Page 78 of My Big, Fat, Hot Billionaire Enemy
“Lucy, your projections for the tech integration savings are… optimistic, wouldn’t you say?” he asks smoothly, flipping through his papers. “Given the company’s current infrastructure limitations and the significant retraining required?”
“The projections are based on detailed analysis provided by Blackwell Innovations’ tech team, Morgan,” Lucy replies evenly. “And the proposal includes a budget for necessary upgrades and training.”
“Of course, of course,” Weiss waves a dismissive hand. “But relying so heavily on external projections… and entrusting implementation to current management, given recent performance issues…” He lets the implication hang there, poisoning the air. Undermining Lucy’s credibility without directly attacking her.
Slippery fuck.
Another board member picks up the thread. “Morgan raises a valid point, Lucy. Is the current team truly equipped to handle such a rapid, complex integration alongside the necessary operational restructuring?”
Before Lucy can defend herself, before the doubt can take root, I find myself speaking. My voice cuts through the room, cool andmeasured.
“Perhaps I can offer some perspective,” I say, addressing the board but implicitly supporting Lucy. “Blackwell Innovations has overseen numerous complex tech integrations across various industries. The projections provided are conservative, based on proven metrics. And,” I pause, letting my gaze sweep the table before landing briefly on Lucy, “my confidence in this partnership hinges significantly on Ms. Hammond’s leadership throughout the integration process. Her understanding of both Hammond’s operational realities and the strategic necessity of modernization is precisely what makes this plan viable.”
Silence. My intervention is unexpected. Unorthodox for a potential investor observing a meeting. It’s a clear signal. I’m backing Lucy. Not just the deal.Her.
Weiss looks momentarily stunned, his smug mask flickering. Richard Hammond looks surprised, then gives me a grudgingly appreciative nod. Lucy… her expression remains professional, but I see the faintest blush rise on her cheeks, a flicker of surprise, maybe relief, in her eyes before she quickly looks down at her notes. Or maybe she’s pissed that I’m stealing this moment away from her.
Fuck. I hope that’s not how she feels. I didn’t intend that at all.
Still, the dynamic in the room shifts. It’s subtle, yes, but the shift is there. My public, albeit measured, endorsement carries weight. There are no more undermining questions. The discussion moves back to the practicalities of the proposal.
After the meeting adjourns, I linger deliberately, allowing the other board members to file out. Weissavoids my eye, making a hasty exit. Richard Hammond approaches me.
“Blackwell,” he says, his voice gruff but less hostile than before. “That was… appreciated. Your support for Lucy.”
“Lucy Hammond is a competent executive,” I reply neutrally. “Her leadership is essential for Project Nightingale’s success. Stating facts isn’t support, it’s sound business assessment.”
Bullshit. It was absolutely support.
He studies me for a moment, then nods slowly. “Perhaps. Well. Thank you.”
“I only hope you don’t think I stepped too far,” I continue. “I know I was only here to observe. If I overstepped, now is the time to tell me. It wasn’t my intention to undermine you or Lucy.”
He shakes his head in seeming disbelief. “You didn’t undermine me or Lucy at all.”
Oh.
Damn it.
Why am I second guessing myself? Ineversecond guess myself.
But I know why.
Her.
“Thank you, again.” Richard walks away, leaving me alone in the suddenly empty boardroom.
Standing there, surrounded by the ghosts of Hammond history, I reflect on what just happened. Defending Lucy. Publicly aligning myself with her against the subtle attacks of my father’s pawn. It felt… natural. Instinctive. Not a calculated strategic move, but a genuine reaction.
Protectiveness. That’s what it was. A fierce, unexpected protectiveness towards thewoman who is supposed to be my target, my adversary, my temporary entanglement.
And then of course, the second-guessing that came afterward. Worried I’d overstepped my bounds. A worry I’ve never had before, in business.
This is getting dangerous. My business philosophy is shifting. My emotional defenses are compromised. My relationship with my father is heading towards open warfare.
All because of one person.
Lucy Hammond.
