Page 328 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

“So it’s about profits?” I ask. “Of course it is, everything’s about profits. They think if we drop employee pay, that’s somehow going to—”

“They don’t want to drop employee pay, Zach,” she says. “Jesus, how did you ever get by without me standing next to you? They want to lay off everyone and move the company overseas. You have to start thinking like them or you’re never going to be able to beat them. If they think fifteen bucks an hour for the guy that sprays the plants is too much, why do you think minimum wage would sound better? Once you’re gone, so is every one of the employees that helped build Stingray.”

“You want to know what I find most surprising about that?” I ask.

Marly sighs. “Zach, if you’re actually going to do something about this, we really don’t have time to—”

“We have a guy who goes around the office spraying the plants, and yet I have never seen him,” I say. “I have a warneck dracaena, a weeping fig, and an umbrella tree in my office, but I have never once seen the guy that comes around to water the plants. I knew we had a guy because we asked about it, but the guy must be a ninja or something.”

“Are you done?” she asks.

“So they want to move the company overseas,” I say. “Isn’t there something in the board’s bylaws forbidding such an action?”

“Zach, it won’t matter—” Marly starts.

“I helped write the bylaws; you’d think I’d be more certain about that,” I muse. “They might be able to kick me out, but they can’t move the company out of the country. You’re a lawyer. If I remember right, you were there when we finalized the language. Are you telling me there’s a loophole?”

“It’s less of a loophole and more of an enormous gap in the fence,” she says. “The bylaws state that amendment of said bylaws could only happen with both the unanimous consent of the boardandthe approval of the CEO. They’re not mad you want to move the company’s headquarters, Zach. They’re mad you won’t move it further.”

“If I’m not the CEO, the bylaws may as well not exist,” I say. It helps to say the words out loud. “What was the last employee count?” I ask.

“Headquarters, nationwide or worldwide?” she asks.

“Are they just laying off US workers?” I ask.

“It won’t matter,” she says. “If anyone in our stores or factories overseas keeps their job, they won’t keep getting the same pay and benefits as their American counterparts. Basically, everyone outside of upper management will make as little as possible. This is the way it works in every other company, Zach. Now, are you ready to get over your stupid pride and your blind idealism and start listening to me?”

I pace slowly into the main area of my hotel room. “I’m listening now,” I tell her. “What do we do?”

“First off, you need to hire me back and in my old position, otherwise I won’t have the authority to do a lot of the things I’ll need to do if this is going to work,” she says. “You can keep Malcolm on if you want. He’s a bit cuddly for my tastes, but he’s not totally incompetent.”

I sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re asking me to trust—”

“I’m not asking,” Marly interrupts. “I’m demanding that you trust me. If that doesn’t happen, there’s nothing I can do for you. I crossed the line spilling the beans about Grace’s little shopping trip, but you know I’ve bled for this company just as much as you have.”

I think about it a moment. At this point, what do I really have to lose?

“All right,” I say, “you’re hired. What now?”

“Now, you come back to New York and our little cabal can have its first meeting,” she says. “In addition to you and me, I think we can get by with just Malcolm and about half a dozen lawyers. We don’t want too many people in on this.”

“Why don’t we just leak this is what the board is trying to do?” I ask. “The employees wouldn’t stand for it. Why keep them out of the loop?”

“The employees don’t matter,” she says. “They matter to you and they matter to me and maybe a few other people with minimal roles in upper management, but you break the news and all the shareholders are going to hear is that record profits are headed into their bank accounts. You’ll get plenty of sympathy from the public and even some outrage from the employees, but in the end, all anyone’s going to remember is that your company went back on its platform. They’ll hate you for a while, but the only people who are even going to care in a year are the ones taking their fancy new yachts out for a spin.”

“I can’t go to New York,” I tell her. “Not right now.”

She snaps, “Zach, this isn’t the time—”

“I’ll fly you all out here,” I tell her. “Say it’s something about the Mulholland office, that we’re having trouble getting permits or something.”

“Didn’t they finish building the thing yet?” she asks.

“They’re working on it,” I tell her. “Just make something up and make it good. I want you, Malcolm, and however many lawyers—ones we can trust—it’ll take to fix this, and I want you sitting across from me before the sun goes down.”

“I’ll make the calls,” she says.

I look out the window of my hotel room at the town that hated me, then loved me, and now wants to punish Grace for having known me. “While you’re at it,” I tell her, “maybe you can start thinking of any last-ditch efforts to save my job.”

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