Page 88 of Kiss Me Again
“Yes well, the Beau you know is dead. Long live Paranoid Beau.”
I snort a laugh. “What are you going on about?”
“I should have been more prepared. I should have gotten Pavel Cerny on board months ago. Thought I had more time—
“Tell me the rumor.”
He huffs. “Do you know Barbara Tanner?”
The name rings a bell. “Socialite, right? Involved in a few Manhattan charities?”
He nods. “I’m friends with Barbara, and she’s friends with Pavel Cerny’s ex-wife, Angelica. According to Barbara, Angelica was complaining about Pavel getting headhunted for a huge hotel project in Dubai because he won’t be around to see their kids as much for the next two years. Two years, Cormac!”
“Ex-wives are not known for their reliable information, Beau.”
His eyes flash for a moment. “I’ll try to remember that. But whatever the case, I know in my gut the architecture firm is going to try to screw me out of Pavel Cerny. They’re going to want to substitute in some woman I’ve never heard of.”
“How do you even know that?”
He blows out a breath. “I checked with the firm about Pavel and Dubai. They gave me a little song and dance about how, even if Pavel wasn’t available—and they reassured me he is—but if he wasn’t, then they are still capable of handling the project, and this woman he’s worked with for years is just as good as Pavel.” A heavy eye roll follows. “I don’t care about her. She’s not Pavel.”
“She could be great.”
“She’s not Pavel—
“I heard you the first time,” I interrupt and open my laptop. “What’s her name?”
“Elsie Braudel.”
Googling her, I find many things. But mostly, I find her social. “Have you bothered to look her up?”
“Why would I? She’s not—
“Yeah, I know. You may want to rethink not working with her, Beau.”
“Why is that?”
“Impressive credentials, for one. For two,” I turn my laptop to face him, “that’s her.”
He huffs a laugh. “You think I’ll change my mind for a pretty face? This is the biggest thing I have ever done in my life, Cormac. I want the best.” But he says all of this while checking out her vacation pic. I don’t blame him—that bikini is scandalous. “You think she’s in Brazil there? It would explain the attire.”
“And the mountains in the beach’s background. I’d say it’s a fair guess.”
He turns it back around. “Pretty or not, it makes no difference to me.”
I fight the urge to call him out on that. He’ll dig his heels in, if I do. “If—
“I take that back. It does make a difference.”
“So, you’ll work with her?”
He laughs. “Before I knew what she looked like, I debated it. But knowing how pretty sure is? Hell no.”
“It’s not like you’re seeing anyone, so why is that a problem?”
“Because girls like her can get jobs like hers without really trying.”
“You think she slept her way to the top?”