The silver case popped open.
Inside were a dozen eggshell-white business cards with her name andChief Executive Officerwritten underneath. The address and phone number for GameShack’s corporate office were in the lower right-hand corner. When she smoothed her fingertips over the cards, the lettering was raised. “Oh, wow. You shouldn’t have, but these are really nice. Thanks!”
“My absolute pleasure.” Tristan smiled. “I’ll see you in a week.”
62
GameShack
Colleen
The door chimed with that same damned videogame song from five years ago as it opened, and Colleen strolled into the GameShack store where she’d spent the better part of the last two years trying to keep her head above the proverbial water.
The boxes on the shelves were dustier than they had been when Tristan had gotten her fired a month before, and they were stacked haphazardly instead of the pretty displays that she’d worked on whenever she’d gotten a chance.
The same out-of-date cardboard cutout of a videogame character still stood at the end of one of the rows, but it had a crease that hadn’t been there.
No one came out and greeted her. She strolled among the shelves to the desk at the back.
At the service desk, she tapped a bell that clinked loudly in the stillness of the silent store.
After a few minutes, her former manager, Frank Miller, hurried from the back to stand at the cash register. “Welcome to GameShack. How can I—Colleen Frost?”
He gaped at Colleen, and she supposed she did look different. Her high-heeled pumps with red soles even made her a few inches taller.
Now that Colleen was looking at Frank Miller as his employer instead of someone whom he could fire on a whim, the right-angle tattoo on the side of his neck above his faded golf shirt was definitely the top of a swastika.
His other tattoos were just as despicable, and his greasy skin shined in the fluorescent lights overhead.
Those horrid plaid golf pants he wore were too tight and stained on the thighs.
How had this loser ever risen to be a manager?
Miller’s irritated expression turned to a sneer. “So,Colleen Frost.Have you finally come to beg for your old job back?”
“Nope.” Colleen tossed her brand-new business card on the help desk. “I’m the new CEO of GameShack Corporation. I have HR and security waiting outside to escort you off the premises. You’re fired.”
63
Phone Call
Tristan
Afew days after Tristan dropped Colleen off at the Nice airport, he was taking afternoon hot chocolate on the middle deck of his yacht.
She would’ve been better off taking a private plane. He was going to insist next time.
One of the ship’s staff brought him his tea and biscuits, and Jian came bounding up the stairs. His ribs and shoulder had healed well. “I’ve rebooked your appointment with my tailor for tomorrow since we so rudely missed our appointment last month. I took the liberty of chartering a private plane to Milan because driving for three and a half hours seemed excessive. We’ll catch a helicopter to Nice from the heliport tomorrow at nine a.m.”
Tristan raised one eyebrow at him. “And if I had plans for tomorrow?”
“Nothingis more important than proper fashion, Mr. King.”
“Do we have to have another conversation about that Mr. King business? After all we’ve been through, it seems silly to stand on that kind of formality.”
“I prefer it, sir.”
Tristan shook his head. “How much did you make off the GameShack stock dividend?”
