All I cared about was we were being given an opportunity. I was going to make the most out of it. Whatever Jayne’s intentions were, I was going to make it difficult if not impossible to say no to me.
“We need to divide our time carefully. First we work out what we know about JD Stanley, Jayne, and the other executives in the business. I want to know everything from what they fed their dogs for breakfast to their mistresses middle names.” I shot a glance at Harper. That had been insensitive. Fuck. But this was war and we weren’t in Vegas anymore. I wasn’t used to having to second-guess what I said at work because I had a single focus and I had to keep that and pretend Harper was just another employee.
Her face was blank, which was a relief. “Then we look at their trading history. I want to understand what they react to, why they invest where they do, why they prefer certain products over others. Look for patterns.”
Marvin stuck his hand up. “I’ve started some of the stuff on their investment history and product preference. Just in my spare time. I knew we’d have this moment at some point.” Marvin’s capacity for research and modelling was the best I’d ever seen, and it didn’t surprise me he had a jump start. He was a hard worker.
“Good. Jim and Harper, you work together on the more personal stuff. Use the agency if you need to.” I’d gotten Harper’s okay to tell the team about her personal connection, but I wanted to make sure I told them in a way that they understood she was here for her skills. It was obviously a sensitive issue for her. But unless it came up, I wasn’t going to raise it.
“I may have some useful insights about their investment decisions,” Harper said. She reached down to her laptop case and brought out a thick folio, placing it on the desk in front of her. “But I’ve also been tracking their investments for the last five years and noticed some interesting choices. I’d be happy to share these.”
Jesus, it looked as if she’d skipped business school and dedicated the last five years to researching JD Stanley.
“I’d like to work with Marvin on that, too, if that’s okay?”
“Marvin, work with Harper,” I said.
Marvin was practically salivating at the sight of her papers. “Sure,” he said, blushing when she smiled at him. I knew the feeling. There was something unaffected in her approach in the office that was totally disarming. She didn’t have the hard veneer of so many of New York’s Wall Street workers. Focus.
“Let’s meet at seven thirty each morning to update the team. I want us to start thinking propositions, looking for angles. This isn’t research for research’s sake. We don’t want analysis paralysis here.” Heads nodded around the table.
“We also need to determine our method of presentation. Do we do PowerPoint? Is it likely to be in an auditorium or boardroom? Talk to your contacts. We need more information than we have, people.”
“You should request a preliminary lunch meeting,” Harper said, looking directly at me. “Call his assistant personally. Tell her you want to take him to La Grenouille. It’s his favorite.”
The memory of the smooth skin of her breasts under my hands paralyzed my tongue for a second, and I had to look away before I could answer. “You don’t think that’s too pushy?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t understand the concept of too pushy. He’ll be testing your mettle. He didn’t give you much information about your meeting, right?”
“Nothing,” I replied.
“He’s trying to send you on a wild-goose chase. Don’t waste time. Take control. Ask him what he wants.”
I nodded. Of course, she was right. “Donna, put some time in my calendar for me to do that.” Harper looked glum, but I was grateful for her insight, despite the fact I hated the restaurant she’d suggested. I’d never been because it seemed so stuffy.
“And then in terms of who’s presenting, that will be me and Harper. We’ll need plenty of time to rehearse.”
I glanced at Harper. Her eyes were wide, as if she hadn’t expected me to take her. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” she asked. “Of course I want to, but—I’ve never pitched before.”
I took a deep breath and tapped my fingers on the back of the chairs. She could be useful, like a carrot we could dangle in front of Charles Jayne. “Donna, what pitches do we have coming up?”
“We have the Asia-Pac for Goldman’s,” she said. “A week from Wednesday.”
“Good. Harper, get read into that. You can be my second chair in that meeting. Give you some experience. I can make a final decision after that.”
“Goldman Sachs?” she asked.
“Yes. They’re looking for someone to help them with a project in Asia.”
“Okay.” The slight quiver in her voice was the only thing betraying her lack of confidence. I doubt anyone else noticed. “I’ll speak to—”
“Jean,” Donna interrupted. “She’ll get you read in.”
“Good. I’m looking for your best work everyone. We’re going to nail this.” I smacked my fist on the table. “See you here tomorrow morning at seven thirty.”
Silently, people filed out of the room and I crossed my arms. Working with Harper would hopefully help my brain redefine her as a colleague, rather than someone I wanted to fuck—someone from whom it was my job to extract their best work. I needed those barriers between my worlds repaired and restored. Leaving Vegas Harper as part of my history with women would be the first step toward maintaining my distance.
First meeting down.
It would get easier to stop focusing on her neck, her legs, her ass, right? My dick would stop twitching at the thought of her hands spread against the glass of my office door while I fucked her from behind. Soon I’d no longer worry if her frown hid something I could ease or resolve. We were all business and that worked. It would have to.
Beginning the prep for the JD Stanley pitch had fired up the competitor in me, but the evening with my daughter and sister put things back into perspective.
“You can’t just ban me from wearing makeup,” Amanda whined as she twisted on the stool in front of the counter. Scarlett had brought Amanda to town so the three of us could spend Saturday shopping for Amanda’s dress. Hopefully it would be the last shopping trip for this dance, and Scarlett would back me up on the whole age-appropriate thing.
“I’m sure he’s not saying no makeup at all,” Scarlett said.
I ignored them both and continued to stir the spaghetti sauce. The Manhattan apartment had been something of a sanctuary to me over the years—everything was how I wanted it. My place in Connecticut was always overrun with my parents, Pandora’s parents, my sisters, and various friends of Amanda’s. I had no complaints. I loved that side of my life, but it was all the sweeter because I got to escape it every week and come to my quiet, modern New York apartment where I got to watch the game uninterrupted and fuck one of the women who seemed to drift in and out of my life.
“Are you saying that I can’t wear any makeup, Dad?”
“Of course he’s not.” Scarlett interrupted again and I took another opportunity to stay quiet. The less I said, the less of a chance there was to have an argument.