TRAVIS
I lean back in my chair at the consortium's offices in Midtown. I close my eyes and hold my scotch on the rocks to my temple in an attempt to dull the migraine that has been chasing me since morning.
I have spent the day running around and putting out fires. It's not different from any other day, but for some reason it's taking a greater toll on me than usual.
I take a sip of my smoky drink. It warms me from the inside out leaving a faint fruity aftertaste on my tongue.
I pull my phone out of my pocket. It's 8 o'clock in the evening, so I know Clark, my Head of Acquisitions, should be home from work.
"Evening boss," he says in a cheery voice.
"I should fire you."
"What happened now?" I hear the laugh in his voice.
"Why did you tell me to buy DeLisle?"
"Because it is a young company with a lot of potential, and if managed well will become very profitable for us."
"Why did you suggest I keep Paige DeLisle on the payroll?"
"Because she is the brain behind the entire operation. The company is her creative baby. There are so many advantages to having her on board. First of all, from a branding perspective, it looks good that the woman who started the company, the woman whose name is above the door still works there. Also, she is good at what she does and will ensure that the company stays on track creatively. It's a win-win."
"I don't think so. Not judging by the meeting I had with her this morning."
"Uh-oh, what happened?"
"She is some sort of fashion fanatic. She looked at me like I was a complete and utter idiot when I told her my plans for the company. She wants to keep things as they are. She looked like she wanted to murder me when I ordered her to execute my plans."
"Travis, you ordered her to follow your instructions?"
"Clark, don't start."
"I have to, because you have refused to listen every other time I have told you this. You can't just bark orders at your founders. The ones who are afraid of you will comply, but they will never truly respect you, and those who aren't will refuse just to spite you. You lose either way."
I wave my hand in the air. "I don't care about any of that. As long as my directives are followed."
"That's not going to work, especially not with Ms. DeLisle, considering my experience with her during the acquisition process."
"Which is what exactly?"
"Nothing, just that she is...strong willed."
"Well, if that's the case perhaps I should fire her."
"Whoa! That's a very very bad idea."
"Why?"
"We literally just hired her a week ago, we can't just fire her now. Optically, it doesn't look good. It will invite so much drama and we don't need that right now."
"So how do you suggest we handle this problem?"
"Maybe don't look at it as a problem. You should try to work with her. You know, see her as a partner, and not like a subordinate like you do with the rest of us."
"Ha ha, perhaps I should fire you," I say.
He laughs. "You will never fire me."
"Wanna bet?"
"Actually, that is a bet I would take. I am your oldest friend. We've known each other since we were babies. Your mother would drive up here all the way from Texas to smack you upside the head if she even knew you were even joking about firing me. So be careful, otherwise I just might tell her."
"You know, every day I curse the 22-year-old version of myself who thought it would be a good idea to ask you to come and work with me."
"Whatever. Too little too late. You're stuck with me now."
I smile. "Good night, Clark. I'll see you tomorrow."
Sitting in the muted lights of my office, staring at the Manhattan skyline, I replay Clark's words to me. He is right. It would be better to have Ms. DeLisle on the team. I need her cooperation, but I am not sure I'm going to get it.
I think back to the way her pretty green eyes flashed at me earlier today in that meeting. How she looked trying to restrain herself from lunging across the table at me.
The second I saw Paige DeLisle, it wasn't lost on me that she's exactly my type. She is a stunning woman. She is beautiful in the face with soft features; pillowy lips,a delicate nose and pink rosy cheeks that are quick to give away how she's feeling in the moment. Although most of her lower body was obstructed by the conference table, I could tell she was sexy as all hell in that white pantsuit. The cherry on top of everything? Her personality. I have always liked a woman with a little bit of fire burning in her belly, and Ms. DeLisle is the definition of a Spitfire.
Every time she has come into my mind unbidden throughout the day I have had to force myself not to focus on how attracted I am to her. However, now I don't have the mental fortitude to stop myself.
