Page 53 of Savage Ruin
I move to sit in my seat. “Well, it was nice seeing you, David. Good luck with everything.”
He jerks forward with his arm outstretched. “Here’s my card. Call me sometime. I’d love to catch up,” he states with a grin. He gives Thiago a side glance. “Nice meeting you.”
Thiago stares at me while he eats.
“What?” I ask, bewildered by the expression on his face.
“How long has it been since you’ve seen David?”
I think back. “Sophomore year at MIT. He and I dated, but he broke it off when he heard some rumors about me. They weren’t true, but he believed them. Why?”
He leans back in his chair. “In all the years you’ve been running, have you ever seen someone from your past?”
“No, not really. Or if I had, I didn’t recognize them or they me. What’s going on in your head, Thiago?” I question him, putting down my fork. He’s starting to make me nervous.
“I don’t believe in coincidences, and there’s something off about David. I’m going to have Sterling investigate him,” he informs me picking up his phone.
I frown and think about it, but I can’t see this being anything but a coincidence. An unpleasant one, but still, just a random thing.
Thiago snatches up David’s card and takes a picture before handing it back to me. “My gut is rarely wrong, Henley.”
I give him an incredulous look. “Really? It was wrong about me, wasn’t it?”
His mouth compresses. “You’re an extremely rare exception. A onetime thing, I assure you. My gut is right ninety-nine percent of the time. Just ask Mateo or Grayson.”
“If you say so,” I retort.
My stalker slips into my mind, and I compare David’s height to Stanley’s. It’s not even close. David might be six feet, if he stretches. Damn it. Now this is bugging me, too. I slip his card into my purse. Maybe I’ll do some of my own digging.
CHAPTER26
HENLEY
Epic sent a courier early this morning with an invitation to have brunch with Beau Whitman at his house. Thiago accepted, and we’re headed over there now. We pull up to the gate, and it immediately swings open. Thiago squints at the metal box by the gate and shakes his head. I’m guessing he finds Beau’s security system lacking.
When we reach the end of the driveway, a large rambling ranch house with a façade of stone and wood waits for us. Thomas assists me out, then gets back in. They decided it would be best if they returned for us later.
An older gentleman in a suit stands by the front door. “Good morning, Mr. Santos, Ms. Night. I’m Carmichael. If you’ll follow me, Mr. Whitman is on the back patio.”
Carmichael leads us through the house. I’m surprised to see it’s a home, not a cold mansion like I expected. Wooden beams cross the ceilings, the floors alternate between a rough wide-plank wood and terracotta tile. The big furnishings are high end, but extremely comfortable-looking. We walk through large wood-framed French doors onto an extensive stone patio.
Beau Whitman is reading some documents when we find him. He hands them off to the man beside him and stands. “Welcome to my home.”
After shaking hands, he shows us to the buffet that’s set out along one wall. It includes a variety of food from breakfast to lunch, and I can’t resist filling my plate with all the deliciousness.
Thiago sticks to his usual healthy selections of wheat toast, egg whites, fruit, and coffee. Surprisingly, Beau loads up his plate like me.
“I thought it would be better if we had a more relaxed atmosphere to talk about our potential deal,” Beau explains after taking a few bites. “The boardroom has its uses, but given yesterday’s meeting, this might be more conducive.”
I snort. “It’s certainly friendlier,” I remark lightly. “And I’m usually happier when someone’s feeding me.”
Beau’s mouth quirks. “Good. I’ve run the numbers, and given the volume of production we need to start with in order to fulfill your requirement of one million units in six months, while still hitting our revenue targets during the same time frame, I propose twenty-two percent profit for the first three years.”
Thiago puts his fork down and reaches for his coffee. “Why don’t we mix it up? Twenty percent profit for the first year, thirty the remaining two years. Unlike most products, you don’t have research and development costs to recoup. Once the initial production investment is zeroed out, the rest is profit. Plus, you’ll have the foundation for future enhancements.”
Beau punches in some numbers on his phone. “The numbers work for me. Done. I’ll have my lawyers draw up the papers this afternoon and send it over. We will not be including a contingency clause to void the contract based on your product release. If it is what we think it is, we’ll reap a huge benefit from the exposure.”
I narrow my eyes. “What have you heard?”
