Page 46 of Rewrite the Rules

James:Haters. Shot of penicillin cleared that right up.

Jackson:You should not be proud of that.

Me:You guys are the absolute worst.

I huff as my eyes hit the ceiling. Nope. Screw it. “I’m not moving my shit.” I glare at Cody who is laughing wildly.

“Told ya. Keep your bedroom, man, I’ll keep the win,” he guffaws. “So, what are you going to do about Addie?”

“Hell if I know. She was livid when she left last night.”

I’m right back in the doghouse and this time, it’s raining.

sixteen

Joel

Chapter Thirteen: This time there is no stopping. There’s pain in his eyes. He’s forcing my face into the mattress. He lifts my hips as if it’s duty. My soul and my body are separate entities and right now…he only wants one. Yet, still—I’m just as eager. Needy. He’s dominant. Frustrated. Passionate. Relentless. Haunted. I can’t decide if I like it, or love it—

My office door swings open. In surprise I throw Adler’s book in the air. It goes flying across the room as my senior associate, Brett, barges into my office without knocking. He looks at me the same way guys do when you find yourself at a urinal with no privacy dividers.

“Um, sorry—”

“I thought my door was locked.” I rub my face in embarrassment. Brett eyes Adler’s book in the corner of the room.

“No judgment here. I uh—just bought that book for my grandma. She loves it.”Great. Gross.

“What’s up, Brett?”

“Um…so I kind of screwed up—bad.”

Brett proceeds to beg forgiveness after double-booking two of our most important meetings for four o’clock, today. Both parties, which are currently in our tiny office waiting area, are competing for funding so tensions are running high in a very small space. They can either sit on each other’s laps or stand awkwardly in the hallway.

I pull my glasses off and toss them on the desk in frustration. Brett flinches at my every move like he’s waiting for something abusive.

“One minute. Let me think.” I tap my fingers with impatient aggravation against the desk as I mentally sort out the mess. Problems are like Rubik’s Cubes. Move one square at a time and the picture becomes clearer and clearer.

Three days. Three damn days is all it took without Adler for my calendar to fall apart, the office to become dangerously disorganized, and for the entire team to turn into unproductive, hangry grouches.

“I’ve got a plan,” I say confidently. The color instantly returns to Brett’s pale cheeks. “What? Did you think I was going to tear you a new one?”

Brett shrugs sheepishly. “You can. It’s my fault.”

“You want to have a team of your own one day, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then my leadership philosophy might come in handy for you. Good leaders give out wins and always take the blame. At all costs they protect their people. Your team will never be ateamif they feel like shit and are afraid of you. So, shake it off. I’m here to help you, not reprimand you.”

Brett clasps his hands together like he’s praying. “Thank you, boss.”

“You’re welcome. Now—bring the MerTock meeting in here first. Then, take the RightCheck CEO and CRO down to Hughston’s across the street.” I whip out my wallet and hand my corporate card to Brett. “Ask for the back room—the one Adler always reserves. Order the nicest bottle of scotch they carry and the entire appetizer menu. Bullshit for as long as you can. Small talk. Do not talk about our portfolio or funding power. RightCheck is on a need-to-know basis only. They tend to put the cart before the horse. I’ll be there as soon as possible. And, with any luck, they’ll be too scotch-happy to fight the red lines on the contract.”

“Got it! Thank you. You’re the man!” Brett scuttles out of my office to carry out his marching orders.

* * *

After three long hours of schmoozing and boozing and successfully saving our asses, I return to my office from Hughston’s Steakhouse to finish reviewing the dividend reports. I try to be productive but my mind is a blown gasket. It’s firing on zero cylinders.

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