Ever since my divorce from Felicity two years ago, I have barely dated. It's not that I am hung up on her or anything, I just haven't met anyone that I found particularly captivating. I've had my fun here and there, but nothing has really stuck.
So it's a little bit of a surprise to me that this woman has been on my mind all day long, no matter how hard I have tried to keep her off it.
Whatever happens, I can never try to start anything with her. First of all, she hates me. So she'll probably kick me in the balls if I made any type of a move.
Then there's also the fact that she is essentially my employee. Although there isn't an official rule that I can't date my employees, it is frowned upon, and HR will be so far up my ass if anything were to happen.
Finally, I'm so much older than she is. I am 51 and she is 29. I know that because like I do with every CEO of every company that I acquire, I had my private investigator look into her.
She has Bachelor's and Master's degrees in Fashion Design and Business Management, respectively. She started deli slew hen she was 24 and took the business from a relatively unknown brand to the worldwide juggernaut it is today. She grew up in Long Island city where both her parents were dentists, but she lives on the Upper Eastside now. She has a brother, a sister, and a cat named Clip.
Yes, I am very aware of how creepy it is that I know all this about her, but I don't like surprises. I like to know what I'm getting myself into when it comes to business. I learned my lesson when I purchased Capstan from Joel Mason, who turned out not only to have a meth problem, but hid shady business dealings that tied me up in the courts for five years.
So yeah, never again.
Anyway, whatever happens, I am going to have to keep things 100% professional between Ms. DeLisle and me.
Fuck, it's going to be torture.
All of this is making me feel quite uneasy. I have a lot of nervous energy that I can't seem to shake off. Normally, I would hit up a friend and look for a way to blow off some steam, but I'm not in the mood for that tonight. Instead, I opt for something entirely different.
Growing up, although I hated it, my mother instilled a strong sense of community service in me. Although she fell in love with and married a billionaire, she never forgot her roots. She's from New York and came from poverty. So she always made it a point to give back. Not only did she donate money to charity, but gave her time as well. I have been volunteering at soup kitchens ever since I was old enough to hold a ladle.
I think that's what I need right now.
I head out of the office and make my way down toBread & Soup. I've been volunteering there ever since I moved to New York. Which is why I know they run their soup kitchen until midnight and are pretty busy right up untilthey close.
"Travis!" Jimmy, the Volunteer Coordinator, slaps me on the back when I walk up to him. At 6'5 he is 3 inches taller than I am, and quite burly. I'm always surprised that I don't topple over when he greets me. "Didn't expect to see you here tonight."
I shrug. "I had some free time, so I thought I might as well come down and help out a little."
"Well, you know we never turn down help. Grab an apron and head on into the kitchen. I think Byron and Kelly could use you."
I nod and do just as Jimmy has instructed.
I spend the rest of the night first helping Byron and Kelly cook the last batches of food, then I help serve the guests. When they close down, I hang back and help them clean up.
I am wiping down a counter in the kitchen when Kelly walks up to me. She is a middle-aged woman who lost her husband and son in a car accident five years ago. As far as I can tell, she is here most of her waking hours. I suspect it's to keep her mind busy and off her loss.
"A billionaire who is handy with a rag. Whoever you end up with will have won the lottery." She chuckles.
"I don't know about that..." I say and continue to wipe the counter.
"Trust me, most women would sell a leg for a husband who cleans."
"Well, my ex-wife wasn't so impressed."
She waves a hand in the air. "You weren't right for each other. When you find the woman who is just right for you, you'll understand."
I'm not so sure about that, because Kelly would probably clutch her pearls if she knew what I got up to in my free time. The soup-cooking version of myself that she knows sharply contradicts who I am in my real life. However, I don't tell her that.
By the time I get home I am beat, which was the plan. Without changing, I crash into bed. As soon as my head hits the pillow, images of Paige start playing in my mind. As I drift off to sleep I know I am in trouble.