Chapter 8
JORDAN
I scowl at my phone as I dial the number on the screen for the umpteenth time since I got back to the State. I know it’s futile but a part of me is hoping for a miracle.
I miss my best friend and I’d do anything to see him again. I’ve contacted a private Investigator and he’s combing the whole city for Peter Volkov. Has he refocated to another city? He’s never for once mentioned leaving New York. Business expansions and vacations, yes, but packing up to another country has never been in his books.
My mind flickers to the last time I saw him. He had accompanied me to the airport. Bade farewell amid hugs and playful punches to my arms.
A black minivan pulls into the spot beside my car. I pay little attention to it as I dial the number again. It is fast becoming an unconscious action. My head snaps up as I catch sight of a familiar figure. 0
“Is that the Mayor?”
My driver nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Lucas Lonel. I remember him from my college days and early last year. I saw his campaign flier on social media. I quickly tuck my phone into my suit pocket and grab the car door handle. Before I can push it open, a car pulls up and he steps into it.
“Damn!”
“Do you want me to go after him, Sir?”
“No. Nelson will be here soon. I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
Nelson is my COO from Italy. Well, the term does no justice to the tasks he perfòrms in my company. After going through the files all the department submitted last week, I have an idea of where to start. But first, I need Nelson to go through a few things before proceeding.
My phone beeps with a text. Nelson.
I’m here. Table 10.
I heave a deep sigh then push open the car and step out of it. It’s almost sunset so the day is a bit calmer and no longer scorching hot.
I hurry off in the direction of the double doors of the restaurant. I scan the room until my gaze lands on a blonde–haired man with a black tuxedo. He beams the second our eyes meet and stands up.
“Good afternoon, Sir.”
I accept his hand and shake it gently. At 28, Nelson is doing quite well for himself. Married to a supermodel.
“I’m sorry about dragging you all the way here. I’ve not seen anyone I can trust yet and I don’t have the luxury to start hunting. Did you go through the documents I sent to you?”
“Yes. I marked off some points and emailed it back to you before I boarded.”
“What do you think? Is it something we can pull off in a couple of months, say five?”
His brows knot wrinkle, and then he tilts his head at me. “You said you want to build more toys for kids. Are you hiring a new team for the project?”
I consider his question for a second. I’ve seen the production team and they are fit for the plans I’ve laid out. I had a brief meeting with the team lead yesterday and he apologized for the setbacks and then promised to ensure all hands are on the desk.
“No, they will do just fine.”
1/3
20:30 Sat, 31 May
Chapter 8
A throat clears behind me. I swerve my neck. It’s the waitress. “Hello.”
“I was wondering if you are ready to order.”
“Yes.” I glance at Nelson. “What are you in the mood for, Nelson?”
He shrugs. “A bottle of their finest wine. We need to make a toast to this journey we’re about to embark on.”
(+38)
laugh. He’s right. Meeting with the board opened my eyes to many things- I’m alone in this and I have to be careful with the people I chose to be in my corner. How could they have been so callous? They had the nerve to sit there and spurt shit about my company? What happened to keeping hope alive and working towards achieving it all again?
The waitress clicks her pen repeatedly. I shift my attention back to her. “A bottle of champagne,” I ask Nelson if he’s hungry.
“I’m starving.” He goes ahead to place an order for the day’s special.
As the young woman walks back to the front of the room, Nelson’s eyes meet mine and he flashes me a warm smile.
“This place is everything I’ve heard about it. The noise, the throngs of people, the traffic, damn. It must be tough being a New Yorker.”
“You’ll get used to it. Are you sure your wife is okay with you staying here for a few months?”
“I hope so. It’s a lot though and I doubt I’ll be able to keep up. Laura will be coming over in a few weeks. She’s trying to finish up a few things.”
For a moment we both sit in silence. The chatters around us drown on and Nelson pours himself another glass. He studies me briefly then cocks his head.
“I’ve been wondering. Um, this is strictly off work. Have you maybe been with another woman after you lost your wife? I don’t recall ever seeing you in the company of one.”
I rub my eyes. “I’ve been on a few dates, Nelson. You know that.”
“I know about those dates and I also know that those women never spent à night in your bed. You treated them like it was work.”
“Were you one of them? Because I don’t seem to understand how you manage to know that much.”
Nelson laughs. “Women talk and I can’t help the things I hear most of the time.”
I shrug. “I’m good.”
“You are? It’s been years. Don’t you miss the warmth of a woman?”
I blink the image of the blonde I met on Saturday off my mind. I didn’t realize how much I missed being with a woman until I was wrapped up in her sensuous body. I raise my gaze to meet Nelson’s and offer him a stiff smile then pick up my wine glass and take a sip. I don’t want to talk about a one- night stand that has taken up a huge part of my thought.
I can still hear her moans of pleasure and the way her body moved against mine stuck with me. I take another sip, this one longer than the first.
“Where would you like to be after here?” I ask, deliberately changing the topic.
He does not comment on my move. “My hotel room. I want to take a warm shower and read up on the plan again. I want to be a hundred percent sure we’re on the right track.”
“You’re staying in one of my first rooms. It’s a big house and having you around will do me some good.”
He pauses. “Are you sure you don’t want to consider dating again? And by dating, I’m talking about being romantically with a woman, not just putting on
a show.”
“My focus is on getting my company back on track. Romance isn’t going to help me in any way.”
2/3
Chapter 8
He hisses in a breath and slowly releases it. “Okay.”
We veer into other topics. I ask him about his family and the few friends I made over the years. I’ve always wanted to come back here right from the moment I left. I missed Peter and the memories I made with my friends and wife. But something always held me back. Maybe they didn’t have such a tight hold on me but they were enough to save as excuses. I kept postponing my flight and finding more reasons to not come home.
There was nothing to come back to. My best friend, yes, but he has his family and I’d be selfish to expect him to spend most of his time with me. Work was going on well and there was nothing here for me to do then to keep my mind busy.
Unlike now, I have a truckload of things to do. As Nelson digs into his pan–seared sea bass with lemon beurre blanc, I go over the list I’ve made for the task ahead, making notes with my brows knotting in concentration. I’m psyched about getting my company back on at the top and I’ll leave no stone
unturned.
“Don’t tell me you’re editing the list again?” Nelson quips. He’s wiping his mouth with a napkin. I glance at the plate, it’s cleared.
“You were starving huh?”
His eyes glint. “It was a good meal. Now answer my question, are you editing the list again, Mr. Remington?”
I move the IPad to the side with my elbow then pick up the glass of champagne.
“You know the answer to the question, Nelson. I want everything to be perfect. This company means so much to me than the others. It’s where I started, with my late wife.”
He nods. “Everything will be fine. Don’t stress it too hard, alright? We’ll fix this.”
A grin claims my lip. It stems from the hope I hear in the younger man’s voice. Maybe, if the board had such hope in me and rebuilding the company, I would have relaxed a lot more than this. But it’s hard when the people who are supposed to be on my side are spewing such negativity. And then there’s the mind–blowing memory of a one–night stand that is threatening to throw me off balance.
Everything will be fine. I hope the thin thread I’m hanging heavily on doesn’t cut loose and toss me off the grid.
3/3
