If she was acting like a CEO, then she should be the CEO.
Zane arrived after Lexa took a few minutes to flat-iron her hair in the women’s lounge.
And her day was off to the races.
“Do you have the tear sheets from the Forbes article?” Zane walked toward her while scanning his iPad.
“On your desk.”
Zane Breas was the latest entrepreneurial wunderkind, and he liked to collect his media clippings.
Once he opened the Forty-Sixth Street store, the business exploded. Now, scrambling to meet the demands of franchisees and cities wanting a ZB Burgers, Lexa had ideas on how to get ZB to the next level.
Which led her back to asking—telling—Zane to make her the CEO.
“How was your weekend?” Zane perched on the side of her desk and handed her his iPad, calendar in view. “I don’t see Thursday afternoons blocked off.”
Lexa glanced at the screen, then handed back the device. “I did. Last week. You want it blocked off every week?”
“Until further notice, yes.” He took a piece of candy from the dish on her desk. “So, good weekend? I don’t know how you live in that eight-hundred-square-foot walk-up.”
She launched Zane’s calendar. “I worked on Saturday. The Zaney Days commercial scripts were all wrong. We’re not hiring that marketing group again. Then I slept most of Sunday.” Speaking of working on Saturday, the CEO job would be—“What’s going on Thursday afternoons? Don’t tell me you’re taking up golf again.”
He had tried to golf with a couple of pros last year. Ended up hitting a ball into the course’s parking lot and smashing the window of a Lamborghini.
“No. But one of these days, I’m going to master the green.” He started for his office and Lexa followed. “Any news on the food cart? I’d love to hit the streets of Manhattan with a portable ZB Burgers stand, see if we can make an alternative style of restaurant for people in big cities.”
“One giant to slay at a time, Zane. I moved that project to next year.”
He raised a steely gaze to her as he moved behind his desk. “You should ask me before you move things. I am the head of this company.”
“And I’m the neck.” Her determination locked with his. Steady. Don’t break. She exhaled when he flashed his charmed grin.
“My neck is a little stiff right now.” He kicked out his chair and sat, flopping the Post open over his laptop and yesterday’s coffee cup. Lexa reached for the cup and set it on the corner to take back to the employee kitchen. “I trust you, but let’s be sure to address it in January. That cart vendor offered us an amazing deal.”
“Did you read the contract? The small print on his maintenance offer was ridiculous.” She read every vendor and supplier contract multiple times, on alert for twisted wording and provisional clauses. “By the way, I’ve made Quent my assistant.”
The Harvard MBA grad was a Zane hire. He reasoned the Boston blue blood gave the Nebraska boy some clout, if not a bit of swagger. But so far, he had proved to be as ordinary as they come, if not a bit lazy and entitled.
“Quent? The man with a Harvard degree in marketing and business strategy?”
“Don’t be wowed, Zane. Apparently Harvard needs to add a class on how to show up on time and do the work you’ve been assigned. I’ve asked him four times for an update on his Zaney Days projects. So far, crickets.”
“He’s young.”
“You were launching a business at his age. No excuses. Anyway, he’s my assistant until he grows a better work ethic.”
Zane regarded her for a moment, chin raised, quizzing her with his eyes. She braced for a fight.
“Fine, but have him see me when he gets in.”
“I’m doing what’s best for the company, Zane.”
“It just feels like you’re cutting me out, Lex.”
“I’m doing the CEO job, and I think you should hire—”
“I know, I know. Hire someone for the job. You’re right. I need to fill the position. I’m just nervous to rock the balance of our little family company.”
“Yes, you do need to hire someone.” Lexa pulled a chair forward to sit. “As a matter of fact, I was thinking—”
Zane’s cell rang and he answered it with vigor. “Tim, yes, hello.” He pressed the phone to his chest. “Lex, can you give me a minute?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Back at her desk, her inner voice mocked her. Coward.
What was she supposed to do? Blurt out her request? He always said no when asked a question he wasn’t prepared to answer.
The timing had to be right. Perfect.
She’d just started her to-do list when Zane appeared again. Grinning. Like a lovesick teen.
“Yes?” Lexa said.
Zane offered his phone. “Sabrina just texted.”
Ah, his new love. A Hollywood starlet he met at a charity benefit in London.
“By the size of your Nebraska smile, I take it she said yes to the Gottlieb Gala?”
The Gottlieb Gala for Young Entrepreneurs had named Zane their Young Entrepreneur of the Year and were honoring him next Friday night at a fancy soiree atop the Waldorf Astoria, in the enchanting Starlight Room.
“She’s catching the red-eye next Thursday. Can you order flowers for her room?”
“Done. I figured if she didn’t come I’d take the room myself for a luxurious weekend of bubble baths and champagne.”
“Why don’t you move?” Zane huffed and puffed, but he could not change her mind. “A girl needs a bathtub.”
“Not if it costs another two hundred a month. Or more.”
“Are you hinting for a raise?” Zane pushed up from the desk and started for his office.
“As a matter of fact, Zane, I would like to talk to you about—”
“Oh, what about my speech? For the gala?” He turned back toward her. “Did you get my notes on your draft?”
“I sent the updated version three days ago. Do you ever read your email?”
“That’s what you’re for.” He laughed without conviction as he aimed for his office again. “I’ll go find it.”
“You do that.”
She had refused to write his speeches at first, but he worked her soft side, her team-player heart, and she caved. She should’ve never told him she’d aced a speech-writing class at Florida State.
Lexa had a love-hate relationship with her “soft side.” It was the one she used to make friends every time the family moved. The one that got her into the in-crowd in high school. Yet it was the side that opened her up to wounding and hurt.
“Oh, one more thing? What about the mini ZB Burgers for the gala?”
“Really, Zane, read my emails if you don’t read anyone else’s. The Forty-Sixth Street store is making them. You know if they’re a success we’re going to have to add them to the menu.”
“That’s the idea. See you at ten o’clock.” And he disappeared into his office.
With a sigh, Lexa stared at her computer screen. She should just ask him. Right now. Go into his office and ask.
“Will you make me your CEO?”
She’d been noodling on this plan for almost a year. Without an execution plan, it gnawed at her. Rooted deep and kept her awake at night.