Page 42 of Rival Hearts
“Workandplay.”
I shook my head. Clearly,Icouldn’t do that. But it wasn’t just about that. I had a campaign to run. I was here for a reason—the greater good was calling my name. I couldn’t forget what I’d come here to do. It had been years since I’d decided that doing the right thing was more important than giving in to what I wanted. After all, if I just followed what I wanted, it didn’t help anyone. Turning my back on my cause for something I wanted for myself was selfish. That would make me just like my dad, and I hated that idea.
He’d chosen money over doing the right thing. He’d chosen his needs over everything else.
And my mom… she’d been just the same, choosing herself over her family and leaving.
I couldn’t be like them. The world was already such a screwed-up place, and we owed it to ourselves and to future generations to do something about it. Not to focus on carnal wants and needs but on the bigger picture.
Unfortunately, painfully so, choosing Alex, trying to have him in my life, would mean I was focusing on myself, and I refused to be like them. I had to be bigger than that.
Maybe no one else understood it, but if I was the type of person who would give up what was right for the sake of fulfilling my own wants and needs, I would hate who I’d become.
This was the right thing to do. Alex had been a wonderful thing for one night, but that could never happen again. I just had to keep my head straight, keep Alex at arm’s length when I ran into him—which would probably be a few more times during this campaign before it was over—and focus on the bigger picture.
Easy as pie.
Right?
12
ALEX
The office was quiet after everyone left, and I preferred it that way. The sun set slowly, painting the sky in streaks of orange and gold until it gave way to pink, purple, and then the inky blue of the night.
I rubbed my eyes. They were gritty after staring at the screen for so long. I’d spent the whole day drafting reports for my investors to show them that this business with the campaign wasn’t going to cause trouble. Sasha Martinez in particular wasn’t happy. She’d always been a tough sell, and getting her on board had been a pain in the ass.
Maybe I should just have let her go from the start instead of forcing her hand, but that was what business was all about. We could do with her investment, and our company helped her with her investments in luxury travel and hospitality. It was a classic case of one hand washing the other.
Even if this particular investor could be a little prickly.
I looked at her message again.
The email had been drafted professionally, with all the big terms that came with the territory, but there wasn’t any question about what she meant when she’d sent it to me.
Blackwood Inc. had been in the news. It had made us look bad. They were pointing fingers at us now, and Sasha wasn’t going to stay with the company if this cookie crumbled the wrong way.
I read the most important paragraph again.
I want to be clear that if the negative publicity persists and continues to make Blackwood Inc. appear in an unfavorable light, I will have no choice but to reevaluate my investment in the company.
I scrubbed my hands down my face, my stomach a twisted knot of stress.
I reached for my coffee cup; it was empty.
I got up and carried the empty cup out of my office. I passed my secretary’s desk, empty for hours now, and walked to the staff kitchen, where I programmed the machine to make a cup of something strong.
A drink would have been better but I was on the clock right now, and drinking and drafting reports was never a good combo.
Someone came into the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder; it was Ben.
“Hey,” he said. “You’re here late.”
“So are you,” I pointed out.
“These planes don’t sell themselves,” Ben said with a shrug. “Although… that’s not entirely true.” He grinned.
Ben was in charge of the private jets that Blackwood Inc. designed and manufactured. We had our fingers in two very lucrative pies.
