I laughed. “Come on, Vick. Just dinner.”
“Honestly, Jett, maybe I would have.” I heard her sigh over the phone. “I thought we could be more, but you reminded me we couldn’t. And I’m set on finding something serious. I want a boyfriend and a husband and 2.5 kids with a white picket fence.”
Her declaration shut down my desire to banter with her. The metaphorical bucket of ice water splashed over my head and dick. “Right. I don’t want any of that at all.”
“Exactly,” she sighed. “We had a good time.”
“Good enough to maintain a cordial business relationship?”
She cleared her throat. “That would be ideal. Steven is”—she sighed into the phone in a dreamy way—“such a great guy. I don’t want him concerned that my relations with you were anything more than they were.”
I hummed. “You told him about us?”
“I’m not telling anyone about us,” Vick replied quickly. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Right. Cordial business relationship. Got it, babe.”
“Okay. So, hope you have a good night.”
“Sure. Sweet dreams, Victory.”
She hung up without replying.
That night, I couldn’t stop mulling over our conversation. I pictured her pacing as she spoke to me on the phone, her blonde hair swaying. The girl was animated as hell, and I was sure she lived her life the same way, with a level of vibrancy that was too loud to turn off.
The next morning, I had my team email Samson and Sons. I wanted a sit-down with them all. Vick thought I was coldhearted when it came to business but there was a reason Steven’s company was small and mine was big.
I had nothing to prove. However, that didn’t stop the idea from bouncing around in my head, impossible to ignore. I had stopped setting aside my own desires long ago. I found it rarely paid off.
One of my team members stopped in my office. “Jett, Mr. Samson agreed to meet with you next week. He wanted me to warn you that he doesn’t see himself negotiating any new terms though.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Okay. He say anything else?”
“He went on to explain that he’s thrilled with his company at this time.” He waved off the rest of the conversation. “He thinks he’s playing hardball. Just doing his peacock dance.”
I smiled. Jack always had an ear for the ones who were lying or exaggerating. He was one of the best on my team when it came to measuring how well a business would actually do under our name. “So, you think we need to fluff his feathers next week?”
“I think the guy’s excited to meet you.”
“Most people are.”
He rolled his eyes. “Man, get off your high horse. He says he doesn’t want to sell, but he’s bringing his legal team, which means he’s willing to negotiate. I don’t know if it's even worth the investment.”
“It probably isn’t.”
He narrowed his eyes a little. Then nodded. “I figured you knew that. Guess you have your own agenda. I’ll follow your lead.”
“That’s what I hired you to do.”
He left my office, waving at me over his shoulder.
I got to work and researched Samson and Sons a little more.
What was so priceless about his company and their assets that he wouldn’t hand over rights to me?
I knew of only one asset worth hanging onto, and I was starting to think I’d be willing to pay a hefty price to obtain it.
8