Marjorie stuffed the cigarette behind her ear and took off toward the elevator bank. A quick ride to the top floor, then Marjorie led them down the hall to the executive conference room. After walking in, Brigit gasped.
“Nice view, isn’t it?” Marjorie winked.
It wasn’t the familiar park-like setting or the duck pond that had her fighting the surge of emotion. Two beautiful oil portraits of Samantha and Nicholas Francesco adorned the far wall. Their likeness so real she wanted to throw her arms around them. But the paintings were also a harsh reminder that her parents were gone because of the selfish choice she’d made. Grief and guilt lodged in her throat and she turned away.
“Who are the portraits of?” Red plunked down at the lacquered mahogany conference table.
“Our company founders, Nicolas and Samantha Francesco.” Marjorie sat at the head. The rest of the Mitus team joined her.
“Did they retire?” Chad asked.
“They were killed in a drunk driving accident,” Marjorie said. “It was the single most tragic event in my life. I could talk about my dear friends for hours, but we’ll save the nostalgia for another day. Today is all about saving Francesco.” Marjorie glanced at Brigit.
Spurred by the determination in Mrs. Mic’s eyes, Brigit felt empowered. Fierce loyalty to Francesco flowed through their veins. And even though Brigit wasn’t privy to the wireless secrets or details surrounding the merger proposition, Colton believed she’d add value or he wouldn’t have insisted she go. For the first time since he’d told her she’d be joining him, her queasy stomach settled down.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Chad said.
“Thank you.” Marjorie flipped open her notebook. “Let’s get started, shall we? Yesterday Wilson Montgomery, MobiCom’s V.P. of Mergers and Acquisitions, sailed in here with an obnoxious take-charge attitude. The worst part is that Bob Dobb—our president— failed to mention the meeting. I saw them gallivanting around during the tour.”
“When do you anticipate an offer?” Dez asked.
“By Thanksgiving,” Marjorie said. “Dobb acted like a proud papa introducing the MobiCom team. All that was missing was a handful of cigars, which I’d have gladly shoved up his ass!”
Brigit snorted. Mrs. Mic hadn’t changed a bit.
“Sounds like you suspect Dobb of being more than a gracious host,” Red said as a second door at the far end of the room swung open and a squirrely man entered.
“Just because you can’t see his horns doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” Marjorie muttered under her breath.
Brash, bold and no holds barred Mrs. Mic.
After introductions, faux smiles, and a heavy dose of bullshit from Bob Dobb about how thrilled he was to see the Mitus team, he slipped into a seat next to Red. Everything about Dobb screamedaverage. But a mediocre leader wasn’t good enough for the Francesco Company.
“Bob, I’m in your seat.” But Marjorie didn’t move.
“We don’t stand on formalities,” Bob crooned. “Please stay where you are. Sitting here works.” He turned to Red and drew back his lips.
His leering smile made Brigit shiver.Creepy.
Bob shifted his gaze across the table to Colton. “Were you in the neighborhood, like MobiCom?”
“No, Bob, we weren’t.” Colton’s cold tone caught Brigit’s immediate attention. “Speaking of MobiCom, what prompted their visit? Sounds like your position has changed since we last spoke.”
Bob leaned back in the cushioned chair and rested his ankle over his opposing thigh, then clasped his hands behind his head. More relaxed he could not have looked. “Colton, I appreciate your directness. MobiCom floated a merger proposition. There’s no harm in listening, is there?” His disingenuous smile turned Brigit’s stomach as she spun the cold silver bracelet adorning her wrist. The president of the Francesco Company was terrible at talking out of both sides of his mouth.
Pinning him with a cold stare, Colton stayed quiet, save for the strumming of his fingers on the polished wood.
“But rest assured,listeningis all I’m doing.” Bob continued. “I have no intention of championing a merger.”
Colton squared his shoulders. “What do they know about Crockett Boxes?”
Bob bolted upright. “Nothing! MobiCom’s offer is unrelated, though the timing couldn’t be better.”
“Better?” Marjorie’s eyebrows jutted up to her forehead. “We’re not announcing our deals with the wireless carriers untilafterthey place their initial orders. The timing couldn’t beworse!”
“I disagree,” Bob said, shifting in his chair. “Seeing Francesco trending would be great publicity.”
“Yes, it would.” Colton glanced at Marjorie. “Thanks for stopping by, Bob.”
