Page 21 of The Merger
“I’m not grumpy. I’m focused.”
I narrow my eyes, trying to determine whether he’s serious about the five-minute thing. There’s no way to be sure. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t put it past him. So I take a sip of my coffee, beg the caffeine to hit fast and hard, and pull a folder from my bag.
My breath shakes as I start to speak. I practiced my speech late into the night and during the morning drive. I know what I want to say by heart. I have facts, statistics, and fun anecdotes to share with Gannon. But sitting here now beneath his gaze, none of it feels right.
He takes pity on me, but not without a scowl.
“Your company, which consists solely of you, would come into our facilities a day or two a week and resurrect our plants. Is that correct?” he asks.
“Yes.Resurrect. I see you’ve done your homework and looked around your office.”
“Or I just pulled up your website and read your services page.”
Oh.
“I never go into a meeting unprepared, Miss Johnson.”
I lift my chin. “Neither do I, Mr. Brewer.” I pull a sheet of paper from my folder and slide it across the table to him. “This is a proposal of what I think you need and a price list. You’ll see I’ve given you a very deep discount, as promised.”
Gannon picks up the paper and inspects it like it’s a million-dollar deal.
“Since you’ve been on my website,” I say, “I hope you reviewed the testimonials. I’m thorough, careful, and professional. I pride myself on being on time. Many of my clients are wealthy, and they trust me to come into their homes and?—”
“It’s possible to talk too much in contract negotiations.” He gazes at me over the paper.
He sets the proposal down slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
The intensity of the connection between us makes me shift in my seat. I’m not sure what to make of it. Whatever he’s thinking is locked tightly behind his dark eyes, and I couldn’t access it if I tried.
“Are you ready to order?” Joseph asks, making me jump.
Gannon watches me expectantly.
My time is up if he’s serious about giving me only a few minutes. Because he’s so hard to read—so overwhelming in every way—I don’t know what to do. And that frustrates the hell out of me.
“Thank you, Joseph,” I say. “But I think my meeting with Mr. Brewer is finished.”
Gannon rolls his eyes. “Do you like salmon?”
“What?”
“Salmon,” he says. “Do you like it?”
“I love it. Why?”
He turns to Joseph. “Two potato and egg fritters with smoked salmon, please. Double crème fraiche.”
“Coming right up, sir,” Joseph says before turning away.
“You look hungry,” Gannon says, unfolding his napkin onto his lap. “Don’t overthink it.”
“You obviously don’t know me. I overthink everything.”
He takes a quick sip of his coffee. “Why should I hire you? Why do you want to work at Brewer Group so badly that you harass me via text outside of business hours?”
“Harass you? I sent you one text.”
“You’re not answering my question.”
