Page 87 of Moonlighter
The truth is I don’t have a car lined up. And even if the circumstances suck, I don’t mind more time with Alex. “Can I hitch a ride to Manhattan?” I ask her. “I’m staying at my dad’s place for a few days.”
“How come?” Her forehead creases with concern. “Is he okay?”
“The old coot isfine, I promise.” It’s me with all the issues. “My apartment has a loft bed and my doctor doesn’t want me climbing stairs. I’m sick of my pull-out sofa.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Of course I’ll drop you at your father’s place. He lives in the West 70s, right?”
“Yeah, thanks.” We step into the elevator and I clear my throat. “No news tonight?”
Alex pulls her phone out and unlocks it. “Here. I got a call a few minutes ago but I didn’t look. Tell me who it’s from.”
I take the phone. “Uh oh. I’m sorry to say that your ex called again. No voice message.” I notice her caller ID reads:Asshole Tatum. “I’m afraid to ask how my number displays on your phone?”
“Well, you’re not in there at all.”
“Let’s fix that.” I open her contacts list and add my number myself. I title itEric Babe-yer. Then I hand it back.
“Subtle.” She gives me a smile leave the elevator and head for the exit. “I can see the car waiting right outside.”
“Dude!” the young bodyguard says as he holds open the back door of a glossy BMW 5 Series. “It’s an honor, man.”
“Thanks.” I swear he makes me feel about a hundred years old. “I’m headed to Seventy-ninth and Broadway, if you wouldn’t mind. The Apthorp.”
“No way?” He squints at me. “Say, you’re not related to—”
“Carl Bayer? He’s my dad. Max is my brother.”
“Shut the front door! I knew you were cool.”
“Uh, thanks. I think.”
Luckily for my grumpy ass, Alex’s car has a partition between the driver and our seat. “Now tell me,” I ask as soon as we’re in motion. “How are you feeling?”
“Busy. Large. It’s a strange moment for me.”
“How so?”
“I have so much on the line at work. My whole career rides on this expensive project launch. But I also have a baby to plan for. I’m usuallyallabout work. I feel guilty when my mind is on other things.”
“Ah.” I dig my fingers into the muscles at the sides of my knee again. “I’ve been all about work for just as long as you have. But it isn’t going that well right now, and I don’t know where that leaves me.”
“What’s the worst that can happen?” Alex asks. “I mean that literally.”
“My contract isn’t renewed in the spring, and nobody picks me up. I’ll be teamless. This isn’t my favorite subject.”
“Ouch,” Alex says. “I’m in the same boat, really.”
“What? You run the place.”
“For now. If my new product fails, the board could fire me. Dad’s vote isn’t enough to save me. That would be extreme, but my general counsel would love to make it happen,” she says.
“Whitbread, right?” I remember that dude from Hawaii.
“Nice memory. That’s the guy. He’s been plotting my destruction since the day I took over the C-Suite.”
We sit in silence for a moment. I reach a hand across the leather and take her smoother one in it. She lets me. Her hand feels so smooth against mine. “Listen, Engels. You’ll outmaneuver him. I have no doubt.”
“I probably will,” she says quietly. “But that isn’t even my biggest problem. What will I do if Tatum won’t relinquish? I can’t make him sign away his rights.”
