The Contract (The Contract 1)

“What else?”

“Graham Gavin is a family man and he runs his business the same way. He only hires people of the same mindset. Your, ah, personal life isn’t what he’d consider acceptable.”

I waved my hand, knowing exactly to what he was referring. “I dumped Erica a few months ago.”

My ex-whatever, made headlines with her drug problem when she walked off the runway in a narcotic-induced high during a fashion show. I was tired of her high-maintenance attitude, anyway. I had Miss Elliott send flowers to rehab with a note saying we were done, and then I blocked her number. Last week, when she tried to see me, I had security escort her out of the building—or, rather, I had Miss Elliott take care of that task. She actually looked sorry for Erica when she went downstairs, returning a short time later to assure me Erica would not bother me again. Good riddance.

“It’s not only Erica, Richard. Your reputation is well known. You’re a playboy outside business hours and a tyrant during the day. You’ve earned your nickname. Neither sits well with Graham Gavin.”

“Consider me a changed man.”

Brian laughed. “Richard, you don’t get it. Graham’s company is family-oriented. My girlfriend, Amy, works there. I know how they operate. I’ve never seen a company like it.”

“Tell me.”

“His entire family is involved with the operation. His wife and children, even their spouses work there. They have picnics and dinners for their staff and their families. They pay well; they treat them well. Their clients love them. Getting hired there is difficult since it’s rare anyone leaves.”

I mulled over what he said. It wasn’t a secret how important family was at The Gavin Group, or how little turnover the company had in personnel. David hated Graham Gavin and everything he stood for in the business world. To him it was a dog-eat-dog world, and that was how he played. The bloodier, the better. We had lost two major accounts to Gavin recently, and David had been furious. Heads rolled that day—many of them. I was lucky they hadn’t been my accounts.

“So, I’m shit out of luck.”

He hesitated, glanced at me, then looked over my shoulder. “I do know one of their top executives is leaving.”

I leaned forward, interested at that piece of news. “Why?”

“His wife was ill. Her prognosis is good, but he’s decided to make a change for their family, and stay home.”

“It’s a temporary position?”

Brian shook his head. “This is the sort of man Graham Gavin is. He’s giving him early retirement with full pension and benefits. He told him once his wife recovers, he’ll send them on a cruise to celebrate.”

“How do you know this?”

“Amy is his assistant.”

“He needs replacing, then. Get me an interview.”

“Richard, have you not been listening to a word I said? Graham won’t hire someone like you.”

“He will if I can convince him I’m not what he thinks.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“Get me the interview and I’ll figure out that part.” I took a long sip of my scotch. “This has to be done under the radar, Brian.”

“I know. I’ll see what I can do, but I’m telling you—this will be hard to sell.”

“There’s a generous finder’s fee if you get me in.”

“Is it worth it to prove to David you’ll leave? You want the partnership that much?”

I ran my hand across my chin thoughtfully, scratching at the scuff. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“David hates Graham. Nothing would anger him more than losing me to him. I know a few of my clients would jump ship too, which would add insult to injury. I’m going to get Graham Gavin to hire me and when David tries to get me back, it’ll be my turn to say ‘things changed’ to him.”

“You’re rather confident.”

“I told you—that’s what makes it in this business.”

“I’m not sure how you plan to accomplish it, but I’ll see if I can get you in.” He pursed his lips. “I went to school with his son-in-law, and we still golf together. We’re supposed to get together for a round next week. I’ll feel him out about it.”

I nodded, my mind going a thousand miles an hour.

How did one convince a stranger they weren’t what they seemed?

That was the million-dollar question.

I only had to figure out the answer.RICHARD

THE NEXT MORNING, I HAD an idea, but I wasn’t sure how to execute it. If Graham Gavin wanted a family man, he’d get one. I only had to figure out how to accomplish that small detail. I could do it—it was my field of expertise, after all—I was an idea man.

My main problem was the sort of women I typically had in my life. Female versions of myself. Beautiful to look at, but cold, calculating, and not interested in anything except what I could give them: the fancy dinners, expensive gifts, and if they lasted long enough, a trip away somewhere before I dumped them. Because I always did. I only cared about what they could give me, as well. All I wanted was something pretty to look at and a warm body to bury myself in at the end of the evening. A few hours of mindless pleasure until the stark, cold reality of my life set back in.