After I hit send, I delete all of the other messages. When something catches my interest, I focus all of my attention on it. And, Leigh intrigues me.
It’s weird, I think, but there’s something about this girl. She feels genuine and that’s not something I encounter often.
An alert sounds and I look down. She already wrote back and I open the new message. “Gangsters and jazz, huh? I’m intrigued…”
Me, too, honey.
“I’m not a sports fan,” she continues, “so, I’ll take your word about the Cubs ruling. However, you must understand some things about me, too. I love my morning coffee more than breathing and it has to be hot and black.”
I pick up my mug and take a drink. I couldn’t agree more.
“My family means the world to me and I’d do anything for them. My idea of a perfect night is curling up in a chair with a good book and my dog. I don’t have the dog yet, though, because my building doesn’t allow pets : ( What about you?”
I lean back in my chair and decide how to answer. A good book and a dog is her perfect night? And, technically, she doesn’t even have the dog yet.
Shit, that’s kind of sad.
Maybe she doesn’t go out much. I could take her out on the town and show her off. We would eat at some new, chic restaurant that would be impossible for a normal person to get into and then take a spin in the Lamborghini. Drive across the Golden Gate Bridge and stop at some quaint little bar in Sausalito for a drink. Then, we’d go back to my place and I’d pull her into my arms and-
“Mr. Carson?”
I look up and frown. “What?” I snap. I hate being interrupted when I’m in the middle of a thought.
Becca stands in the doorway, pushes up the tortoiseshell glasses that slide down her thin nose, and wrings her hands. She’s a nervous creature, always looking at me like a deer caught in headlights. She’s filling in since my last assistant was promoted and it takes her five minutes to spit anything out.
I lose patience fast with people who waste my time and Becca walks that fine line. I really need to find someone else or I might end up saying something I regret. And, then I can just imagine Becca bursting into tears and running away.
God, I hate it when women cry. I don't know what to say or do. It makes me uncomfortable and I will do anything to avoid it.
“Um,” she says. Behind the lenses, her eyes actually look like they might be shimmering already.
I take a deep breath and soften my voice. “What do you need, Becca?”
“Your ten o’clock appointment is here,” she whispers.
“My ten o’clock-” With a frown, I pull up my calendar. Oh, right. Dan McPherson. “Send him in.”
She disappears before the words are even out of my mouth. I roll my eyes. The last thing I want is to have to tiptoe around fragile employees. I know that I can be loud, difficult and demanding so I prefer the people who work for me to have thick skin. I hate crybaby shit.
“Drew, good to see you,” Dan says as he walks inside my office.
I shake his hand and motion for him to sit in the leather chair in front of my desk.
“You, too, Dan. Have a seat.”
Dan McPherson is the closest thing to a real friend that I have out here. We met years ago at a neighborhood bar when we were both new to the city and struggling to make it. Shrewd and intelligent, it didn’t take either of us long to find a modicum of success. Within a year, we both launched into the San Francisco stratosphere.
“I hate to give you bad news this early on a Monday, but James Douglas is about to kick you in the jewels. Literally.”
A muscle flexes in my cheek. Bastard. I had a feeling our little run-in over the weekend was going to cause problems. That’s why I tried to avoid him.
“What the hell happened outside the Pacific Club?” Dan asks. His keen gaze lowers to my jawline. “Nice bruise, by the way.”
I shift my weight in the chair and narrow my eyes. “That fucker came after me. What was I supposed to do?”
“Walk away.”
My lips tighten and my hand clenched into a fist. I wish Douglas was here so I could punch him in the face again. “You know I don’t walk away from a fight.”
“Seriously, Drew, you’re not a kid on the South side anymore. You’re a grown-ass adult and semi-respected businessman. Show some character.”
“Semi-respected?”
Dan smirks. “Believe it or not, some people consider you too big a pain in the ass to deal with.”
“So put ‘em on my payroll. They’ll be smilin’ out their assholes in no time.”
“Look, I don’t know why you and Douglas felt the need to throw punches at each other Saturday night, but now he’s talking about either selling the R&D division off to another company or spinning it off into a separate corporation.”
Motherfucker. It’s known as the crown jewels defense and basically the perfect way to make his company less valuable and encourage me to walk away. The only reason I want JD Unlimited is because they have a highly-regarded research and development division. Without that, I’ll have nothing of value.
I throw my hands up. “What the fuck? How did this turn into such a shitshow?”
Dan shrugs. “If I were you, I’d walk away.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from cursing Dan to the moon and back. I taste blood. And, like any shark, I swim toward the chum, ready to attack whatever flounders in the water.
“No,” I say through gritted teeth. “Somewhere along the way, this turned personal. You know he actually said that he’d let the company go bankrupt before selling it to me?”
Dan shakes his head. “Drew, as your lawyer, it’s my job to advise you regarding the best course of action and-”
“I’m taking his company. One way or the other.”
Dan knows better than to argue with me once I make up my mind. And, it’s crystal clear that I’m going to own JD Unlimited and I don’t give a shit if it’s worth $1 or $100 million after I take it over.
Because now, my ego is involved and I’ve got too much pride to back down.
Anyone who fucks with me goes down. Plain and simple.
Chapter Seven
Ashley
“No pets and work too much to have one right now, anyway. But, I’ve always been partial to German Shepherds.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a businessman. Nothing too exciting.”
“I have a degree in business. Actually, I’m on my way to a job interview right now and I’m getting more and more nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous. Just be your amazing self and remember, they’d be lucky to have you. Let me know how it goes and good luck, Leigh!”
I tuck my phone into my purse with a smile then glance down at my watch and see I have ten minutes until the scheduled interview at Carson Industries. Andy and I have been chatting all morning. The more we message, the more I’m starting to like him. We seem to have a lot in common and I get the feeling that he’s a good guy.
And, honestly, that’s all I’m looking for. A man with a kind heart.
Of course, he is gorgeous, too, and that never hurts.