“Yes, a business meeting. I was talking to a potential client.”
“Why wouldn’t the client come here?”
I put my stuff on my desk and turned to look at him. “Because he’s a busy man. I went to him and met him on his terms.”
He looked disgusted, like it was the worst thing he’d ever heard. “I would think they came here.”
“Then you would think wrong.”
“In the future, I’d like to be included in these sales meetings.”
I raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t a sales meeting. Do you know about tax liability? Can you answer questions about appropriate office expenditures?”
“I’m the owner,” he stated for what I was certain was the tenth time. “I think it sends a clear message about the company when I am in attendance.”
“It sends a message,” I muttered. “By the way, I got the account. A large account I might add, and guess what, I did it all by myself. This may come as a shock to you, but I bring in the big fish all the time. It’s what I do.”
“Good. Congrats. I’m impressed.”
I saw an opportunity and I had to take it. “If you’re so impressed, put the coffee machine back in the breakroom.”
He snorted. “I’m not that impressed,” he said and walked out of the office.
He was insufferable. I could have brought in Microsoft and he would still cinch up his little purse strings. The guy was so tight I was certain he squeaked when he walked. I bet the new office he was having designed for himself cost twenty times the monthly allotment for the breakroom supplies.
That was a battle that would require some strategizing. I had to find a way to appeal to the man’s human side. That was assuming he had one. I was beginning to wonder if he did.
Chapter 12
Nash
I pulled to a stop in front of Davin’s building and waited. He said he would be waiting for me. I wasn’t early. He was late. I really hated when people were late. It wasn’t like I could leave my Porsche sitting unattended. He didn’t live in a great neighborhood. I was certain I would come out of the building and find my car stolen.
He came out of the building with his clubs slung over his shoulder. I popped the trunk and waited for him to load them. “The Porsche today?” he said as he folded his body into the front passenger seat.
“I was feeling frisky,” I said with a laugh.
“I wore the dumb shirt,” he said and tugged at the polo shirt.
“It’s worth it,” I told him. “This is one of the best courses in the state. When we have more time, you have to go out to my house in the Hamptons. Sebonack is absolutely the best of the best.”
“Yeah, I’ll take your word for it. Green is green to me.”
I shook my head. “You’ll see,” I said. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”
“Are you sure I’m dressed appropriately?”
I glanced over and nodded. “Yes.”
“Is this a date?”
I almost choked. “Come again?”
“You sent me an outfit to wear. That’s weird.”
“I sent you an outfit because you are going as my guest and you have to be dressed a certain way to get in. And I don’t want you to embarrass me.”
He laughed and threw his head back. “You mean I shouldn’t fart or burp?”
I rolled my eyes. “Please don’t.”
I drove over George Washington Bridge and headed into New Jersey. The sun was out, and it was a perfect day to get out on the course. I was itching to do something I had not been able to do in months. I handed my keys to the valet and we headed inside the club.
“Holy shit,” Davin whispered. “This is swanky. Thanks for the clothes. I would have stuck out like a sore thumb in my shorts and tee.”
“You wouldn’t have been allowed in the door.”
Our tee time wasn’t for an hour. We headed for the lounge to grab a mimosa and some fresh fruit. “So, this is how the other half lives,” he teased.
“Don’t act like I never take you anywhere nice,” I said.
“You’ve never taken me here,” he said.
“I’ve taken you to my beach house.”
“Yes, which reminds me, summer is coming.”
“Yes, it is,” I said. “Hopefully, we have some free time. My hands are full right now.”
“Because you keep buying companies,” he said.
“I like buying companies.”
“You like money,” he retorted.
“I like being successful.”
“How is it going?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you in the bar all week. I’m guessing that means you’ve been there.”
“I have been there. It’s been a challenge.”
“What do you actually do?” he asked. “I know you’re not filling out tax stuff. That would be like me trying to do it.”
“No, I’m there to help streamline the process. I’m trying to identify the reasons why the firm isn’t making money hand over fist.”
“And have you figured it out?”
I shrugged. “I’ve got it narrowed down. I’ve installed cubicles to separate the employees. Now they can’t spend their days chatting away. I’ve instituted a strict policy about what is okay to do on work time and what isn’t. I had my IT guy restrict access to all social media platforms. That’s going to be huge in cutting down on the screwing around.”
He winced. “Damn, that’s very fascist of you.”
“No, it isn’t. I don’t pay them to sit around and take selfies. Nor do I pay them to look at every other selfie on the internet. Do you know how many social media sites there are?”
“No, but wouldn’t they just use their phones for that?” he questioned.
“I’ve made a rule that personal cell phones must remain in their desks, purses, or whatever during business hours. I don’t want them blabbing all damn day to their best friends and significant others.”
He looked at me like he was staring at a monster. “Damn. You are one tough boss. I’m glad I don’t work for you.”
I looked at him. “You don’t?”
“Not like that. Dude, if you were in my bar doing that shit to me, I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I mean, I might be sitting here as your friend, but I would sure as hell never want to work for you.”
“It isn’t asking too much to have them focus on their jobs. They are paid well. Very well quite frankly. They should be doing the work in front of them and not worrying about who ate pho for lunch.”
He laughed. “I’ll give you that, but I keep my cell phone on me. You never know when there might be an emergency.”
“Then you answer those calls, but texting and stalking your ex’s new girlfriend on Instagram isn’t exactly conducive to getting real work done. Especially now. It’s the middle of tax season. Shouldn’t they be busy?”
“I’m sure they are busy. I don’t know about them, but if I had to stare at numbers all day and count other people’s money, I’d need a break. I would lose my shit if I had to spend eight hours a day staring at a computer screen.”