Page 19 of Mr. Big Shot

“I’ve never had a clearance process take this long. A few days, sure. A week or two, okay. But it’s been over two months now,” TJ complains. “Why doesn’t the FTC just take it over and get the ball rolling?”

“Because I think they’re drawing this out so they can put together a task force with a group of FTC and DOJ staff. I mean who knows how far they’ll take it. They could pull in the attorney general, academics, other experts—the sky’s the limit.”

TJ groans. “You’re kidding me.”

Hudson’s apparently not one to sit during phone calls. He’s been pacing behind his desk, walking a few short feet and then abruptly turning back, all the while fidgeting with a stress ball. Now, he sets the ball down and starts clicking and un-clicking a pen. “I had it happen to me two years ago. It was hell to slog through, let me just say that. Our client was extremely unhappy about how long the process took, and I had to hear about it daily. Both companies threatened to walk away a few times before closing.”

Hudson stops behind his desk and leans over on his hands, letting his head hang suspended. I’m in a relationship and also not looking and also this is my boss’s boss or something like that, so this doesn’t count—but say I were any other person in any other setting…let’s just get one thing straight: Hudson is so, so sexy it’s almost unbearable to be in this office alone with him right now.

First of all: the suit. We need a moment of silence to honor the tailor who poured this man into this particular cut and style. And navy wool…chef’s kiss.

Beyond that: it’s the body. Formidable height, wide shoulders, tapered waist. Every last thing about him is noteworthy from his tanned hands splayed powerfully against his desk to that thick dark hair—short on the sides, longer up top. It’s just begging to be tousled by a set of hands THAT AREN’T MINE.

I realize I’m completely and shamelessly ogling him, and I chastise myself.

“So how do we smooth things over?” TJ asks.

“We don’t.”

“We could fail to comply.”

I balk, and Hudson shoots me a death glare. Oh right, I’m meant to be an invisible fly on the wall.

“I’m going to assume you were kidding just now.”

“What?” TJ adds incredulously. “There are certain loopholes. We could take the naive approach, say we were unaware this merger met the HSR Act thresholds and beg for forgiveness afterward. They’ll slap us with civil penalties—”

“You’re talking about two of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the country playing dumb about an antitrust act put in place to prevent a market monopoly? Tell me that’s not your bright idea.”

Hudson is absolutely in the right here. TJ’s suggestion was just plain stupid. There’s no begging for forgiveness from the FTC.

“Since 2009, the FTC has challenged nine consummated mergers,” I say, to myself, but Hudson still hears it.

“And I refuse to be number ten.” He turns back to the phone. “Think of something else.”

Then he picks up the receiver and sets it down, ending the call.

God, that was…exhilarating.

My entire body is buzzing.

I feel like I just had really great sex.

Hudson looks over and studies me, likely aware of how much I just enjoyed that phone call. I have no doubt there’s an excited sheen in my eyes, rosy color on my cheeks. Oh god, am I breathing hard?

“What are the current HSR thresholds?” he asks, obviously wanting the answers quickly.

“They change annually.”

His dark taunting brow says, Humor me. “What are the current thresholds?”

“There’s the size-of-traction test that’s met if the value of the equity or assets to be acquired exceeds $90 million.”

“And…”

“Size-of-person test, which only applies if the transaction is valued between $90 million and $359.9 million.”

He nods like he’s proud.

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