Intense

This shouldn’t be as difficult as it is, but Robert can’t make it easy. We both stand to profit here, but he wants to make sure his bottom line is the best it can possibly be by pushing back against me. Maybe he thinks I’m weak and ripe for pillaging or some shit, but he’s in for a surprise.

The driver drops me out front and I head inside. Robert is at a booth toward the center of the restaurant, and I head over to him. He smiles and stands as I approach.

“Ethan,” he says. “Glad you came.” We shake hands and then sit back down.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say.

“Did you see the latest contracts?” he asks, diving right into business.

That’s not like him. He seems laser focused today for some reason. He’s normally much more interested in shooting the shit and drinking, but today he’s having only water and a simple sandwich for lunch.

I don’t let that get to me, though. We dive into the contracts and start negotiating clauses. He’s quibbling about the silliest, most worthless shit, and a half hour passes. I almost want to fucking yell at him to get over himself, but I know that’s not productive.

The meeting wears on until finally Richard leans back in his seat and orders a whisky from the waitress. I can tell that he’s done discussing and so am I. Richard is an arrogant bastard, but I want this deal to go through. It’d be damn good for both of us.

But I can’t keep doing this. “What are we doing here, Richard?” I ask him.

“What do you mean?”

“From the start of this, you don’t seem like you want this deal to happen. Do you really give a shit about lighting renovations?”

He watches me for a second, a small smile on his face. “No,” he admits, although just ten minutes earlier he was trying to get a clause in the contract that states we can’t change lighting fixtures for two years to “preserve his brand,” which is utter shit.

I sigh and lean back in my seat, at least happy to get some truth from him. “Okay then. Tell me what you want.”

The waitress comes back with his drink and he grins at me, taking a swig. He leans forward toward me, that grin still on his face. “I’ve been reading about you for years, Ethan,” he says.

I raise an eyebrow. “So?” I ask. “Business reporters love to make shit up.”

“Sure, sure. They really do. But to be completely honest with you, Ethan, it’s been pissing me off. A lot. For a long time.”

“You’re angry that the media is covering me?”

“No,” he says, laughing. “No, I’m angry that they’re covering you and not me. I used to be the young hotshot, you know. Everything they say about you, they used to say about me.”

“They still write about you all the time,” I say softly, beginning to get a bad feeling.

“Never good. Not anymore. They’re biased against me.”

“So, what? You have a grudge against the media and you’re taking it out on me?”

He shrugs. “More or less. I also don’t like you, Ethan. I think you’re an arrogant piece of shit with no talent and no experience. You come from nothing because you are nothing.”

I stare at him for a second then slide out of the booth. “We’re done here. You can keep your building. Good luck trying to pay for it.”

“Wait,” he says. “I have something you want to hear.”

“I think I’m done listening to your shit, Richard.”

I turn to leave.

“That was quite the performance she threw,” Richard says, and I pause. “Dresses all over the street? How much money did she throw out your window?”

I slowly turn back toward him, wrestling to keep my face straight. “What are you talking about?”

“Sit back down,” he says softly.

I hesitate. I hate to do what he tells me, but I know this could be very bad for me. I don’t know how much he has or how he even knows about Aria’s tantrum. I sit down slowly, prepared to listen.

If he has pictures, I’m fucked. I don’t know how I can explain that one away. It won’t ruin me, of course, but I can’t afford a scandal right now. Not when we’re in the middle of intense negotiations and a merger. They could still walk away, and all of this work, plus millions of dollars, would be wasted. My reputation probably wouldn’t recover.

I watch him, keeping a level head, trying to remain cool. I wasn’t about to panic or freak out, not now. I can’t show weakness to this man. He’ll pounce the moment I show even the slightest hesitation.

“What do you think you know?” I ask him, not breaking eye contact.