Page 90 of After Hours

“Is it important if Ronan knows?”

“Yes, actually.” He jumped. “How am I the last to know, and I’m the attorney? What happened to being friends?”

God, this was so dramatic, but somehow I expected this behavior from everyone except Arnoldo. “Arnoldo.” My voice raised. “You can bitch later. Do what I ask.”

“Got it. Anything else?”

I had one more thing I needed, and whenever it was done, I’d handle it myself. “I need the whereabouts and a file on Michael Willis. He’s her father. Get me that as soon as you can. Relate the message to your legal team.”

I finished up my conversation with them and walked back over to my seat. This was the only way I knew to protect her. I needed her safe and protected at all times. It doesn’t matter who or what else got hurt, as long as it wasn’t her.

At times I felt like I was losing the control I’ve tried so fucking hard to keep all these years, but in retrospect, everything looked to be happening for a reason.

“Sir,” Mellissa said as she walked in looking all chirpy. She was a morning person like myself. A well-respected one. “You have the call with Bahrain Communications now. Send it through?” I advised her to send it through, and I drank some water while I waited for the connections to happen. Bahrain communications may be a small entity, but they were one of the smartest. Their vast technology, the staff, and even down to their programming had me mesmerized. It wasn’t anything like the one we had here in NYC, but it was a really good system.

Mr. Shanfani, the CEO, wanted us to enter a twelve-month contract whereas we both gained profit and capitalized on our staff. The ones here would swap with the ones there for a six-month period, and then we’d have rotations. I sent the file to Reyes for him to proofread and make any adjustments he saw fit.

Melissa nodded at me through the glass, and I picked the phone up. “Good morning, Mr. Shanfani.”

“Mr. Xander, the world’s busiest guy, what’s going on?”

Rule number one of business: Do not buy the whole nice act from anyone. They’re all vultures.

I was well aware that my grand-father cheated him out of twenty-seven million dollars just a few years ago, and I know that vengeance was always on the table with these types of men— they never let anything go.

But good God, Neil Xander. He ruined, he destroyed, and he was a fucking shit businessman, but he was the best grand- father ever.

We began by discussing the contract that was executed some time ago and how my team and I believed it required a revision, as I was set to receive a rather minimal payout. He explained to me that it was an oversight, and as a result, we finalized the agreement, leaving me feeling victorious.

The rest of the Tuesday was just press conferences and sending emails to our various stock brokers. HR has been slacking off lately. I wouldn’t have a problem if the circumstances were different, but it was costing me clients, and that was something I didn’t find amusing.

“Reyes,” I said smoothly as I answered my phone.

“Get to the press room now. We’re running a business, not a shit show.” He was clearly still mad about being left out of the loop.

“Arnoldo, I’m on my way— give me a few minutes.”

“If you’re going to use the time to kiss your girlfriend, it can wait. You have important things to do.”

“Make no mistake, Arnoldo. Talk your shit on everything else, but leave her name alone. It’s no one’s fault you’re stuck fucking way through the 50 states in America.”

The line fell silent for a while until I cut the call and went to the press conference, which was boring, so much so that I stayed for thirty minutes and then went back to my office.

Moments later, I heard a conversation coming from her office.

“Hey Azzaria,” I heard Mellissa say as she approached the door, “is he busy?”

“Why?”

“He messaged me because we need to speak logistics. I was at lunch, so I came after. Can I go in?”

“Let me go che—”

“Mellissa, you can come in. I’m free,” I said when I walked over to the door. She entered the office, and I went to Azzaria.

Whispering in her ear, I said, “It won’t take long. I’ll see you after.” She smiled and walked over to her seat.

“Let’s talk about Operation 12.” Operation 12. I haven’t heard that file name in years. I thought she left after our brief encounter at the baby shower but I stand corrected, Camilla’s back long term.

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