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Asher crossed the room and held out his hand.  I ll send you a postcard from Trundaie.
Dominic shook his hand. He didn t look the least bit bothered by Asher s baiting.  You re wrong
about one thing, Asher. I don t miss my old life. It was exciting, but it was empty. Life is about more
than that.
Asher walked him to the door.  I ll take your word for that. Thanks for coming by.
Dominic nodded and added,  Coming by was never in question. Some of your family has become
like my own.
 If you mean the Andrades, you can have them, Asher said.
Dominic gave him an odd look but didn t say more before leaving.
After he was gone, Asher called his business partner, Brice Henderson. He didn t waste time
with pleasantries.  I need you to move the deadline up.
 The compound needs an additional round of testing.
Brice was a genius, but he didn t understand the complexities of the volatile international market.
 The sooner we have the facility up and running, the sooner we can hand it off to the government and
get the hell out of there. Get me the product ahead of schedule.
 Nothing will happen if I can t get this compound right.
  Nothing is not an option. We re delivering something to them. We have too much riding on this
not to. Do whatever it takes.
 Asher, unlike your Neanderthal negotiations, science cannot be rushed.
 Things are heating up in Trundaie. We need the standing government to back us, but they won t
do that until we show them how profitable it will be for them. We need to get our facility up and
running . . . now.
 It ll be ready by the date we agreed to.
Asher hung up the phone and retuned to his seat behind his desk. Arguing with Brice would be a
waste of time. He rubbed a hand roughly over his face and typed in the password on his computer.
His cell phone beeped, announcing a text. It was an encrypted message from Dominic. A name.
Perfect.
The phone on his desk buzzed.  Mr. Barrington, there is a Ms. Emily Harris here to see you. She
said she has an appointment, but it s not on my calendar.
 I don t know the name. Tell her I m in a meeting, and she ll have to come back, but don t
schedule her.
Ryan lowered his voice.  I tried that, Mr. Barrington, but she said your mother made the
appointment.
 Shit. He vaguely remembered agreeing to speak to someone. It was probably one of his
mother s friends, older than sin, possibly senile, and most likely there to ask for a donation to some
charity his mother thought he should care about. The quicker he met with her, the sooner she d be out
of his hair.  Send her in.
* * *
Emily Harris crossed and uncrossed her legs nervously, then tucked a defiant curl back behind her
ear. She looked down at her French manicure and took a deep, calming breath. The life expectancy of
acrylic nails on her was less than a day. She d purchased a beige dress suit for the trip, but it was her
only business attire, so she hoped Mr. Barrington could be persuaded to change his mind in one
meeting.
Emily wasn t normally a confrontational person. She was a self-professed people pleaser. To her,
there was nothing wrong with wanting those around her to be happy. Both her grandfather and her
mother had done everything they could to give her a good life. She was grateful, and that gratitude
was the fuel that fed her determination to take her fight directly to the CEO of B&H Advanced
Engineering. If anyone had told her six months ago she d be in Boston taking on one of the nation s
richest men, she wouldn t have believed herself capable.
But here I am. It s amazing how motivating a dose of desperation can be.
When B&H first began their attempts to purchase properties in her town, she hadn t worried. Her
land was nearly dead center on the proposed plans for demolition and development, but she d been
confident her neighbors would never sell. One by one, though, they d accepted offers and moved
away.
At first, Emily had tried to reason with the company representatives who relentlessly offered to
buy her land. When that didn t work, she stopped answering their phone calls. Their unopened letters
were piled on her kitchen table. She hoped if she blocked all communication with them they would
see how serious she was.
Their response had been a summons to court. It wasn t until she d taken the letter to a lawyer and
been advised to sell that she understood how dire her situation was.
 I won t sell, she d told the lawyer.
 You won t have a choice, he d answered sadly, removing his glasses and placing them on his
desk.  I could cite countless similar cases where the plaintiff lost or took a payout in arbitration. Why
put yourself through that? Make them an offer you can live with and move. You don t have the
resources to win against a company like B&H.
 I won t sell, she growled before she gathered her papers and left the office of the only lawyer
within fifty miles of her home.
I won t.
It didn t help her confidence when she heard Mr. Barrington s secretary admit he d tried to get rid
of her and failed.
After weeks of trying to contact Mr. Barrington and being given the run around, Emily wasn t
going anywhere until she was given a chance to speak to him in person. I don t care how long I have
to sit here. I didn t come this far to give up now.
An office door opened. Emily stood quickly, dropping her small purse on the floor in front of her.
Because the universe had a mischievous sense of humor, most of the contents spilled out onto the rug
at her feet. She scrambled to pick everything up and groaned when she saw her wallet had bounced
beneath the chair she d been sitting on. She bent but couldn t reach it, so she went down onto her
knees and grabbed it, stuffing it back into her bag before standing.
As she straightened she noted the polished pair of shoes standing less than a foot away. Her eyes
scanned their way up a pair of charcoal trousers, a stark white shirt, and an expensive looking tie
before landing on the face of the man the suit had obviously been tailored to fit. Her artistic eye [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]