Page 22 of The CEO Enemy

I fix her with a firm stare. “Don’t turn your nose down at a payout so quickly,” I advise. “There’s a lot you can do with money. You’ve done a good job turning this place around. I’m sure there are other hotels that could benefit from your skills.”

“I’m aware of that,” she says. “And this has nothing to do with money. It isn’t the issue. I love this job. I love the work I do and what I’ve done to get Westerlyn to this point.” Her full tits rise and fall beneath her blouse as she glares at me. “Why would I want to buy another hotel and start from the ground up again? I’ve already done that, and now I’m ready to spend my time and energy making this place even greater than it already is. I don’t want to sell.”

She seems more determined than some of the others I’ve done business with, I’ll give her that. But the board has a strict policy when dealing with co-owners. There’s simply no way they’ll let this slide. I know them and my father too well. Blackwood working with a private owner like this? Never in a million years. It’s not how it’s done, especially not for the long term.

“Everyone says it’s not about money,” I start, “until they actually see the zeros on the check.”

Her expression says, “Go fuck yourself.”

Keeping a straight face, I reach across the table and pluck the pen and pad of paper sitting in the center. I tear off a piece and swiftly jot down my offer, where each zero packs a bigger punch when lined up on the page. Ultimately, it matches the same generous sum we extended to Norman. “This is what we’re willing to give. Take your time, think about it before you?—”

She doesn’t even look at the paper, instead clutches her arms in front of her breasts. “No deal.”

“Don’t allow emotion and sentiment to cloud your judgment. Let’s approach this logically, if only briefly.” Challenging a woman’s logic can be a risky move, but hey, we’re dealing with reality here.

She arches an angry-looking brow. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you’re throwing away a golden opportunity you’re going to regret someday.”

“I can assure you—today’s interaction is not the one I’m regretting right now.”

And there it is.

She’s the first to allude to what happened last night.

“This has nothing to do with our personal lives,” I say, not taking the bait. “We’re both adults. I don’t see why we can’t act like it.”

She huffs, and I can tell she wants to respond. Instead, she stares for a few seconds, takes a deep breath, then says, “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested in selling, and that’s final. Now, if you’re done trying to buy my hotel out from under me, can we talk about this transitional phase and what it’ll mean for my staff?”

The switch nearly gives me whiplash.

I narrow my eyes and study her carefully, trying to figure out what angle she’s playing. For once, I’m having a hard time getting a read on her. She’s tough as nails.

I’m man enough to know when to back off.

This negotiation isn’t over, not by a longshot. There’s a time to play hardball and a time to wait. I get the sense that pushing any further is only going to make her shut down completely.

What I wrote down may be the first offer, but it doesn’t have to be the last. I have a feeling we’re going to do this dance for a while.

It doesn’t matter. She’ll wind up selling to me just like they all do.

“We won’t be rushing into any changes,” I clarify. “Initially, we’ll maintain business as usual. Given the current tension and the adjustment to a new co-owner, it’s crucial to ease into things. I plan to observe each department closely to understand their operations better. Once I have a clear picture, I’ll create a detailed schedule for implementing the Blackwood standards step by step.”

Typically, one of my managers oversees the adaptation phase.

This one, I’ll handle myself.

I rise from my chair, adjusting my suit jacket. Her eyes wander for a moment, and though it’s brief, I’m still able to clock her checking me out. At least her attraction to me doesn’t seem to have been faked.

“Shall we start the tour now?” I ask, motioning for her to stand and join me. “The sooner I see how things are run, the quicker I’ll be out of your hair. At least for today.”

“And how often will you be gracing us with your presence?” She rises from her seat, giving me a view of those long legs, and we exit the room together.

“Almost every day for the foreseeable future. Blackwood isn’t a large corporate shell. I’m not here to assume managerial responsibilities, but our aim is to make decisions that facilitate a seamless transition under Blackwood’s wing. We prefer a hands-on approach when it comes to our investments.”

“As long as you keep those same hands to yourself, we won’t have a problem.”

Inwardly, I chuckle. That’s rich, considering she was the one to come onto me last night. “Likewise,” I say. “But this isn’t the time nor the place to talk about that.”

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