I raise the hand that’s holding Olivia’s and say, “Mr. Merrick. So sorry we’re late.”
“It’s all my fault,” Olivia exclaims. “I lost track of time.”
“Traffic was insane,” I joke and then make a sort of choking sound that was meant to be a jocular laugh. I don’t know why this man makes me so nervous or why I care so much about making a good impression. But I do. “I’m kidding. Itwasall her fault.”
“I’m very glad you could make it,” he says, wiping his hands on his shirt and walking over to shake my hand. “Thank you for coming all the way out here, John.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure, sir. We’re on vacation for a bit anyway.”
“Ah, yes,” he says, turning his attention to Olivia.
She curtsies, and again, I make that unfortunate choking sound.
“Mr. Merrick, this is my girlfriend, Olivia Montgomery, of the Bay Area Ballet Company.”
He offers his hand to Olivia, and they shake.
“It’s so nice to meet you, sir. This is such a beautiful garden. Do you take care of it all by yourself?”
“I do, yes. Always have. Always plan to, until they bury me in it.”
I make the choking sound again.
Olivia steps closer to me and rubs my back. “You okay, honey?”
“Yep. You?”
“Yes. I’m not the one who forgot to hydrate,” she says, forcing a smile.
“I didn’t forget, my darling. I know how to drink water when I’m thirsty.”
Well. We certainlysoundlike a real couple. An old married one, I think.
Merrick is just standing there, squinting as he studies us. It’s awkward. Finally, he says, “Yes, there’s no need for you to be nervous, John Brandt. I see through this little ruse. I appreciate the effort, but I don’t think this is a good fit.”
I can’t tell if he’s referring to himself and my company or to me and Olivia, and I’m not sure which would be worse. “We may be opposites,” I say tentatively, “but we definitely?—”
“I hope you don’t take offense, my dear,” he says to Olivia. “You’re a lovely girl.” He turns to me. “But what kind of absent-minded professor do you take me for?”
“Sir?”
“Awfully convenient. This new ballerina girlfriend who suddenly appeared in your Instagram posts soon after you learned I have a granddaughter who yearns to become a ballerina…”
I wish I wasn’t so pleased to find out that George Merrick has looked at my Instagram profile, but I’m really stoked.
Even though—shit.
This is not good.
“The purpose of this meeting was for me to assess your character, John,” he continues. “I thought I made it clear that I won’t commit to any company if I can’t trust that the billionaire behind it isn’t honest and ethical. I think I’ve seen enough.”
He’s right. He’s a genius. I should have known I couldn’t fool him. “You’re right,” I start to admit.
“Yes.” Olivia steps in, cutting me off. “We must have appeared to be a bit stilted in the way we spoke with each other, but it’s because I really did make us late. He was nervous about meeting you, so I…played ye olde skin fluteto try to get him to relax. And now he’s mad at me because he doesn’t like to be late. He’s never late. I know this because I’ve known him my entire life.”
Merrick’s still squinting at her as he assesses, but he’s definitely open to this explanation.
I’m already planning to call Sanjay to get us on an earlier flight to New York and kissing my investment goodbye, though, because I don’t recall Audrey Hepburn saying the wordsye olde skin flutein any of her films.
