Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
He scratches his neatly trimmed beard, looking off into the distance like he’s thinking, so I stay quiet, figuring he’s not done yet. And sure enough, he continues a moment later.
“Did you know that Rhonda in advertising quit after she had a baby? She wanted to be home with her baby and HR told her if she couldn’t meet the forty-hour requirement, she would be let go. I want someone like Rhonda to feel like this company is her family.”
I stare at Samuel, wondering if I’m being punked, but from his expression, I know he’s serious.
“My daughter practically grew up in that office building, yet I barely know her,” he says softly, his voice filled with unshed emotion. “I destroyed my family for this company, and I won’t allow it to destroy anyone else. I need someone who can be not only the face of the company, but also back it up with their actions.”
Jesus fucking Christ. Who is this guy, and what did he do with the man whose mantra used to be, If you’re not in the office before the sun rises and you leave before it sets, you’re not working hard enough?
He goes on, “I want company get-togethers, new maternity and paternity policies, and I’m not sure you’re the right person to do that.”
“Not the right person?” I choke out. As his COO, I’m already pretty much running the company, especially since he hasn’t been around in months. “If you want these changes, I can implement them.”
He sighs and shakes his head. “I know you’re capable of running the company I’ve built from the ground up, but you’re almost forty”—thirty-eight, but that’s beside the point—“and you have no desire to start a family of your own. You work as many, if not more, hours than I ever did, and I get it, Julian. You’ve busted your ass to get to where you are, and I’m not trying to punish you for it.
“But not only does appointing a single man who has never settled down in his life look bad, but my fear is that someone like you taking over would mean the company would continue to run in the same manner. And worse”—he locks eyes with me—“I’m fearful that you becoming the CEO would mean history repeating itself, and the last thing I want is for you to miss out on love because of business.
“Now,” he continues, “that’s not to say you’re not in the running. I won’t be announcing the new CEO until the end of the year, so anything can happen. But I just wanted you to know where I stand. I’m hoping to hire from within, so I’ll be making my short list and watching everything going on at work for the next several months before I make my decision.” He pats me on my shoulder and grins. “All right, enough shoptalk. Let’s go hit a few balls.”
He hops out of the golf cart and grabs his bag like he didn’t just light the match that blew up my entire world.
“So, let me get this straight,” my best friend, Ryder, says. “He’s not requiring the CEO to be married, but he’s looking for a family man.”
“Or woman.”
“Or woman,” he parrots. “I don’t know. It sounds to me like now that he’s married and all happy and in love, he wants the person who’s going to take his position to have the same outlook on life.”
“Exactly,” I agree, throwing back my glass of scotch. “And how the fuck am I supposed to compete with that when I’m not even in a relationship?”
“You could meet someone.”
“Yeah, because that’s the perfect way to start a relationship.”
“Well, you could always hire a wife.” He grins and sips his drink.
“Hire an escort?” I hiss. “That’s illegal, and I’m not about to risk jail time to be CEO. Besides, my luck, that shit would come out at the wrong time and explode in my face.”
“Or you could contact one of those trophy-wife agencies. It’s completely legal. Like Match for the wealthy.”
“That’s actually a thing?”
“Of course it is.”
He pulls out his phone—no doubt to text his fiancée, who I’m sure knows exactly how to find a wealthy man. Nora Arnold comes from money, but not the kind Ryder has. It’s enough to run in the same circles—hence how they met—but not enough for her to be rich in her own right.
Unlike my best friend, she doesn’t have a trust fund worth millions of dollars, which means, in order for her to live the lifestyle she believes is owed to her, she’ll have to marry a wealthy man.
Women like Nora were born and bred to marry rich. She went to college, majoring in some bullshit degree because that’s what’s expected, but she’s never worked a day in her life, aside from “helping out” at her father’s company, which stopped the second she convinced Ryder to let her move in with him.