Page 24 of Dirty Boss

Arlo Noble wasa broad-shouldered man with a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair. He greeted me with a firm handshake before we sat down across from each other. The crisp white tablecloth brushed my knees as I took my seat, the glassware on the table shining under the multitude of chandeliers in the space.

Hillary had chosen well. The Italian restaurant was formal enough without being stuffy. The staff wore crisp, clean uniforms, and the kitchen was visible from the dining room through a long rectangular opening. The movements and voices of the cooks provided a counterpoint to the clinking of dishes and murmur of low conversation.

When the waitress asked about drinks, Arlo ordered sparkling water for the table, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t been looking forward to nursing a drink when I had to go back to work later. The waitress left, and Arlo faced me.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” I started.

“Of course. I’m always willing to listen to an intriguing business proposition.” He smiled, and I saw a shark in his eyes.

Nerves gripped me. Here was a man who’d started and sold half a dozen companies. He was a visionary. I was just acontractor who’d traded his steel-toed boots for shiny leather shoes, pretending to belong in the boardroom I rented on the forty-second floor of a building that never felt quite comfortable.

Money poured in from my various ventures, but it still felt fake. I still wondered if it would crumble away to nothing one day, the way it always had in my childhood.

Then I remembered Alba’s words.All you have to do is act like that investment is coming, one way or another. Someone will bite.

She’d been right about the suit; there was a marked difference in the way the maître d’ had spoken to me, the way doormen stood straighter when I walked in, the way a few women’s heads had turned when I strode down the street.

It made me feel slightly sick. I remembered my father donning his one nice suit before any big business meeting, my mother fussing over him as he promised thatthis time, things would work out.This time, his ship would come in. We’d be rich, and all our troubles would go away.

Butthis timenever came—not until I made it happen for myself.

Now I was dressing like him. Dressing better than him, truthfully, and people were treating me like I was somehow superior to the man I’d been before. I didn’t like it. It felt like a lie. It felt like everything I’d resented about my father, tailored to fit my frame.

It hadn’t felt like a lie when Alba looked at me. I’d seen her stumble and been darkly satisfied. I’d watched her watch me, and I’d felt the air between us spark. Then her fingers had brushed my throat as she’d buttoned my shirt and tied my tie. Her breath had ghosted across my jaw, and I’d curled my hands into fists to stop myself from resting them on her hips.

I refocused on the man across from me. He watched me with dark brown eyes, leaning back in his chair, looking at ease as he studied me.

“The growth of your business has been impressive,” Arlo said. “Fifteen years ago, you decided to expand your steady, successful one-man-van operation. And the last five years have been meteoric.”

My instinct was to jump into the numbers, to try to convince Arlo with logic that my company was worth his time and money, but Alba’s words still echoed in my head. If this were a done deal, what would I say?

I’d tell him the truth, I realized.

So that’s what I did: “Fifteen years ago, my father died, and I realized I didn’t want to end up like him,” I told Arlo. “And five years ago, my daughter was born, and I realized I’d do anything for her.”

Arlo hummed, head tilting. “When Will, my son, was born, it changed my entire worldview. Everything I did took on a new meaning. Then I had my daughter Becca, and everything changed again.”

I nodded, immediately calmer. “It’s not just a business anymore. It’s her college fund and her safety net. It’s everything I was never able to have as a kid.”

“The last five years of your growth makes more sense now,” Arlo mused. “I wondered what had changed.”

“We were aggressive,” I conceded. “And with another set of eyes—someone who sees business and growth and gets excited—I think we could go even further.”

Arlo smiled, but he didn’t have a chance to respond. The waitress appeared to take our orders, and we settled into a more casual conversation. I let him circle back to business, remembering what Alba had said about my meeting with Roger.When our meal was done, Arlo set his glass of sparkling water aside and looked at me.

“I’m interested,” he said bluntly, “but I need time to review your financials. I’d also like to make sure that our values align.”

“Of course.”

“My foundation is having a charity gala in a few weeks. We’re holding it early this year, at the beginning of March—venue problems.” He flicked a hand. “I’ll have my assistant send you the details. We still have a table or two available, if you were interested in attending.”

Ah. A shakedown.Donate to my charity, and I’ll look at investing in your company.I respected the hustle, and it was further than I’d gotten with any other potential investor, so I nodded. “Sure.”

“Good,” he said, then he shook my hand and left the restaurant. I sat back in my chair with a sigh, my legs suddenly feeling like wet noodles. All the tension in my muscles disappeared in a rush, and I scrubbed my face to try to get some life back in my body.

I’d passed the first hurdle, but now I needed to clear the second. The thought of his fancy soirée made my heart speed up. Attending a charity gala was not in my wheelhouse. It presented endless opportunities for me to mess up. Would I need a tux? Would there be food? Was I meant to bring a date? Was Arlo serious, or did he simply want to extort me for his charity?

I had no idea. I was out of my depth—but this was the best shot at a business deal I’d gotten since I’d started looking for an investor. A familiar need rose up inside me: the need to control every possible outcome. I needed to learn everything about charity galas. I needed to gather every bit of information I could so that I could control what happened next.