“It wasn’t him, actually,” Amelia continued, “but the other guy he was with. He had red hair, streaked with gray, a short beard, and drank alotof whiskey.” She frowns, the little crease between her eyebrows beyond endearing. “Sorry, I should have found out his name before bothering you.”
“Emmanuel Bishop. Don’t worry. I know who he is too. What did he say?”
“He said that he’s made an offer to buy Barnes Enterprises.”
I sit forward in my chair, staring at her in disbelief. “What??”
“He told Michael Stubbs about it, loud enough for me to overhear. I wondered afterward if he was lying about it. Why would he have such an open discussion about it at a gala you were hosting? Wouldn’t he have wanted to keep it private? But I thought I should tell you anyway.”
“You’re certain?” I ask, all the possible explanations storming my brain at once. Amelia nods as she steps toward my desk.
“He told Stubbs that you hadn’t signed off on the deal yet, pretty much implying that, as it wasn’t set in stone, he can dowhatever he wants. Apparently, he sent Barnes the offer while he was on vacation. He seemed pretty confident about it, but I don’t know what the terms were.”
I slam my fist against the desk, standing up, my mind moving feverishly.
“Shit.”
Amelia doesn’t say anything until I look at her. “Maybe I should have told you last night.”
“No, but I’m glad you told me,” I tell her firmly. “I need to make some calls.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Do you need me to ask Kaitlin to push your meeting back?”
“No. Not yet. Do we know where Barnes is?”
She hesitates, that beautiful lip caught beneath her teeth, and then she opens her palm to reveal a small, perfectly folded piece of paper. She hands it to me, her handwriting neat and small at the top.
“I called his PA this morning and asked whether he was in the country. She said no and told me he’s in the Maldives. I kind of pretended I had always wanted to go, and got the name of the resort out of her.”
I stare at her handwriting in amazement. “This is the resort where Barnes is staying?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yes. But his PA said he’s not taking any calls while he’s there.”
I nod. “I can believe that. Part of the reason he’s selling is that he hasn’t been able to really take a true vacation in thirty years. I’ve witnessed how his wife can be when he isn’t focused on his family, and I wouldn’t take calls if she were with me either.” I pause for a minute, feeling even more anger rising in my chest. “Damn it, I can’t fucking believe Bishop would do this.”
“Is there anything else you need me to do?” she asks, turning toward the door.
I stand up, my decision made.
“Can you go home and pack a bag?” I ask her.
She looks at me in confusion. “I’m sorry?”
“I need to close this deal, Amelia. And Barnes likes you. He’s there with his wife. If I show up alone and start fucking up his vacation, I won’t get anywhere.”
“Show up… you mean go to the Maldives?” she asks, her eyebrows shooting up.
“It’s the only way to secure this thing. I’ve worked with men like Barnes before; big gestures matter, and he’ll have no sympathy with me by myself. But if I takeyou, we can do this together.”
“Together?” She stares at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“It’s the simplest way to get this deal over the line,” I add. “If other people are sniffing around, there’s every chance that with a bit of distance, our agreement will feel less solid to him. Fuck, I knew I should have drawn up the paperwork right then and there.”
“I can’t go to the Maldives!” Amelia protests.
I frown at her. “Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, I don’t have a passport.”
