Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“You want the truth? Here it is. My grandpa was a hard man to work for and he might have driven me crazy at times, but he also gave me a chance to prove myself. He expected a lot from me, but he pushed me and believed in me in a way my parents never really had. My parents just expected me to take a fancy title in a prestigious Fortune 500 company and bring in cash without killing myself in the process. As a matter of fact, I can do that right now. Simply stay on as CEO at the company and earn a whopping salary and do little to earn it.
She stares at me unblinking.
“But my grandpa knew I would never take that option. I’m doing this because despite what you might think, I care about this company. It was his whole life and ever since I joined it, it has become mine too. I refuse to sit back and watch his life’s work go down the shitter because the board is too short-sighted to see that things need to change if we are to keep the company viable in today’s market. Is that honest enough for you?”
“Yes,” Ashley agrees simply.
I am angry suddenly. Not at her, but at myself for revealing so much. I don’t know how Ashley got me to do it. I would never have admitted any of this, even to the people I’ve known all of my life, and yet here I am, pouring out my truth to a complete stranger. One I’m not sure I like. “Now it’s my turn to ask you something. Why are you so against this idea? I did look into you, and I know your charity is barely staying afloat. The donations you receive barely cover the admin costs and you’re not able to help even a quarter of the amount of people you’d like to. So what is stopping you from accepting my offer? And please don’t say it’s just your own stubborn pride. That would be too… too sad.”
“You don’t know me. Don’t you fucking dare stand there all high and mighty making assumption about why I do, or don’t do something!” She snaps.
“I’m not. I asked you for your reasons,” I point out.
“Same thing,” she begins, then stops, then starts again. “You know what? This isn’t worth it.” She moves towards the door.
“You thought it was worth coming all of this way,” I say to her back.
She stops moving, but she doesn’t turn around.
I take a deep breath. I can’t believe I’ve fucked it up again. What is it about this girl that makes me say all the wrong things every fucking time? “Look, you’re here now, why not stay and talk about it? I’ll fix you a drink and we can discuss it like two adults. Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgement. Think of it logically, like you would think of any business deal.” I move towards the mini bar, purposely turning my back on Ashley and not looking at her. She can make her own choice now. She can stay, or she can leave. I want her to stay. I really think I can persuade her to see the logic in this, but I’m not about to beg.
Not yet.
I told her the truth earlier – I don’t want to see the company being run into the ground by a load of stuffy old assholes. But I rather not have to beg her for this. Maybe if she’d been a different kind of woman. Anyway, why should I? She will be getting as much out of the arrangement as I will be.
I have no idea what Ashley likes, or whether she even drinks alcohol. For some weird reason I think she might be a Bacardi and Coke girl. I reach for the bottle. She can take it or leave it… if she’s still here when I turn back around. My ears are on high alert for the sound of the door opening, which hasn’t happened yet, but that doesn’t mean she won’t bolt at any second.
I make the drinks and turn around.
Ashley has turned back to face me. She holds my gaze in a bold challenge.
I can outstare an owl. I keep her gaze as I approach her and she drops hers after a couple of minutes. She moves towards a couch and sits down. I feel a great relief sweep over me. There’s a long way to go here, but the fact she’s sticking around means she’s at least willing to consider doing this. I hand her one of the glasses.
She takes it, smiling her thanks. “What is it?”
“Bacardi and Coke.”
She frowns. “Your report was that detailed?”
“No, I just guessed. You look like a Bacardi and Coke girl.”
She studies me suspiciously. Obviously, she doesn’t believe me.