Page 10 of Acquiring Ainsley
But life was full of twists. This certainly counted as one.
Ainsley’s eyes bulged, and her mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
She asked the question loud enough that I suspected everyone who worked at Ross Publishing heard her. Rather, I should say, whostillworked at Ross Publishing. It wasn’t many.
Over the previous few months, Ashton had shrunk the full-time headquarters staff from 150 to less than thirty-five, asking all of them to do more with less. The move hadn’t worked very well and made morale nonexistent. Even I’d felt the drag on enthusiasm when I walked through the halls; this company was full of people who feared they’d be next to lose their jobs. The apprehension served in direct contrast to the company I’d read so much about over the years.
ThatRoss Publishing was supposed to be one of the best companies to work for in the city.
“You heard me correctly.” I kept my voice calm. I’d suspected Ainsley wouldn’t like this request, so I’d come to the meeting with plenty of documents, justifications, and arguments. “In exchange for taking on this company’s enormous debt, I want to marry you. In the fall, perhaps in November. Here. In New York City.”
At some point during my answer to her question, the color had drained from Ainsley’s face.
“This isn’t the worst idea in the world,” I said. “It’s only marriage.”
A business transaction, not unlike the hundreds I made every week.
“Only marriage?Only marriage?” She turned to her brother. “He’s joking, right? You aren’t seriously asking me to do this. This isn’t an option, so come up with something better.”
Ashton shrugged. “I don’t think we can. This is our best chance to save what our father created.”
The son of my one-time mentor had transformed from an arrogant, entitled snob into a sniveling, spineless caricature of himself. And what a shame. George Ross wouldn’t have liked that at all.
“As you said, I’ll never be fully accepted into New York and Palm Beach high society on my own.” My neck grew warm, and I pulled at the collar of my shirt. “A guy from the wrong zip code can’t get there from here, right?”
“Unspoken rules are the worst ones,” Ainsley replied. “You think you’re playing the same game as everyone else, and you aren’t.”
“There’s a history of bad blood between us. I understand that. I know this is not ideal, but neither is this company’s impending bankruptcy. Everything that your father built will soon collapse.” I gestured at the large windows behind me, and the skyline they framed. “Right now, the rest of the world doesn’t know what kind of trouble George Ross’s beloved company is in, and I’m sure that you don’t want them to find out.”
Neither Ashton nor Ainsley replied. I took that as a sign that I might be getting somewhere. I could work with that.
“So, what do you think?” I directed my question at Ainsley, then slid my gaze across her pouting lips and down her slim neck. Damn. I still wanted her. Maybe I always had. I cleared my throat, so she wouldn’t see the kind of response she had triggered in me. “As I said, it’s only a marriage. Nothing more.”
She stared at me for a few breaths, and while she did, I took the opportunity to further notice how much she’d changed since the last time that I saw her, at a charity cocktail party for the Whitney Museum two years before.
Living full-time in Palm Beach had been kind to Ainsley. Her blonde hair was longer, with streaks of platinum highlights, and she’d gained a few pounds to make her hard edges just a little softer. She also had a light spray of freckles across her nose, and her green eyes glittered brighter than I remembered. The passing of time had only made this ice princess hotter.
Not that I could afford to gawk at her beauty. Not this time. I stiffened my posture. She might be gorgeous, but this was business. Strictly business. I didn’t want to mix it with pleasure.
But maybe in the future…
“I appreciate yourkindoffer,” she said finally, venom coating every word. “But I won’t do it. I won’t marry you, Trevor McNamara, no matter how much leverage you think this situation gives you.”
With that, Ainsley stood from her chair and stormed out of the conference room, unceremoniously ending the meeting. Ashton gaped at her for a nanosecond, then cried out for her to stop. When she didn’t, he raced behind her, out the door, leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts, the large stack of paperwork, and the bar at the far end of the room.
After a few minutes of thinking about the past, I got up from the conference table and fixed myself a bourbon. Just like my father, George Ross had always loved good liquor, and the selection didn’t disappoint. I poured about two shots worth into a heavy glass, added some ice cubes from the accompanying silver bucket, and walked the bourbon over to the large windows. As I sipped, I studied the city and counted all the buildings I could see that I owned.
Five. A good start in a city with hundreds of buildings on which to brand my name. And soon enough, I’d own this one.
Not bad, Trevor, not bad at all.
Acquiring Ross Publishing would be the crown jewel of my empire, the brightest diamond in an array of prime real estate and holdings that spanned three states and almost a billion dollars in gross assets. Once I added this company and turned it profitable, I’d be within sight of becoming a billionaire before age forty.
I could get used to that distinction very quickly. Even for all his efforts, my dad had never made that exclusive list.
Besides, this city was full of less successful stories. I knew I should be thankful that opportunity and fortune had tossed me a few bones. But it had been a hollow ride. Why? I tossed back the remainder of the bourbon, frowned, and rubbed at the back of my neck, while the burn of the liquor settled in my stomach like a rock. I’d thought unparalleled success would feel better than it did, and yet an emptiness as vast as the city before me plagued my soul and gnawed at my innards.
Success had made me lonely. Very lonely. It hadn’t been something that I wanted to admit, but since reaching my late thirties it had become obvious. I might have access to all the material things I could ever want, but that didn’t take away the sting of having no one to share any of it.
