he’s acting. He seems full of fake smiles and random looks of forlorn despair. It’s understandable though, with the state of his company and how no one listens to him.
“You know, you really should get your top Mechanical Engineer on my hovercraft pronto,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
“Should I? Do you have any recommendations?”
“Well, I’m sure you’ve seen my degree. My previous position.”
He smiles, and my heart feels close to bursting. It’s like all the world’s handsome was poured into one perfect man.
“Have you always been so clumsy?”
I blush. “Well, my mind is always going in so many different directions. There’s nothing wrong with me physically if that’s what you’re asking. I’m just always distracted.”
“You know, it would probably save me a lot of money if I bought you a handler.”
“A handler?”
“You know, those people that guide mascots around.”
“So, I’m…a mascot?”
“Well, they are kind of cute and adorable,” he says.
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