Page 31 of Lead Me Knot

“It’s okay if you’re not up for it.”

He goes low, knowing I can’t resist a challenge. “Motherfuck.” Rolling my eyes, I don’t know why I’d ever agree to this other than it would be the easiest bet to ever win. Especially since I’ve already won. “Fine. What are the terms?”

CHAPTER 11

Baylor

“I didn’t expectto see you in today, Greene.” I turn away from my Manhattan view to see my boss walking into my office. Robert Goodman, current president of Taylor and Goodman, checks his gold Rolex. “And before two o’clock. No wasting time for you.”

He used to impress me when I was in my twenties, trying to climb my way to the executive floor. Now, I see how he flaunts his past achievements boldly on his wrist with no effort to do what made him rich. He just wants us to make him money. Maybe that can be said for the entirety of the corporate world. “No wasting time,” I reply, moving around my desk and sitting.

“Good trip?”

Images of Lauralee naked under me come to mind. The way her eyes clenched closed and her mouth opened wide when she came has run through my head a few times since I left. So has her agreeing for me to go. I know it was the right thing to do, but I’m ready for it to feel like it was. Becauseright or wrong, it still feels like a mistake. I sigh. “Yeah, but it’s good to be back.” Not a complete lie. Time and distance from what happened this weekend isn’t a bad thing for either of us.

He taps my desk. “How’s the week look?”

“Two new client meetings and four current clients for their yearly updates. I’ll be going over the progress, profits, and projections for the third and fourth quarters.”

“I’m sure you can get a few more appointments scheduled.” Taking a seat in front of me, he leans back and rests his ankle on his other knee. “What are the asset valuations for the new clients, at least?”

For quick reference, I flip a page in my notepad and scan down toward the bottom. “One is valued at seven-hundred and forty-nine million, and the other is at twenty-three million.”

“That sounds like potential.” He grins and glances out the window. “You earned this view.” When he turns back to me, he says, “I want you to start thinking more long-term with the company.”

“I’ve thought long-term since the day I was hired, Bob.”

Slapping his leg, he sits forward. “And that’s why you’re sitting on the thirty-second floor with the executives.” He stands. “Good work, Baylor.” With a snap of his fingers, he grins. “The summer company party is at my house in the Hamptons this year over the Fourth of July. We’re doing the big fireworks display and cookout thing. A room is reserved for you and a guest. I’m hoping someone significant to mingle with my wife and keep her occupied while the boys smoke cigars.”

When he says “significant,” I get the unsubtle hint.Don’t bring a fling or a one-night thing as my overnight date.The only thing is, I don’t have someone significant in my life.

“Or you can come alone, but we prefer these events to be family-focused if you get my drift.” Other than him just saying he’s trying to pawn his wife off on other guests to distract her from what he’s doing, he can’t be clearer than that.

“Understood.”

“That’s good.”

As he heads for the door, he adds, “And let’s try to be in the office before lunch next time. It looks bad to the other employees to see you coming in late.”

It’s tempting to tell him to fuck off since I left the Pass at three o’clock this morning to make sure I was on the first flight out of Austin, but I like my job and this view quite a bit, so instead, I reply, “Yes, sir.”

He points back at me. “You’re going places, kid.” When he leaves, I continue staring at the empty doorway, unsure what to think about the interaction. He’s right. I worked hard to earn this office and every client I serve. I’ve made my clients millions, and I’m closing in on the one billion mark for career win investments.

But I’m not a kid. That he sees me as a cub among the tigers still trying to earn my stripes is a problem. Eighty-hour weeks isn’t enough? Has donating most of my weekends gone unnoticed? All the overnights before a big pitch pointless?

Why the fuck am I doing all this if I’m not getting noticed?

A head pops around the corner, and my assistant makes his way in. “I waited until the coast was clear,” Mickey says, crossing the office.

“Clear from Bob? He’s generally harmless unless you lose a client’s money or, worse, him.” Though he’s certainly on my shitlist. I leave thattidbit out.

In his mid-twenties and barely out of grad school, Mickey doesn’t need to be burdened with the reality of working in finance. Yet. He’ll learn it on his own soon enough. He sits in the chair that Bob abandoned. “He still insists on calling me Michael because he said Mickey is unprofessional.”

“What does he know? So many greats in history are named Mickey. Mickey Mantle. A power switch hitter, the Baseball Hall of Fame, World Series record holder. Damn, he was even a Triple Crown winner.” Kicking back, I lodge my feet on top of my desk and lean back with my hands behind my head. “And then there’s Mickey Mouse. Look how his career blew up in a major way. Can you imagine if he had been called David or Mark the Mouse? It wouldn’t have worked. Mickey was the only way to go.”

“Not sure that one’s going to convince him.” He chuckles, then tugs at the knot of his tie to straighten it. “He’s stuck on Michael, but the thing is, my name isn’t Michael. It’s actually Mickey.”

“I can’t say much. I was named after the university my parents attended. Go figure.”

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