Page 30 of A Temporary Forever

“Not to piss him off right at the gate,” Xander snarls.

“I trust him. We don’t need an NDA.” Corm leans back in the leather chair across from me.

“Me too,” Xander chimes in, popping a strawberry into his mouth and looking at Declan.

Declan glowers at me and then shakes his head yet again—because, I agree, this meeting went to shit before it started. “Okay, let him steal our ideas.”

“Merged will focus on streamlining mergers and acquisitions to ensure that both parties not only achieve financial success but also maintain or enhance their operational effectiveness post-merger,” Corm starts.

“So like any other M&A firm.” I take another sip of the coffee, which is probably a very particular blend of robusta and arabica because it’s reallysmooth on my tongue. At least something about this visit scores.

“Yes, and no. With our combined experience and connections, we have an advantage of selecting the right opportunities,” Declan says. “It’s about the right people steering the ship. Besides, we’ll have our own venture capital arm to foster startups that can be later merged with established firms.” He goes on to describe the type of businesses they’ve already scouted and pre-approved.

The more he talks, the more I’m drawn in. This would be the exact kind of challenge I’d enjoy—take something new or nonfunctional and groom it to its full potential, but never stay bogged down by the day-to-day once the transformation is over.

I wish Corm hadn’t extended his trust. Fuck, his involvement curbs my excitement. Declan talks about high-level financial projections, and I can see how they might need more capital. But I can also see the returns would be more than healthy.

“You may wonder where you’d fit in.” Corm pins me with his challenging gaze.

“I’m not wondering anything. I don’t sleep with the enemy.”

Unfortunately, a particular enemy with emerald eyes comes to my mind, and I might need to adjust inmy seat, but fidgeting is not the way to conduct negotiations. I’m not showing Corm any discomfort.

Corm sighs. “In case you were wondering… I’m the CEO of Merged. Xander is the Chief Strategy Officer. He focuses on scouting opportunities. Declan, the financial wiz, is our CFO. What we’re missing is someone to run the operation, to focus on the integration of the companies. Someone who can do what you’ve done with Linden hotels.”

I’m not going to lie, it’s flattering that someone noticed my contribution to what is generally perceived as Finn’s company. I can’t deny that this opportunity is intriguing.

“How much is your stake?” I turn to Corm. There are more questions I want to ask, but I’m not giving them the satisfaction of assuming they won this round.

“For now, I have sixty percent, Xander and Declan have twenty each. You would buy in and get twenty percent from me.”

I snort. “Well, gentlemen,”—I put the coffee mug down—“and Cormac, thank you for the breakfast. I wish you all the best in your endeavors.”

I stand up and walk away, shutting the door behind me. Taking my time to return to the elevator banks, I try to soak up the atmosphere in this yet nonexistent firm. Fuck, I wish the leaders were different.

After getting downstairs, I grab a coffeein the corner shop in the lobby. Yeah, I need all the help I can get to shake off the lost sleep.

Pulling out my phone, I dial my sister.

“Hey, Cal, how are you?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t trick me into visiting Celeste and blindsiding us both,” I growl.

“Did it work?” She’s too chipper for my current mood.

“That remains to be seen. But I’m not calling about your annoying friend.”

By now, I’m well aware that the only annoying thing about my black swan is that she isn’t mine. A fact I’ll ignore for the foreseeable future.

Just because I want something doesn’t mean I should have it. Fried food, sex in the middle of Times Square, Celeste Delacroix.

“What do you need?”

“What’s the story between you and Cormac Quinn? What happened all those years ago?”

My question is met with silence. I exit the coffee shop and stop in the lobby at the glass wall overlooking the street.

Saar doesn’t speak, and I almost regret asking her. What’s the point in stirring up painful memories?

---