None of this information was shared with Mrs.Ford.
The problem is, Open Leaf has stiff competition.Over the years, it has fought hard to compete, and they haven’t kept up with trends.That’s where all companies trip themselves up.The stores are rundown and lack popular stock, and their staff are tired.
But, as I said, a few are located in prime real estate.Some they own, some they rent.That will be a big focus over the coming weeks for me and the team.
When Gemma asked after we all signed the sale of the property, what my plans were, I’d replied, “That isn’t something I can share at this point, Ms.Ford—”
“Mrs.Ford,” Gemma snapped.
“Mrs.Ford.”
I’d held her stern gaze, wishing I could circle her neck with my hand and ask who was pleasuring her slick pussy now she slept alone.
That I had other talents besides business and could help her with the ache I knew she’d been trying to stifle during our meetings.Clenching her legs, biting her lower lip, glancing at my crotch when we stood after each meeting.
She wanted to know how thick my cock was.
I wanted to show her.
Then watch it slide down her throat as she choked on its length.
Such a shame she doesn’t have long hair to wrap around my fist.Her sleek, dark bob creates a prim and proper impression—one I want to see crumble as she screams my name as she comes.
You see my problem?
I fuckingcan’t.
Robin is talking, and I’m still not paying attention.
Gemma thinks I lied to her.I haven’t.Everything is outlined clearly in the contract, so she needs to get her sweet ass back here.
OCP now owns Open Leaf, and she needs to fulfill her end of the bargain while I do what I do best: make a high-risk investment and turn it into profit.
The latter is going to be uncomfortable for her to observe.
You’re in my world now, sweetheart, so buckle up.
Glancing at my team seated around the table, I uncross my ankles and straighten my back.Because I’m the founder and managing partner, everyone mirrors me.
“Let’s wrap this up.I have to get across town.”I nod at Robin.“This looks good.Send me the numbers, and I’ll share my final thoughts tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Drew.”
I nod and head out the door.
The question is, do I have my driver take me to Gemma Ford’s penthouse to kick her Prada-clad ass or head to the Obsidian Club for some light relief?
The club—an adults-only club—is owned by my buddy, Colt Winters, and could be just what the doctor ordered.
Striding down to my office, I pass my personal assistant, Chloe.“Tell Jeeves to meet me out front.”
His name really is Jeeves.
“Yes, sir.Oh, Drew, I have a message here from Mrs.Ford.”
My jaw clenches as I stop in the doorway to my office and turn.“Yes?”
“She says, and I quote, go to hell.”
