I was fucked, both literally and figuratively.
If Isabella had dominated my thoughts before we had sex, she’d utterly consumed them after. It’d been a week since I took her to the Barber, and not a minute had passed without the memory of her taste haunting me.
I rubbed a hand over my mouth and tried to focus on my mother’s closing speech. It was the last day of the company’s annual leadership retreat, which took place in our Manhattan office this year. High-level executives had flown in from all over the world for four days of seminars, workshops, and networking, all of which I’d breezed through.
I may have been distracted, but I could still outsell, outsmart, and outperform every other member of the Young Corporation with my eyes closed.
My phone buzzed with a new text.
“…lean into your individual strengths as leaders to build an even bigger, better company that reflects the direction of the market…” My mother’s voice faded in and out as I checked my messages.
Isabella: are you alone right now?
A small smile curved my lips.
Me: No. I’m at the company retreat.
I hadn’t seen her since the retreat started, but we texted every day. Our conversations consisted mostly of memes and funny videos (sent by her), interesting articles and food recommendations (sent by me), and flirtatious subtext (sent by both of us). Normally, I wasn’t a huge fan of long text conversations because they inevitably lost their point, if there was one in the first place, but I looked forward to her messages with embarrassing anticipation.
Isabella: perfect. then i have a picture for you;)
A photo popped up on-screen. I instinctively swiped my phone off the table, but to my relief and disappointment, it wasn’t anything scandalous.
Isabella lounged on the couch in the library’s secret room, her cheeks dimpled with a mischievous grin and her hair fanning around her in a spray of amethyst-tinted silk. Her free hand clutched a bottle of Mexican Coke.
Isabella: behold, a future bestselling author working hard
My smile ticked up another inch.
Me: I see that. Your hands must be tired from typing on your invisible keyboard.
Isabella: first of all, brainstorming is working too, judgy mcjudge
Isabella: second of all, i’ve come up with an incredibly detailed sex scene that i was going to tell you about
Isabella: but since you’re being so rude, i’ll keep it to myself
Heat raced to my groin, but I marshaled my emotions into a neutral expression.
Me: Perhaps you should spend an equal amount of time on proper punctuation and capitalization. I’ve heard they’re necessary skills for writers…
Isabella: …
Isabella: how dare you
Isabella: im texting you not writing a college thesis
Isabella: and yes i removed all the punctuation on purpose
Isabella: i hope it triggers you 🙂
A laugh rustled my throat, the soft noise unnaturally loud in the silence.
The meeting. Fuck.
I looked up to find the rest of the room staring at me. My mother wore a disapproving frown, which meant I would get an earful later.
“Is there something you’d like to share?” Tobias drawled from his kiss-ass seat next to her. “An exciting new deal, perhaps? Things finally work out with DigiStream?”
On his other side, Richard Chu smirked. Typically, board members didn’t attend the leadership retreats, but the CEO voting committee had opted in this year so they could “better evaluate their options.”
Richard’s presence was the only reason Tobias was bold enough to call me out. The little sleaze hid behind his board benefactor like a child hiding behind his mother’s skirts. It was probably why Richard liked him so much; he knew he could control him.
“We’re on track to close soon,” I said smoothly. “Big deals like DigiStream take time. I understand this is not an area you’re experienced in, but that’s what these retreats are for. Learning.”
Tobias’s smirk didn’t budge. “It’s funny you should say that.” The glint in his eyes sent the first trickle of unease down my spine. His ego was so fragile he reacted to the slightest insult, but he’d absorbed my public barb without batting an eye. “You may not have big news today, but I do.” He ran a hand over his tie, his tacky gold watch gleaming smugly beneath the lights. “I’m happy to announce that, after months of closed-door negotiations, we’ve reached a deal with Black Bear Entertainment.”
The words swirled in the air for a stunned moment before the table erupted with noise. Only my mother, one other CEO candidate, and I remained silent.
Black Bear Entertainment was one of the most prolific entertainment companies in the world. Its acquisition would add a huge, diverse slate of much-needed content to our subscription video service, which was historically one of the company’s weakest divisions. We’d been trying to shore it up for years.
As the current CEO, my mother must’ve already known about the deal. I wasn’t worried about it overshadowing DigiStream, which would be worth at least three times more once it closed, but Tobias beating me to a flashy announcement galled the hell out of me. I’d heard inklings he was pursuing Black Bear; I hadn’t expected him to succeed.
I slid a glance at the other silent candidate. Paxton James lounged next to Richard with an unreadable expression. Besides me, the executive vice president of business development was the youngest person in the room. He was sharp, witty, and innovative. Of all the candidates, I liked him the most, though I knew better than to underestimate him the way I had Tobias. He acted like he didn’t want the CEO position half the time, but he hadn’t climbed the ranks so quickly without a healthy dose of ambition.
He was likely lying low and evaluating what the Black Bear bombshell meant for his odds in the vote.
I studied the other candidates for their reaction to Tobias’s news.
Laura Nguyen, our Chief Communications Officer, sat rigid-backed, her disdain barely concealed by a tight smile. She’d skyrocketed the Young Corporation’s public profile over the past five years, and she disliked Tobias even more than I did. Proof she had good judgment when it came to press and people.
Next to her, Russell Burton slunk down in his seat. He’d served as the company’s Chief Operating Officer for over a decade. The quiet, unassuming father of two was the type of man who dealt better with systems than people. His candidacy was a formality after so many years of competent service, but judging by how green he turned every time someone brought up the vote, he would rather jab a steak knife in his eye than take on the burden of CEO.
“Congratulations.” My voice cut through the din. The room fell silent again, and I offered Tobias a courteous smile. “The acquisition is a great boon for the company. I’m excited to see where it goes.”
