Page 16 of His Bride Bargain
How could I forget that?
“No, Beth. I haven’t. Thank you for reminding me anyway.” She hesitates in the doorway, and I raise an eyebrow at her. “Is there anything else?”
I’ve never seen this woman look so flustered before — and I’m not sure anyone else would notice. Even five months ago, when her job changed from being my father’s PA to mine, Beth was the picture of professionalism, forging ahead and pulling me and the company along with her. Even when I was a mess, she never was.
A lot’s changed since Dad died. I’m pretty sure he took my belief in Fletcher Tech with him.
Beth pushes her shoulders back and sighs, grounding herself. “I want you to promise me my job’s safe. I’m sure that Nicholas is going to advise layoffs, and he’ll be looking for surplus staff to axe.”
I rise to my feet, smiling grimly at her as I round the desk. Carefully, I perch on it and shrug, letting my hands hang limply by my sides. “I swear,” I say. “I couldn’t do this without you, Beth. You’re not surplus and you’re definitely not useless. I need you. The only way Nicholas could persuade me to fire you would be to tell me that the whole company’s going under.”
“And you think he isn’t going to do that?” She folds her arms, clearly heartened by my endorsement, but skeptical about the current situation.
Honestly, she’s probably right. “Not yet. We’re clinging on. Just about. It’s not looking great, but we’re not sunk yet.”
“Yetbeing the operative word.”
“Aren’t you the one always saying to think positive?” I try and crack a smile, even though neither of us are really feeling it, and she throws back her own that looks just as forced as mine.
“Thinking positive and preparing for the future aren’t always compatible,” she says. “No amount of positive thinking is going to save this company.”
“I hope Nicholas has come up with something good. We need profits now, or at least an even break. And if I can do it without losing anyone, even better.”
“But what really are the chances of that?” Beth’s face is not in any way hopeful.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep, steadying breath, trying to fill myself with the vague plastic and paper smell of the office rather than my rising anxiety. The chances are slim. The accounts are absolutely dire.
Turns out, I inherited an enormous problem rather than a successful company. Sure, Fletcher Tech is worth billions, but the way Dad was hemorrhaging money instead of using it in any way that made sense means everything’s spiraling downwards. At least he kept accounts, but they’re full of stuff like fully funded business trips to Korea for three weeks, flying first class, high-end restaurant deliveries every single day for lunch, and random millions in bonuses for himself and others because he felt like it.
Adding in the hit our stocks took when he passed, none of it’s a pretty picture at all.
And Beth knows that as well as I do. We’re on a knife edge and I’m about to get sliced right down the middle and take the whole damn ship down with me.
None of this is my fault, but I’m going to get the blame. I’m the one in charge. I’m the one who’ll have to face the firing squad if this all collapses.
I stand again, hoping I’m not visibly wobbling. “If we lose anyone, it won’t be you. But I’m going to do everything I can to stop all of this falling apart around us.”
Beth’s face has returned to its classic professional neutral, a straight-faced sort of stern that could mean anything. Still, I know her too well and I can see the doubt behind her eyes. “I know, sir. I know.”
She turns and closes the door quietly behind her. I sit for a long moment in silence.
Then a notification beeps on my computer telling me about the meeting I know I’m meant to be in. I let it beep. There’s nothing in the whole world that can cheer me up right now.
But I’m technically the boss. I’mliterallythe boss, God help us. And that means I have to show my face, even when shit is hitting the fan. I hope that Nicholas isn’t going to rip me apart too badly. I hope he has a way out.
Dragging my feet like it’s going to buy me a little more time, I open my door, step out and carefully close it again, then walk down the corridor like I’m about to go to my own execution.
CHAPTER12
CANDICE
Broken Cauldrons hasthegreatest sandwiches I have ever, ever eaten. The fact that I can go out for my lunch every day and drop ten dollars on a sandwich and drink without even feeling guilty about it is one of the most freeing things that has come from owning Mettie Marketplace.
It’s an old nickname from school that I despised back then, but we’ve been building the brand to appeal to go-getting women, so a friendly kind of name felt important. And if other people can slap their names on their products and make billions, so can I.
I swing back into my office to finish my sandwich — a glorious layering of turkey and salad and a house sauce that sparkles on the tongue — but the second I sit down and wake my computer back up, I’m bombarded with a dozen emails and a reminder of a meeting I’m meant to be in in three minutes.
“Shit,” I mumble, my mouth full. I manage to force down most of my sandwich but abandon my chips for a little after-meeting snack, then jump up and hurry down the corridor as quickly as my professional dignity will allow.