Page 20 of Bossy Trouble

Georgia took her seat silently, then crossed her hands over her chest and gave me a look of contempt.

“You’re an asshole,” she said simply.

“Yes.” It was a universally known fact.

She nodded as if gratified by my admission. “Well played.”

“Thank you.” There was that uncomfortable feeling again, but this time it was a little closer to my chest, where my heart was supposed to be. “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t do it to mess with you.”

She cocked her eyebrow disbelievingly.

“I’m serious,” I said, and for the first time in my life, I actually wanted to explain myself to someone. I wanted her to understand why I had done what I did.

But somehow, I didn’t think she was in the mood to hear it.

“I don’t believe you, and to be honest, I don’t really care why you did it,” she said with ease. “I just want my company back. What do you want for it?”

I cocked my head, eyeing her. She was far too calm for this. “I can’t give you the company back, Georgie.”

There it was. Finally, her eyes flashed with some heat. For a split second, pure unadulterated anger crept into her face, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the nickname or the statement.

“It’s my company,” she said, and it was like it took her a lot of effort not to scream. “Why on earth are you holding it hostage?”

“I’m not,” I told her. “Look, I can’t give you the company back because if I do, you’ll end up back in the same position as you are now in two years. I guarantee it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the way you run things, the way you treat your employees, and your business chops. All those things are lacking. The fact that your business failed is a direct reflection of your inability to reign things in when you need to.” It was something I wished someone had told my father.

“What kind of bullshit is that?” She exploded with a fit of anger that finally refused to be suppressed. “I built that company from the ground up!”

“Yes. And while that's nice and all, you don’t have the experience needed to take the company to the next level. I do.”

Her eyes went wide with a disbelieving rage. She opened her mouth, and I expected her to start yelling immediately. I could tell everything I just said triggered her. Maybe she might even reach across the table, grab the vase in the corner, and punt it at my head.

But she didn’t do that.

Instead, her mouth snapped shut, and she leaned back in her seat and took a deep breath. It took a second for her to speak.

“So, teach me.”

I thought I heard wrong. “Come again?”

She shrugged, and her expression once more disappeared into a semblance of calm. “Teach me. You say I don’t have what it takes, and you do, so you can show me what it takes then. Impart your wisdom on me, oh great Donovan Dresden. And after which, you can give me back my company and disappear from my life forever. “

“It’s not as easy as it sounds.”

“Yes, it is,” she continued. “Look, you don’t need Moniche. You have a portfolio of other businesses just like it, and you don’t even like fashion. You may not think I have what it takes to run things, but I know that company like the back of my hand. I know what my clients want, I know how my employees work, and I know what the manufacturers do. You need my cooperation to keep things running smoothly.”

She was right. I’d thought of eventually approaching her with the idea of her continuing as an operations manager for Moniche (after she got over the initial shock, that is), but I didn’t think she’d agree. Not at first, anyway. And I certainly didn’t think she’d make the offer herself.

It would take too much time and effort to find someone to replace her.

“So,” she said. “In addition to helping you run Moniche, I can work under you as a personal assistant, and you can teach me what you know. And then, eventually, I can buy Moniche back from you.”

“How?”

She shrugged. “That’s not your problem. All you need to know is that I will offer you the exact amount you got it for, plus a little interest. Do you agree?”

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