I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a bigger reaction. There were no benefits to acting petty and jealous. I wasn’t even jealous, merely annoyed.
The meeting officially adjourned. Low chatter and the scratch of metal against carpet filled the room as everyone rushed out for happy hour. The post-retreat gathering was optional, but no one ever missed the opportunity to hobnob.
We’d reserved the bar down the street, and for the next two hours, I circulated the room while trying not to think about Isabella. I’d much rather spend the evening with her, but I had to put in my face time.
Paxton sidled up to me during a lull and cut straight to the chase. “You think Black Bear will move the needle for Tobias?”
“Yes, but not enough.”
“Don’t write him off so easily. He’s a tricky bastard.”
I slid a glance at my companion. Beneath that easygoing demeanor were the instincts of a shark. “Reminds me of someone else I know.”
Paxton grinned, not bothering to deny it. “I’m here for the ride. EVP of a Fortune 500 company before the age of thirty-five? Not bad for a kid from Nebraska. CEO would be nice, but I’m not banking on it. That being said…” He nodded at where Tobias was holding court with Richard and two other voting committee members. “I have a low tolerance for that particular brand of bullshit. If it can’t be me, I’d much rather it be you.”
I examined him over my glass. “You want an alliance.”
“An agreement,” he corrected. “Alliance sounds so formal. But I’ll be straight with you. Two electors are leaning my way right now. It might not sound like a lot, but in the event of a tie, every additional vote counts. I can convince them to swing their vote to you.”
“You’ll do this out of the goodness of your heart, I presume,” I said dryly.
“That, and the promise of a promotion,” Paxton said without missing a beat. “President of Advertising Sales when Sullivan retires. He already has one foot out the door, and you know I have the chops for it.”
“Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you? Sullivan has a good five years left in the company.”
Paxton gave me a droll look.
Fair enough. Sullivan was more checked out than a bag of groceries at Citarella. Our advertisers loved him, but I gave him two years tops before he left.
“We’ve talked enough shop this past week,” I said. “Enjoy the drinks and food tonight. We’ll discuss any business matters later.”
I left my response purposely vague. I liked Paxton as a person, but I trusted him as far as I could throw him.
“Of course.” He raised his glass, seemingly unfazed by my lukewarm reception to his proposal. “Looking forward to it.”
The festivities wound down around nine. The company’s leadership trickled out one by one until only a handful were left.
Finally. I could make my excuses and leave without seeming rude. I’d had enough networking to last me for the next year.
“Kai.” My mother stopped me on my way out. “A word.”
I suppressed a sigh. So close.
I followed her to a quiet corner of the bar, out of the direct eyesight of the remaining executives.
The professional smile she’d worn all evening had melted away, leaving lines of tension in its wake.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “The Black Bear deal will be nothing compared to DigiStream when it goes through. The board knows that.”
She arched an elegant dark brow. With her smooth skin and rich black hair, courtesy of London’s top esthetician and colorist, she could pass for someone in her late thirties instead of late fifties. “Will it go through?”
“Of course,” I said, insulted she’d even ask. “When have I ever failed?”
“Word has it Mishra isn’t budging and Whidby is at risk of being permanently removed as CEO. If I hear these things, so does the board. They aren’t pleased.”
My shoulders tensed. “I know. I have contingencies for all of those scenarios.”
“I’m sure you do, but that’s not enough.” My mother pursed her lips. “This isn’t just about deals, Kai. CEO elections aren’t as clear-cut as profit and loss statements.”
“I’m aware.”
“I don’t think you are.” Her voice lowered. “Getting voted in isn’t about merit. It’s about politics. Your last name is both an advantage and a detriment. Some board members favor you because you’re a Young and they value stability. But others resent you for that very reason. They’re using the DigiStream delay and your…modern views regarding the future of the company to advocate for fresh blood. That faction is growing louder by the day.”
A chill swept through the air and sank into my bones. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying you need to stop coasting on your name and record and start placating some of your naysayers, or you could very well lose the vote.”
The word lose tore through me like a fanged beast.
History remembered the winners. The losers faded into obscurity, their names lost over time like statues rubbed smooth by too many hands. Dead in every way, as if they’d never existed.
Pressure suffocated my chest.
“I’m not going to lose,” I said, my voice colder than intended. “I never do.”
“Make sure you don’t.” My mother didn’t look entirely convinced. “I’ve already said more than I should. I’m supposed to be neutral, but this is our family name on the line. Imagine what people will say if a Young loses the CEO position of Young Corporation. We’ll never recover from the shame.”
She fixed me with the same no-bullshit stare that had enemies and allies alike trembling before her. “Campaign for the job, Kai. Do what it takes to make them happy. I know you think it’s beneath you, but don’t let your pride get in the way of winning. Not unless you want Tobias giving you orders from the corner office.”
My stomach revolted.
I hated the word campaign almost as much as the word lose. It was so…undignified. The fake smiles, the ass-kissing, the platitudes both parties knew but didn’t acknowledge as lies.
But my mother knew exactly which buttons to push; I would rather swallow a vial of poison than take a single order from Tobias Foster.
The frigid night air cooled my anger when I stepped outside. Still, unease roiled beneath my skin, and returning home to my apartment didn’t hold the same appeal it usually did.
I took out my phone and opened my latest message thread.
Me: Are you still at Valhalla?
I should’ve been tapped out on socializing, but talking to Isabella never drained me the way talking to other people did.
Isabella: Nope, I just got home
Isabella: I don’t have a shift tonight…
The implied invitation was clear.
Me: I’ll be there in twenty minutes
