Boss of Me

“I wanted to work with you guys.” My tone is level, done. “I hope we still need investors when you come to your senses.”

I reach forward ready to end the call, but Taron’s right there with the olive branch. “Hang on, look guys, we get it. You want a sure thing. I’ve got some leads out there now. How about we reconvene in a week or so?”

Stephen’s expression doesn’t change, but Remi breaks into a smile. “Sounds like a plan. Shoot me a message when you’re ready.”

“You got it. Talk soon.” Taron leans forward and hits the end call button. Then he exhales deeply.

I’m out of my chair, ready to go to the next name on our list. “Fuck them. Braden Investments messaged me last week ready to go.”

Taron’s palms are flat on the table, and he holds a beat. “Braden wants a bigger piece of the profits, more control of which markets roll out and when. You will hate that.”

He knows me pretty well. “So what are you saying?”

“Give me a week. I’m talking to Pro Partner and AmCham, both in Abu Dhabi and both interested. Raquel can help you with Madagascar, and I’ll focus on securing them. Then I’ll touch back with Remi.”

My fingers steeple in front of my lips, and I consider his suggestion. “One week, and we’ll give them one last chance.” I stand, ready to return to my office. I’m at the door when I pause. “So why did you hire her of all people?”

He knows what I’m talking about—his wry grin confirms it. “She’s good. We need her.”

“We don’t need anybody.”

“We need Hastings and Key, and we need Raquel Morgan. She graduated at the top of her class.”

“There wasn’t a man who spoke five languages?”

“Haven’t you heard of diversity?”

“An Arab man would’ve been perfect.”

“Right.” He exhales a laugh. “That would go over great with our Nashville clients. They’re still our biggest book of business, you know.”

“Remember when everybody spoke English?”

“And the sun never set on the British Empire? Yes, times have changed.”

Scrubbing my hands against my forehead, I start for the door. “This is a small office. We work in close quarters. Women cause problems.”

“What are you saying?”

“You should’ve hired a man.”

The door opens on its own, and my throat tightens. She’s standing in front of me, those gray-blue eyes fixed on me like some kind of witch.

She’s the problem. It’s not women, it’s her.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

I feel Taron’s face turn toward us, but I can’t look away. Her black jacket is gone, and her cream silk blouse is thin, almost transparent. I can see the faint outline of the lace cups of her bra against her olive skin, and my mouth goes dry.

Fuck, how long has it been since I’ve touched a woman? My fingers curl with wanting to touch her. What the hell?

Clearing my throat, I turn away. “What is it?”

“Sandra said you needed this translation before the end of the day.” She holds out the thin manila folder I gave to her earlier.

“Is it on the server?” My tone is sharp.

“Of course. I thought you’d want to know it’s ready now rather than having to find it later.”