Impatient for his answer and hoping he wouldn’t side with our father, I stood and removed my shirt. I grabbed the spare I always kept hanging in my bathroom closet and put it on. As I buttoned it and returned to my chair, my brother finally spoke.
“Right. Well, you know this probably isn’t your fault. It’s just like Dad to blame someone else. You’re also both quick to jump to the worst conclusions.” He crossed his ankle over his knee and relaxed into his chair. “The timing could just be a coincidence.Have you looked over the figures? Did those companies give any reason for moving their business?” Jack’s temperament was all Mom—calm and positive. It normally grated on me because it was as if he didn’t take things seriously enough and prepare for the worst, but today, even though I didn’t agree with him, his opinion brought a modicum of rationality to the swarm of ants Dad had unleashed when he came in here and dropped the bomb last week.
“Hmm, maybe it’s a coincidence. I’m waiting on the figures. They should be ready today. I’m going to call Victoria in once I’ve had a look. See if she can help me make sense of things. As far as I know, no one’s complained.”
“Are your fees way over market?”
I raised a brow. We were worth every damned cent we charged. “We charge the going rate for a company of our caliber, and our fees haven’t increased since a year before I took this job. We’re on par with Axis and Partridges.” Axis were number one in our industry, and Partridges were just behind us at number three for turnover. But if this slide persisted, we’d soon be number three or below. I felt sick just thinking about it. How low could we go?
“Try not to stress until you go through those figures. If you look at those numbers and nothing has changed, it’s not your fault.”
I wished I had his confidence in me. “Maybe they don’t like a thirty-two-year-old running the company. I’ll check and see how many old boys are running the companies that left. Maybe it was only loyalty to Dad keeping them here.” That would be just great. I couldn’t make myself any older. But maybe I could appeal to them, show them somehow that I was capable. Shove the figures in their faces. Unless…. I forced out a breath. Unless the return on their investment in our services had fallen.
“The world isn’t ending, C. You’ll figure it out. I have total faith in you.” His phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “I have to take this. Sorry. When you’re as popular as me, everyone wants a piece.”He winked, giving me his “what can you do?” smile. It was always his way to defuse with humor, and it usually worked, but today’s shitshow was too depressing for it to have any effect.
I waved a hand as if to say “go for it.” He answered it, and I buzzed Margie.
“Yes, Mr. Knight.”
“Have you got those figures?”
“Yes. They arrived a few minutes ago.”
“Can you send them through and arrange a meeting with Victoria in my next available timeslot?”
“Certainly, sir. Is that all?”
“Yes, thanks.” I hung up. At least I could count on Margie to be efficient. She never bothered me with inane chatter. We understood each other. She organized things with the precision of a drill sergeant, and I appreciated it.
My brother hung up his call and stood. “Sorry, but I gotta run. There’s been a mistake with an order of fabric from India, and Mom’s not there to deal with it. She’s taken Grandma to the specialist today, and we can’t just replace the fabric with any old thing. We ordered it specially from an up-and-coming artist, and we need it for next month’s show.”
“It’s fine. You go deal with it. I’ll let you know if I find anything. You can talk me off the ledge when I’m done.”
He glanced at my desk, then chuckled. “You can count on me. Later, sprinkles.” He smirked as he turned and went to the door.
I noticed a stray pink sprinkle on my table and rolled my eyes as the door clicked shut behind Jack. After disposing of said sprinkle and the image of Faith’s big, blue eyes that had popped into my mind, I woke my computer and went to my emails. There it was, the one I was waiting for. I opened it, pushing my trepidation away. Everyone thought I was Mr. Confident, but I doubted myself, a lot. I just pretended I would succeed. I wasn’t exactly faking it before I made it, because I knew what I was doing, but theconfidence wasn’t always real. This was one of those times where I had to push my doubts aside for the good of the company. Whether I was scared I was a failure or not, I needed to know.
An hour later, and I was done. One of the companies had a 10 percent increase in costs per sale, but the other two had ticked along consistently for the last twelve months. I felt slightly better—I could at least prove to my father that I hadn’t made any disastrous decisions, but did that mean the companies didn’t want me at the helm? God knew that plenty of business deals were all about who you felt comfortable with or who you owed, and no one owed me a damned thing. I’d also attracted two large clients. Our fifteenth and eighteenth biggest clients were run by guys I’d met at college. One was a tech company, the other a luxury hotel business that had thirty hotels in fourteen different countries.
My confidence was returning, albeit slowly. My brother was right—I needed to calm down and look at the facts. An answer would make itself clear in time.
My email dinged. Victoria was coming to see me at four today. Good. I could run this past her, ask if any of the companies had said anything or asked questions before they defected.
Right, so I was getting my ducks in a row. And I needed to—I was meeting with Dad and the board of directors next week, and they wanted answers. I just hoped I could give them what they wanted. Now things were more settled on that front, I could let my mind wander to the break room and that sexy disaster with the ridiculous heels and soulful blue eyes.
I buzzed Margie.
“Yes, Mr. Knight?”
“I need you to run some clothes to the dry cleaners this afternoon.”
“Certainly, sir. The shirt and tie?” I ignored the amused tone in her voice. It was a lot easier than ignoring Donut Girl.
“Yes, Margie. Thank you.” I hung up and scratched an itch atmy neck.What was that? I picked something off and looked at it. This time, the sprinkle was yellow. How many more sprinkles were hiding around here? Sweeping it and visions of the sweet disaster from marketing into my trash can, I put this morning out of my head. I had work to do.
CHAPTER 7
FAITH
