Page 69 of Take Her
“Can I come?” I asked, standing definitively on my side of the line between business and pleasure.
“Not this time, no. This is incredibly preliminary—I’m just feeling out our options with some people we’ve worked with before.”
“Worked with?” I asked, mimicking him, but adding mobster air quotes.
He shrugged, and mimed right back at me—closing one nostril off with a finger, then pretending to do a bump of coke off of the back of his hand. I gasped, and he laughed.
“Not recently, Jesus,” he defended himself. “I’ll involve you later, when the time’s right,” he swore. As he came into Mrs. Armstrong’s office with me—and sensed my radiating disbelief—he snorted softly. “I can’t roll into meetings with Nero Ferreo’s daughter from the jump. Don’t worry; you’ll be my secret weapon.”
I wanted to ask if he was just saying that to placate me but then realized I didn’t want to upset myself. Yesterday had been good.
Today could be too.
“And you’ll tell me everything that goes down?”
He made a cross over his well-fitting suit. “Promise. Just hold down the fort here. Cancel everything for me, for today and tomorrow. I gave you access to most of the financials. Pretend you’re an auditor for me, do a deep dive, eh? See if everything passes muster—seeing as you actually know things might not. And until you hear from me—forget you even heard the word IPO.”
I nodded—because I wished I could.
Because that was something else I’d spent a long time considering last night, too: the state of my father’s company.
I’d assumed I’d had time to prove myself and move up in Corvo’s world. But if my dad was planning to take it public without me, and I wasn’t any part of the C-suite or the board first, I wasn’t at the table, or the kiddie table.
I was thirty minutes away, playing at the beach.
And the thought of being cut out of my legacy without a say infuriated me.
Rhaim tilted his head slightly, to be inside my range of vision again. “Be good, Business Lia,” he said, the corners of his mouth curving up. “And keep your phone on.”
I inhaled deeply to recenter myself. “Yes, sir.”
I canceled everything on his calendar easily and ignored a lot of his incoming emails—I really hoped he was right about important people having his number, because I was not giving Mrs. Armstrong’s desk much diligence.
I was more curious about what I’d find out about Corvo. Looking at a company solely through the lens of its numbers was like trying to investigate a new species of beast after only finding its bones.
Everything said Corvo was solid, at the peak of its efficiency—I cruised through spreadsheets and the transcripts of quarterly calls—and occasionally someone would say something during those about taking things public—which my father would instantly put down.
What had changed?
I was considering this with the limited information I had at hand, before lunch, when my phone beeped.
I glanced at it automatically and when I saw the name Monster flash I squeaked—but then the words beneath it made it very clear that it was Rhaim. He must’ve put himself into my phone the prior night.
Go into my office.
I blinked, and did as I was told, taking my phone back with me.
Did you forget a file?
I texted back.
No. Close the door.
I did, with a slightly guilty conscience, and an unwarranted flood between my legs.
Done
I texted back, then quickly added,