Chuckling, Colton hung up. His phone rang again. “Mitus.”
“Colton, Wilson Montgomery, MobiCom’s V.P. of Mergers and Acquisitions. I hope it’s not too late.”
Hair on the back of his neck prickled.Why would someone from Francesco’s biggest rival contact me?“I’m always working.”
“MobiCom execs are ready to discuss a merger.”
Colton strummed his fingers on his leg. “Mitus Conglomerate isn’t a telecom company. I’m a corporate investor.”
“Let me clarify. MobiCom is interested in merging with the Francesco Company.”
“Why propose this to me?”And why the fuck now?
“You hold a seat on Francesco’s board and leadership doesn’t take a crap without consulting you first.”
Colton’s stomach roiled. “I’m not—”
“Let’s face it,” Montgomery interrupted. “That stock has been in a steady decline. Merging would reenergize the organization. I’ll email over the proposal.”
Assuming prick.“Francesco board members and shareholders aren’t interested in your so-called merger.”
“They might be when they learn MobiCom is offering eight percent over market for their shares.”
Dammit.“Save your proposal. My wealth manager doesn’t have time to review it. We’re done.” Colton hung up and clenched his fist.Maybe Marjorie was right.He whipped his gaze to Dez. “The vultures are circling. MobiCom wants Francesco.”
“You’d never support a merger and don’t have a wealth manager,” Dez replied.
“Wilson Montgomery is wasting his damn time pandering to me.” Colton’s eyes narrowed in the darkened car. “And I sure as hell do have a wealth manager. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
7
COLTON’S LATE NIGHT REQUEST
Brigit placed the candlelitcupcake bouquet on her dining room table in front of Monica Hall, Shaniqua’s daughter. Though Monica’s eyes were closed, she had the sweetest smile plastered across her face. This month’s Saturday night dinner party was a celebration of Monica’s eighteenth birthday.
After moving to D.C., Brigit had started volunteering at a women’s homeless shelter. Her parents had taught her the value of charity and she hoped doing something familiar would ease her grief and heartache. Over time, she became friends with Shaniqua Hall and her then twelve-year-old daughter, Monica. Now they were family.
Brigit and Shaniqua exchanged smiles. “Okay, Monica, open your eyes,” Brigit said.
Her hazel eyes popped open. “Aw, they’re so pretty and so pink!”
“Happy birthday, honey.” Brigit ran her fingers down Monica’s sleek black hair, then slipped back into her seat. “Make a wish.”
The birthday girl heaved in a giant breath and blew out the candles.
“They’re almost too perfect to eat,” Shaniqua said. “Operative word beingalmost.”
Brigit poured coffee and they dug in.
“Colton Mitus and Dez Livingston seemed nice.” Shaniqua trickled cream into her mug.
Brigit cringed. She did not want to discuss that man in her home. “Did you tip them off to happy hour yesterday?”
“I preach stranger danger to Monica. Do you think I’d tell a prospective client where you hang out after work on Fridays?” Shaniqua nibbled a pink frosting petal.
“Of course not. My bad.”
“If Seth didn’t squeal, it must have been Kaleb,” said Shaniqua. “That man cannot keep his mouth shut. So, Colton showed at up at Sullivan’s? Gotta love a man who goes after what he wants.”
