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An hour later, he nails the video presentation, answering the prospective client’s questions succinctly and patiently, while Nia and I fist-bump in the background, almost certain Evan snagged the account—or at least he’ll be invited to London for a face-to-face that will seal the deal.

But at the end of it all, Wynam’s folks merely thank us for our time and advise us they have other possible vendors they intend to talk to. They’ll be in touch.

They mean Reservoir.

Evan turns to me as soon as the call is over. “Work faster, buddy.”

To get the competition out of the way. “On it.”

“You’d be my hero if Wynam didn’t even hear Reservoir’s pitch.”

“They won’t. I’ll make sure of it.” Which means I need to get back to my mission.

He claps me on the shoulder, then takes his wife’s hand as they head out the door. “Thanks. And don’t worry about anything Stratus-related tomorrow. I’m better now, so I’ve got this place. Focus on the assignment I gave you.”

After going home, stumbling into bed, and sleeping nearly twelve hours, I tear into the office, order in food, then dig through the statement Sloan sent. Overall, the financial health of the company isn’t bad…but it’s not great. They’re seeing good growth on the consumer side, which has been their lifeblood since inception. Their small-business customer base is building slowly, but I can’t argue that it’s making strides. Yet the company is strangely cash poor. It doesn’t make sense. Granted, I don’t have the detail I’d like, but it’s glaringly clear that whoever compiled this report is skirting the truth, because two and two aren’t adding up.

My conclusion: something’s rotten at Reservoir.

Does Sloan know?

She shouldn’t be my first concern. Instead, I should be figuring out how to use this information to my advantage. But I can’t deny that some stupid-ass part of me hates that people around her are potentially screwing her by fucking with the whole organization.

When I reach that likely conclusion, it’s nearly five p.m. here in Maui. Normally, I wouldn’t think there’s any chance my counterpart five time zones to the east would answer her phone, especially on a Friday night. But Sloan is different. I don’t know her well, but I’m convinced she’ll either have some idea why this report is twenty kinds of fucked-up or she’ll dig straight in and figure it out. I’ll bend her for information. And if I catch her off guard, maybe she’ll spill details I can exploit.

Squashing my misplaced guilt, I swipe my phone from my desk and ring her. It’s ten o’clock there, but I’m not really shocked when she answers. “McBride?”

Though the question is sharp, her voice sounds a little slower, almost mellow. She’s relaxed. Because she’s curled up on her couch with a movie? Or because she’s curled up in bed with a man?

“Sorry to disturb you on a Friday night.”

“But you’re still working?”

“I am.”

The sound she makes isn’t quite a laugh. “I get it. I only quit an hour ago.”

That doesn’t surprise me. “Have you looked at this annual report?”

“That’s on my list to-do this weekend. Did you find something I need to be aware of?”

“Do you want to know now or should I call back later?”

With a sigh, she shifts. I hear a clink, followed by movement. “I wasn’t getting into this TV show anyway. Tell me now.”

“You sure I’m not interrupting something?”

“Unless you mean a quiet night with the squawk-box, I’m positive.”

It’s stupid and perverse, but I’m pleased she’s alone. “All right. The income side of your statement has improved year over year, particularly the last two.”

Is it a coincidence that the upward trend started when Smith promoted her out of the basement and started listening?

“I’m really proud of that. Marketing has found creative ways to increase consumer market penetration with low-cost campaigns, while the Tech folks have really driven down data storage costs.”

“Totally agree. But your expenses, especially last year, have skyrocketed. Fourth quarter was a bloodbath.” Every single department suddenly opened a project that’s guzzling cash—and there are no supporting details in the report. “What’s Marketing’s PPP Fund financing?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard of it.”


Tags: Shayla Black Billionaire Romance