Page 4 of Hello Quarterback

Mia, smiling up at me with big blue eyes, soft blond hair framing her pale face, and the way her lips curled around her words as she thanked me just for showing up.

Could she be the answer?

I shook my head. She was the CEO of a billion-dollar corporation. She had better things to do than fake date a football player.

3

MIA

I stoodin front of the board for our quarterly meeting, just having presented my plan for acquiring Andersen Avenue. I knew I’d crushed the presentation, even though it wasn’t a project Griffen Industries typically invested in.

All I needed was a majority vote in favor of the acquisition, and I could extend an official offer to them before another investment banker realized what a good move the Andersen sisters were and took our chance.

“This will use the rest of our allotment for acquisitions for the year,” I said. “Unless there’s anything else, we can move forward with the vote.”

Several people were nodding their heads, shifting like they were getting ready, but then Thomas stood from his chair. “Actually, I have something else...”

As the CFO, Thomas had missed his calling as a model or a high-powered politician. With a head full of thick brown hair, a winning smile surely assisted by veneers that were flawless, an impeccable wardrobe, and a wife who talked him up at all company functions, he was well-liked within the company. By pretty much everyone except me. I felt like he’d been trying to undermine me since I started in my role as CEO.

Everyone turned to watch him, and I used the distraction to veil the frustration on my face. I sat back down at the long white table, settling into the sleek office chair with chrome finishings.

Now that he had the floor, he said, “Griffen Industries has a long track record of successful investments. None of them in this space. I’d like to find an alternate to propose to the board, more in line with our typical acquisitions and present it at the next meeting.”

My gaze narrowed at him. Thomas hadn’t even mentioned this in any of our meetings.

The CTO said, “Can’t be a bad idea to have more options, right, Mia?”

I ground my teeth together. “I wasn’t aware we needed more options.”

“Investing based on emotions and goodwill isn’t what got Griffen Industries to this point. But it sure as hell will drive us into the ground.”

It took all I had not to slug him. “Ignoring data and stalling for another quarter, there’s a chance another firm will extend an offer they can’t turn down.”

Thomas leveled his gaze at me. “Have they had other offers?”

Damn it. “Not at this time. Which puts us at an advantage so we don’t have to compete with other offers.”

Thomas said, “It seems like the fair thing to do is vote. All in favor of waiting for an additional, potentially more proven investment option?”

I clenched my fists under the table as, one by one, a majority of the people at the meeting raised their hands.

I got backto my office and slammed my notebook on my desk, chest heaving with frustration. Those fucking assholes.

I didn’t even have to close my eyes to remember Thomas standing pompously at the front of the boardroom, saying, “Investing based on emotions and goodwill isn’t what got Griffen Industries to this point. But it sure as hell will drive us into the ground.”

My jaw tensed as I shucked my heels and paced in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of my high-rise office, giving me an unmatched view of Dallas that I couldn’t even appreciate right now.

I’d done everything in the board meeting to show them how this could be beneficial for Griffen Industries, including a detailed presentation showing them we could be profitable within the first three years while building goodwill with the public. Something priceless for a company like ours.

I thought some of them were going for it, but Thomas was quick to turn the tables. I had no doubt he’d come back next quarter with some bland company to acquire, just like ones we’d done before. But deep down, I knew he wasn’t opposing this acquisition because it could be big for the company—only because it would be good for me.

A knock sounded on my glass door, and I turned to see my assistant, Vanover, with the door cracked. He looked stylish and professional as usual, his wavy brown hair gelled back and his suit perfectly tailored. “Tallie is here,” he said. “I can tell her to fuck off.”

I managed a smile, grateful for him. For some levity amidst my frustration. “It’s okay, Van. Send her in.”

He shrugged like he wouldn’t mind the chance to annoy my head of PR. “Can I get you something? Perhaps some ice water to dump on that hot head of yours?”

I rolled my eyes. “An ashwagandha green tea would be nice.” My wellness specialist had given me several tips to help with the stress that came with this job. And since I didn’t want to have a heart attack at fifty thanks to stupid Thomas, I followed most of her advice.

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