Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
“You’re a piece of fucking work. Even if the worst didn’t happen, what you did was a stark warning of how you do business. You’re reckless,” I grind out. “Reckless and self-serving.”
I hate that I can see her smile in my head, dark and red and carnivorous.
“A quality people find admirable in men,” she says pointedly.
“Nothing you do is admirable. Don’t act so wounded.”
“Tomato, to-mah-to. Enemy, partner. What’s in a word besides the meaning we give it?”
“I told you once, any relationship we’ll ever have is over. Respect it or don’t and see what happens. If you want hardball, I’ll have every major law firm in Washington on you like—”
“Except for the ones on my payroll, you mean,” she cuts in, adding a loud yawn. “Really, I’m not worried about facing you in court. You’re twice my size and still a big drama queen.”
My jaw clenches, so ready to show her some drama she can’t ignore.
“But it doesn’t matter. You’re a businessman above all else, Miles Cromwell. You know how absurd this is, even if you won’t admit it.”
“That you offered the moon for a property you don’t want just to get to me? Yeah, it’s fucking outlandish.”
She breathes a long sigh into the phone.
“We’re CEOs, whatever our history. We have companies to grow and people to look out for. If you won’t do it for yourself, will you do it for them? This is so sad. You’re letting bad blood come before honest business. No one operates at our level that way if they’re smart. You know that. We basically own the Pacific Northwest media space. We’re both titans. If we just put this drama behind us and extended a hand—”
“Titans don’t need a hand, Simone.”
“Well, I tried. But you can’t tell me being a player in bigger markets like LA has never crossed your mind...”
Fuck, I barely care about the Seattle market anymore. Why would I want to expand, inviting new headaches and double the bloodthirsty sharks just like her?
“To think you used to tell me your dreams,” she whispers.
I wince, holding my breath.
I fucking hate that she’s right.
There was a time when I would have jumped at the chance to take the world by its tail with the devil’s own daughter by my side, but it’s not just the prospect of business with this treacherous snake that’s stopping me now.
“You know I won’t give up easy, Miles. I still have my pride. So I’m offering you one last chance, and I won’t let you squander it—”
Let me? She’s not going to let me?
Who the fuck does she think she is?
“I don’t need your permission to do jack shit.”
“By working together, we can—”
“Never. Never. Get it through your fucking head now so we can avoid having this conversation a thousand more times.”
Icy silence.
“You pretend you’re a force of nature, Miles, but sooner or later, you’ll reap the whirlwind.”
“What?” I snort. “Is that a threat?”
“I don’t think you understand. If I want an alliance, we’ll have one, and you’ll change your mind sooner or later. The only sure thing about emotions is that they aren’t fixed. They’re shifting constantly,” she says matter-of-factly.
“You’re psychotic.”
“I prefer determined.”
“Is your company in trouble?” I press the phone to my ear. “Is that why you’re doing this?”
“Oh, please. Why would you even ask? I’m sure you have spies combing over my revenue reports. They’ve never been stronger.”
“Why are you so desperate to work with a man who hates your fucking guts then?”
“I’m not desperate,” she clips, the first time she’s sounded angry. “I just know my own worth, my dreams, and maybe I know yours better than you do. You can’t turn that down based on some accident a million years ago in business terms.”
I wish it was that long.
I wish a cosmic timescale would heal the scars she left behind.
“Simone, it’s not the history. I just know what a conniving, two-faced bitch queen of knives you are.”
I hang up.
There’s nothing gained in continuing this call, a circular firing squad that never reaches any understanding.
I look at the clock on my computer.
Shit.
It’s not even ten a.m.
I finally understand why everyone hates Mondays.
I pick up my office phone and dial Louise.
“Yes, Mr. Cromwell?”
“Start digging into Simone Niehaus’ company and all her recent ventures.”
She goes quiet. “I haven’t heard you use that name in a while—”
“And I thought I’d never have that pebble in my shoe again. I want to know how their business is trending and as much about their debts and assets as you can find out.” She’s been quiet for years. If she wants something now this bad, there must be a deeper reason for it.
Maybe if I can figure out what it is, and find her soft underbelly, I can be done with this madness once and for all.
“I’ll get started right away and send you what I find,” she promises.