“I want to see him alone.”
“Then I’ll get a cab and see you outside.”
I hesitate. But I am tired, and her help would be useful on the financial models. It’s far from the first time we’ve worked at my apartment; she’s even spent the night there, on more than one occasion. In the spare room.
“Fine. Give me ten minutes.”
She picks up her coat, drapes it over one arm, and heads for the door. Pauses with it open, throws me a look full of promise, adds a playful smile, and walks out.
I know damn well a lot of men would take her up on that offer. I heard a colleague remark that Rita’s sex on legs.
If I’d been single and we didn’t have a working relationship, maybe I’d look at her differently. But she’s more valuable to me as my Chief of Staff than as a fuck-and-chuck.
And she’s not Vicky,I remind myself. I’m not the kind of man to settle for second best.
You had the best. You let her go.
I’m going to make damn sure I get her back.
Talking to myself is one thing. Arguing with myself means I’ve been here too long.
I wander through the executive floor to find DeLuca. It’s dark both outside and within, low-level security lighting in the hallways and most of the offices unoccupied. I like being here at this late hour. It’s familiar, like the place is just mine, when the work really matters because it has to be done now, not tomorrow.
There’s a light on in DeLuca’s office, and I raptwice and open the door. He looks up, waves me in, then clicks a button to bring his screensaver up. Even though the monitor isn’t facing me. The reflection in the window behind him shows a classic Jaguar, blurry and distorted.
“What can I do for you?” he asks.
“Nothing important. We were just finishing up for the night and I saw your light on.”
He waves me to one of the chairs before his desk. “It’s the first proper chance we’ve had to talk since last Monday. Your opinion?”
I use the action of sitting down to compose my thoughts. “The model makes sense,” I say carefully. “Greenstone will be a good test case for me.”
“More than a test, I hope,” he says. “I’m expecting you to own it—all of it—and use the likes of Serrano as you need to.”
Another reminder that I don’t have the option of failing. Or is it ‘we’? DeLuca is my sponsor; will his fingers join mine on the table? “Don’t worry, I have a plan laid out already.”
He tilts his head, regarding me for a long moment, then nods. “Good. I knew I was right about you.”
“This social on Friday.” There’s a crack in the leather armrest of my chair, and I pick at it. “I’m not sure Vicky will be able to attend.”
“Get her there, Alex.” It’s not a request.
“She’s not been well.”
“It’s a ball,” he says flatly. “I told you having a partner is important.”
“Then I’ll bring another.”
His eyes narrow and his head moves like he’s weighing it up. “It’s not ideal, especially for your first social event, but I suppose it matters less when they haven’t met Victoria yet.”
He always uses her full name, even when I don’t.
“You told me that stability was important,” I say, keeping it light. “Is that another word for loyalty?”
“After a fashion.” He leans back, resting his hands on his ample stomach. “Fournier in particular surrounds himself with family men. And what Fournier says goes.”
“So it’s a preference?” I ask.
