Page 94 of A Ticking Time Boss

Cecilia grins. “Oh, the absolute best. You’re more than welcome to come too, Audrey.”

“Thank you, that’s really kind,” I say, and I mean it. The flow of conversation is fun to listen to, and only occasionally terrifying, as when Summer and Anthony mention their Montauk beach house. I can’t imagine the dizzying wealth some of these people have. Not to mention that Acture Capital, the owners of the newspaper I work at and arbiter of its fate, are all seated around the same dinner table. With me.

It’s heady stuff. It makes me feel like an investigative reporter, and at the same time, an insider. I’ll never use what I hear here, but… wow. Pinch me.

After dinner, I join Freddie in the kitchen as she pours herself a glass of sparkling water. The men have moved back into the living room. “So,” she says. “You’re not too overwhelmed?”

I chuckle. “A little, perhaps, but in a good way.”

“I remember the feeling,” she says, leaning against the counter. “Although when Tristan and I first started dating, the others were all single.”

“Acture was a bachelor’s club?”

She laughs. “Gosh, yes. I’m glad that’s changed.”

“Have you joined the team now?” I ask. She gives off the impression of a woman with ambition, and from what I overheard at the dinner table, she’s working with Tristan now on Acture’s latest acquisition.

Freddie gives a half-shake of her head. “In a way, I suppose. I was always interested in business strategy, and I spent the past two years at Exciteur—that’s the company Victor’s the CEO of, now—working on Strategy. Now I’m a consultant, really, for Acture. Tristan and I work well together.”

“That’s impressive,” I say. “Working with your husband?”

She smiles crookedly. “Some days it’s the best decision I’ve ever made, and others we both consider it a grave error. But overall… yes, it’s been great. Wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Summer and Cecilia join us, then, and the kitchen island shrinks. “Talking business?” Summer asks. “Please tell me you weren’t. The guys are, too, and I’ve already told them off twice.”

Freddie laughs. I twist my wineglass around in my hand, smiling at the other women. “That must be a common thing when you all meet?”

“It’s constant,” Cecilia says. “Sometimes I wonder if I married an Excel spreadsheet or a man.”

We all laugh at that. Summer reaches for a lime from the fruit bowl and searches through a drawer for a knife. “Time for more drinks,” she declares. “Audrey, what do you do?”

“I’m a journalist, actually.”

“Wow. Really?”

“Yeah.”

Freddie’s intelligent eyes meet mine. “What a coincidence,” she says, “considering Carter’s current project within Acture.”

I laugh weakly and look down at my hands. “Yeah. It’s funny.”

“Do you guys talk shop?”

“Sometimes we do, yes. I’m a big believer in traditional print media, in local journalism. The value it has for our cities and our country.”

She nods thoughtfully. “I agree with you on that, actually. I also think owning a newspaper long-term is a great move for Acture.”

A surprise ally! But before I can ask her why that is, Cecilia ushers us all back to the living room to, as she so lovingly puts it, halt the men’s workaholic tendencies. When they come within earshot, she looks over her shoulder at us with a meaningful expression. Listen to them, it says.

Snippets reach me too. “… the latest numbers were better, but still abysmal.”

“It’s turning a profit,” Carter says. “Slim, perhaps, but still.”

My feet slow on the hardwood floor. They’re discussing the Globe.

“Slim isn’t good enough,” Victor says. “Not long term. Traditional print media is an opportunity, sure, but also a huge liability.”

Anthony now. “Only two months left before the second quarter check-in. I’m still voting for selling it if the numbers aren’t better.”

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