Sixteen
The journey from CFO to CEO wasn’t going as smoothly as he’d originally—and naively—believed. Turned out the transition was more complicated than swapping the nameplate on his desk.
Royce was still responsible for his CFO duties while adjusting to CEO. Luckily he’d had a round of interviews today for CFO, and had met with two very promising prospects. He looked forward to finalizing the decision and offloading some of his work.
He’d managed to grab dinner with Taylor one night this week, a far cry from how many nights he preferred spending with her. She was understanding, and had mentioned to him that “these things” took time before reassuring him his hectic schedule was temporary.
“It’ll work out. You’ll see,” she’d said.
Comforting words, but harder in practice than in theory.
He’d promised to leave the office by noon on Thursday to meet her for lunch—just like he’d promised on Friday. And today. His entire week had been derailed and here he was on a Saturday having missed yet another opportunity to see her.
He picked up his cell phone to text an apology when she appeared in the doorway of his office holding a brown sack with handles.
“Surprise!”
He took one look at the familiar black logo on the bag, one whiff of the enticing smells of garlic, robust tomato sauce and rich oregano, and his stomach roared.
“That smells incredible,” were his first words. “As do you.” Her wide smile suggested she didn’t mind that he’d complimented the food before her.
“I didn’t hear from you at noon.”
He checked his cell phone for the time. 1:47 p.m.? “I’m sorry. I was going to call. I had no idea how late it was.”
“I figured. I had to come into the office and check on a few things, anyway.” She glanced at the stacks of paper on his desk that had spilled from his inbox. “You know, you could ask for my help.”
He gestured to the eleven windows open on his computer screen. “And subject you to this? I like you too much.”
“Who else can you trust with the company’s biggest secrets?” She unloaded their lunch onto the low table in front of a pair of guest chairs. She offered a hunk of ciabatta bread and his mouth watered. Garlic was his favorite contemporary Italian restaurant in River Grove. The yeasty, warm bread was a gluten-free person’s worst nightmare. He opened the lid on a container. A huge square of lasagna covered in freshly grated Parmesan cheese caused his stomach to rumble again.
“You’re serious?” He dunked the bread into the sauce and took a bite. Heavenly.
“I am COO. I can handle some of the excess in the short term. Plus us working closely solves the problem of finding time to see each other. Sort of like date-working.” She handed him a plastic fork.
“Scandalous.”
“For two of the top brass at ThomKnox, it very well might be.” She smiled.
He kissed the corner of that smile. They ate, discussing strategy and how some of his workload could be pieced and parceled out. By the time she stuffed their empty food containers into the bag—he’d helped finish her eggplant parmesan, which he begrudgingly admitted was better than anticipated—he was alive with the excitement of having a plan.
“How’s Bran doing?” she asked out of nowhere.
He ignored the rogue spike of jealousy. Royce knew Taylor wanted to be with him, not his brother—her reaction on Valentine’s Day had solidified that—so him feeling possessive over her made no sense.
“Bran’s busy ignoring me.”
“I don’t know why he’s mad at you. Your father picked you to be CEO. It’s not as if you lobbied for it.”
He tucked her dark blond hair behind her ear. “It’s more about my not telling Bran when I knew. I should’ve.”
“You didn’t know Jack was going to announce it at the party.” But her tone held a question she spoke when she said, “Did you?”
“I didn’t know. But I could’ve guessed.” His father liked the spotlight and he’d much rather go out with a bang than a fizzle.
“You’re sure about taking on some of the workload while I’m finding an assistant?” He tipped her chin.
“I’m sure.”