Roman The doors to the conference room closed behind me as I walked into the corridor without slowing down.
The meeting lasted two hours and seventeen minutes.
Seventeen fucking minutes longer than necessary.
I checked my watch.
11:43 a.m.
One day, I’ll make them pay for every single second of mine they wasted.
“Mr Sterling?” Brooklyn’s heels clicked behind me as she hurried to catch up.
“Here’s a thought.
Maybe slow down for my sake.
My strides are not as wide as yours.” I didn’t turn around.
“What is it?” “Rushing off after every meeting is not helping.
You hired me because you needed someone who could keep up with you, remember?” “Obviously, you can’t.” She gasped.
“That’s rude.” “And accurate,” I added.
She scoffed.
“And your female employees are crazy about you?
They must be retarded or on the wrong diet.” Normally, I would have smiled.
Brooklyn had worked for me long enough to know when to push and when to stop.
Today, apparently, she had decided to push.
Unfortunately for her, I didn’t have the patience for it.
When I stopped, she nearly walked into me.
I turned to her.
“Brooklyn, I just spent two hours listening to my board members tell me something I already know without as much as procuring a lasting solution.” I paused, then asked very carefully.
“Do not get on my last nerve?” That straightened her.
She shook her head first, then gave me a nod that suggested that she understood but was not the least happy to comply.
That was her problem.
We made the rest of the trip in silence.
“You have a twelve-thirty call with the Singapore office,” she started as soon as we entered my office, swiping up on her tablet.
“Two o’clock lunch with Harrison.
Although I—” “Cancel Harrison.” “I already did.” I glanced up.
She was smiling.
“Yes, you are welcome.” I shook my head, waving my finger for her to continue.
“At two-thirty, legal wants your signature on the Mercer acquisition documents.
Three-fifteen is the quarterly numbers review.
Four o’clock is the call with the Zurich office.” “Move Zurich to tomorrow.” “They’ll complain.” “Let them.” “They already complained last week.” “And your point is?” She sighed, making a note on her tablet.
“You’re the boss,” she muttered.
“Four-thirty, a call with the representatives of Lima Bank.” I looked up from my computer.
“Lima?” “Yes,” She paused.
“And finally, the video call you scheduled with Mr Maeda.” “Cancel that.” She raised an eyebrow, but nodded.
Lima Bank was already reaching out.
There was no need for Ren anymore.
Suddenly turning without an excuse, she walked out the door, only to return with a cup of coffee and a bulky file, which she placed in front of me.
“Coffee on an empty stomach is relatively bad, but you have never cared.
Besides, I think your body has gotten used to it by now.” She flipped open the file.
“Here.
I’ll grab you something to eat.” I didn’t argue.
She could do whatever she wanted.
She turned, but she didn’t leave.
I didn’t look up.
“What?” “The Annual Cross Event.” Without pausing, I said, “No.” “You haven’t even heard what I’m going to say.” “I know what you’re going to say.” “The event is in two days, and you’re attending.” “Absolutely not.” “That is not an option.” I finally raised my head.
“Excuse me?” She sighed, leaning against my desk.
“Your name has been added to the list for a month.” Staring at her, I leaned back.
“There’s a list?” “Yes, the Crosses added only a percentage of people to it.
They are trying to stage a miracle.” I raised an eyebrow.
“What miracle?” “Grant Industries and Cross Liquidities had a merger earlier this year, and there’s the effect of the merger on their public profile.” I knew that.
Was she reverting to the brain size of a peanut, or trying to demonstrate the incompetence of my board members?
“Now, they’re trying to turn the whole thing into a showcase.
If we step into it, there might be a clearing for us.” I glanced at the file, my eyes running over the sheet of paper in front of me.
“Here.
Lima Bank,” she said, tapping the paper.
“It is not just an event this year.
Something is not right.” I flipped the pages.
Brooklyn was right.
The bank was decent enough to warrant a good acquisition, so why make a show of it?
There had to be a hidden clause.
“What is their debt ratio?” She opened her mouth to reply, when suddenly, her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen, then at me.
“It’s Meridian.” I waved for her to take it.
She answered immediately.
“Brooklyn Vance speaking.” I continued scanning the figures in front of me, but her expression changed almost instantly.
“Yes, I understand.” She turned away slightly.
“No, that’s not what our agreement states.” I looked up.
Brooklyn was already reaching for the notepad on my desk.
“What is it?” I asked.
She covered the receiver.
“They’re asking to restructure the terms of our investment.” “No.” She uncovered the phone.
“We cannot do that.
The current terms stand.” There was a pause.
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Threatening to withdraw from the project won’t make us change our mind.” she harrumphed.
I leaned back.
They were threatening.
Interesting.
I asked for the notepad and wrote down one word.
Lawyers.
Brooklyn nodded, listened for another few seconds before slowly smiling.
“Alright then.
I’ll have our lawyers reach out to yours.” A pause, and her smile broadened.
“Sure.” She hung up.
“How do you know they were bluffing?” “They called you.” If they weren’t, they would have called my legal term.
Amateurs.
She chuckled.
“Remind me never to negotiate against you.” She tore the page of the notepad she had scribbled on and sent it to her pocket.
“Don’t worry.
I’ll handle it.” I knew she would.
Her capabilities were why she was still my assistant.
That, and her quick-mouthed responses.
And Riley thought no one else challenged me.
I still had Lima Bank to think about.
“Debt ratio, Brooklyn.” I reminded her.
“Debt ratio?
Oh, it’s negligible, if we are referring to Sterling Capital.
Their liquidity is better that we expected.” “Assets?” “Three major commercial properties, two investment divisions, and a private wealth portfolio that has been underperforming for the last eighteen months.” Now that was suspicious.