“I’m here to do business. This is now my office, and I would like it if you would grab whoever is necessary to send me up the financials.”
“This is still my company!” Arthur slammed his fist onto the desk.
“Leave us,” Noah said, waiting for everyone to leave the office so it was just the two of them.
“You think you can come—”
“With all due respect, Arthur, I could have you thrown out. I paid your last debts when you signed on the dotted line. This company is mine. I should have my name on the door to remind you of that. Your company is nothing like it used to be. It’s a sad, washed up old machine, and people are trying to flee it. I’m going to try to stop that from happening, but first, you need to cut the shit.”
“You are not the kind of person I like to do business with.”
“Most people don’t. They hate how I came from nothing, worked my way up into something, and now they’ve got to take orders from someone like me.” He shrugged. “I don’t have the proper etiquette. I don’t give a shit about thousands of dollars’ worth of champagne or caviar. I like a steak, burgers, and beer. I save money. I don’t flaunt it, even if I do like to have certain trinkets that I keep for myself. You don’t like me, that is fine. Out of all the other companies, not one was willing to listen to your reasoning for why this place should be given a second chance. I was. I want to see your financials and everything relating back to the last decade when it started to show its decline. Out of respect for you, Arthur Sanderson, I’m willing to wait and listen and to make this company great again. What I won’t do is listen to insults. You don’t like me, fine. I don’t like you either. In business you learn to realize there are a lot of people you won’t like. Don’t hang out with them, simple as. Now, are you willing to work with me, or should I send my men in to disband and break up this entire company?”
Noah waited. He’d dealt with difficult cookies like Arthur before, and they usually crumbled, especially when the alternative was shown to them. He had no interest in giving this guy a heart attack, just for him to see that he wasn’t the enemy.
“Just, give her a chance, please. I know she’s … not doing well. She’s all I’ve got.”
“Noted.”
Arthur moved out of his chair and held a hand out to him.
Noah took a seat on the opposite side. “We’ll work together, yes?” He happened to have a great deal of respect for Arthur.
The old man nodded and took a seat.
“Teresa, have Ms. Banks come up with the financials.” He released the intercom as soon as his secretary confirmed what she was doing.
They sat in silence for an age.
Noah waited, and as the door opened, he didn’t turn around.
“I have the most recent accounts, Mr. Sanderson. This was the earlier five years. The most recent five went to computers.”
Noah tensed up at the voice. Slowly, he looked over his shoulder, and it turned out Ms. Banks was, in fact, Skye.
He’d not seen or heard from her in years.
The last time he’d seen her, she’d been in the hospital bed, broken arm, shattered soul, memories assailed him at seeing her. Her screams echoed through his mind.
She smiled at Arthur—and froze the moment her gaze caught him.
It had been fifteen years, fifteen long years since he last saw her.
Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she looked beautiful. She wore glasses, but they didn’t hide the prettiness of her eyes. Being locked together in a cell, he’d found himself staring into her eyes so often that he felt himself falling once again. Within a moment, years seemed to melt away, and all that remained was the two of them.
“This is Noah King, Skye. He’s going to be here for a couple of weeks looking over the books. Noah, this is Skye Banks. She’s a genius in waiting.”
Her cheeks went bright red. “I’m not that much of a genius, Sir.”
“You are.”
“If I was, you wouldn’t be having to go through your financials and I’d have been able to pull you out of … well, this.” She placed the files on the desk.
Skye went to leave, but he couldn’t let her go, not yet. He caught her wrist, stopping her from leaving.
The action seemed so natural, like he couldn’t handle for her to go. Arthur couldn’t see what he’d done, and Skye looked down at him, begging for him to let her go.
He didn’t want to.