Page 41 of Caught in the Axe
The way he was smiling at Lila made me want to fight him.
And rather than critically examining the proposal, he was speaking as though the deal were already done, as if he had no intention of negotiating. Smug prick.
“Once we get the detailed inventory lists and the first-quarter numbers, we can finalize everything,” he said, idly spinning his Mont Blanc pen in his manicured hands. “You can send your girl down with the signatures.”
I clenched my jaw, and the nerves I’d battled all morning had officially morphed into anger. “My girl?” I said, keeping my tone measured rather than devolving into feral growls like the caveman inside me urged me to do. “I assume you mean Ms. Webster, my associate?”
He nodded, clearly oblivious to my irritation.
“You can send them by mail,” I replied.
He sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers over his abdomen and smirking at the man seated beside him. “Do you even get mail up there?”
“We sure do.” Lila sat primly, as if she’d employed her beauty queen demeanor, though she’d tweaked it so her aura was all badass professional. “And we even have running water too,” she added, her tone dripping sarcasm.
He assessed her for a moment, then his grin spread further.
The urge to climb over this massive table and choke him with his tie was threatening to win out over logic.
“Could we take a short break?” Lila asked, slipping back into a façade full of sweetness. “I think we need to confer with our counsel.”
Tad stood and buttoned his jacket. “Of course. Let’s head to a breakout room.” He turned to the opposing counsel. “We’ll resume in ten.”
Without waiting for permission, we shuffled out of the conference room, and Tad led us down the hall to a space designated for our side to engage in discussions.
“I think it’s going well,” Tad said the moment the door to the small room closed behind us.
I shot him a look, still unsure that I’d leave here today without murdering a man.
Lila was bent over the pages, furiously circling and crossing things out with a pen. “This document is riddled with errors,” she said, looking up at me through her thick, dark lashes. “They didn’t bother to even look at what we’d prepared.”
I sat beside her and scanned the places she’d marked, taking in all the inconsistencies while she pulled out her laptop and tapped furiously, checking details against our recent calculations.
She was absolutely right. The majority of calculations were incorrect. No wonder the offer was so low.
I frowned up at Tad. “You reviewed this?”
He nodded and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Had my best team on it. It all checks out. Don’t get all paranoid because the number is on the low side.”
“But it doesn’t check out,” Lila said, her voice as steely as her expression. “If your team really did look at this, then they did a shitty job.”
I resisted the urge to pump my fist. Good for her. Lila tended to wear a sweet and polite exterior, but she’d thrown off that façade completely today, and I was here for it. As impressed as I was, her sass was also turning me on, but I’d deal with that later in the privacy of my cabin. For now, I’d breathe through it and focus on how damn magnificent she was. We had asses to kick, and I had every intention of standing beside her and working to do it together.
“What’s the strategy?” she asked me, completely ignoring Tad’s protests.
“Call them out,” I said, angling in closer than necessary. “Let’s force them to own their fuckups. Put them on the defensive.”
She surveyed me, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, as if uncertainty had sunken in.
I wouldn’t have it. She knew what the hell she was doing, and I’d back her up all the way. So I lowered my head,catching her eye, and squeezed her hand. “I couldn’t do this without you.”
With a nod, she pulled her shoulders back, as if garnering that confidence once again.
“We will not consider this offer,” I said, tossing the prospectus on the table as we strode back to the conference table. “It’s inaccurate and doesn’t come close to reflecting the value of the assets in question.”
Every person on the other side of the table blustered. They were all scoffs and nervous tics, like smoothing down ties and shuffling papers. “We employed our best researchers to prepare,” Huxley said. “The investors are timber experts.”
“We’re talking about the largest piece of undeveloped wilderness in Maine.” I folded my hands together on the tabletop, sure to keep my shoulders back and my chin high. “Our family owns more acreage, real estate, and machinery than any other timber operation on the east coast.”
