Page 68 of Broken Headboards
“Thoughts?” I ask, anxiety filling my voice.
“Hmm. Yes, Yes,” He nods, writing some more notes down. “That can be done.”
“Ok?” I ask, and I peak over the desk, hoping to get a glimpse of what he’s writing down.
I continue. “I’d be happy to show you some examples of my work to give you a better idea of what I’m looking for. Better yet, here is my portfolio. Look at it and use it for your reference.”
“Oh, there is no need for that,” he waves his hands in front of him, shooing my folder away.
“No?” I narrow my eyes, confusion and worry knotting my stomach. “Why not?”
“Before any meetings I take with a designer or client, such as yourself, I have my people do their homework. So, I’m already very familiar with your work. I have also followed your career since the humble beginnings of Oakmont Furniture Inc. I commend you for your tenacity and hard-work in making this business what it is today.” A grin as large as my fucking desk spreads across his face.
I don’t know why his compliment rubs me the wrong way, but it does. It seems too…fake. I don’t fucking know. I’ve always been good at reading people and there’s something about this guy that I’m not sure about. But again, it’s also Giovanni Giannoni. This guy is a fucking legend and if something were to be wrong with him, I’m sure someone in the industry would’ve exposed him by now.
“I appreciate that. Thank you. But, please, let me know if there is anything you need during the production stages,” I reiterate.
“There is no need to worry, Mr. Randall,” his tongue slides over my name like he’s licking me, and I squirm, feeling the awkwardness smother me.
“Good to know,” I stand up, signaling to him that it’s time to go. He follows me, tucking his notepad back into his satchel. “Thank you again for taking the time to meet with me. And, I look forward to working with you. I’m truly humbled by your patronage,” I reach out to shake his hand again.
“Again, the pleasure is all mine.” He grabs my hand, cradling it with both of his and shakes it up and down, slowly. I clear my throat and pull my hand out with a quick thrust, reaching for the door and opening it. He smiles at me as he leaves, and I shut the door behind him, feeling both used and excited.
But mostly fucking excited.
I walk over to my bar cart and pour a few finger lengths of whisky to celebrate my inevitable win. They should sign over the Clarendon to me now because Tess will not have a chance in hell.
With my whisky in hand, I stand in front of my floor-to-ceiling window and look out over the skyline. A wave of pure adrenaline rolls through me and I shiver knowing that Oakmont has made it to the fucking top.
The last time you saw me here, baby, I had a redhead between my legs, making me feel like a King. But let me tell you, right now, I feel fucking invincible.Thisis what it feels like to be a King. To know that the reign is finally and securely in your hands. It’s a feeling I can get fucking use to.
And, really, I should. It’s not every day you win a competition for the most exclusive contract in New York…and $2 billion.
A sliver of remorse loosens my pride when Tess enters my mind, but then again, she’s lost gracefully before. She can do it again.
Maybe I should soften the blow though. I’ve been told I do have that magic touch.
