Page 22 of One Last Time?
I actually thought that was a good idea, but Peter looked like he did not. He frowned and stared at her.
“Charge for entry? Taylor, we’ve never charged for any event I’ve hosted for the last twenty years. People look forward to that ball every year, and the donations received are well in abundance of what we could charge for a ticket.” He furrowed his brows and snapped his gaze to me. “Dylan, any thoughts?”
Now was not the time for me to talk, especially when she was looking at me like that. Like I should step in and save her because this was exactly the kind of thing I would have suggested. She’d clearly taken my advice and was implementing it too.
“Taylor, do you really believe anything should be done to the ball?” I asked her. I felt I should put it like that because I knew she would have left everything the same.
“No, I don’t, but somehow, we’ve taken a turn for cutting costs, so naturally, I looked at the thing that would cost us the most in the next three months.”
“We haven’t taken a turn for cutting costs,” Peter snapped, clearly not liking the comment. “This is business, and in business you have to know what works and what doesn’t. The events we host are all part of the image, and I don’t want those touched. They stay. Think of something else.”
Now she looked nervous, and it made me feel like shit. She reminded me of myself. Me over the last year trying to convince my father that I was ready to represent the company. The only difference was, I had something to prove, and I was the one who’d created this situation here.
“Do you have anything else?” Peter snapped. He reminded me of Bruce Willis, but with hair. He had that hard man presence that said ‘Don’t fuck with me,’ and that prideful self-confidence I’d seen a lot amongst the seriously wealthy tycoon types.
On Sunday night, I’d looked up his net worth and nearly choked on my burger. As of today, Peter Cartwright’s net worth was eighty billion dollars. His siblings, who formed the rest of the empire, came in real close, but he was worth more because he was boss. It all started with him because he was the eldest and most entrepreneurial. He was boss and showing it right now as he looked at Taylor.
“No, I don’t,” she replied in a meek voice.
“Well, I won’t sign anything off until it gets a full review,” he told Taylor. “This consultation was arranged to give me an idea of what you do. Now I see you actually need help. Dylan’s ideas so far have the prospect of saving millions. PR is image, but it isn’t everything. You are wasting money. I warned you the other day, and it looks like you’ve done nothing. I won’t stand for this shit, Taylor. Last chance.”
That… was harsh.
“You make it sound like I’m doing such a terrible job,” Taylor challenged.
“My dear girl, just because you spend your time making these ideas of yours work and create results doesn’t class it as a good job. I need the full package. If one area is failing, the whole plan fails. Go over everything and come back to me next week with better. Understood?”
I thought my father was bad when he specifically laid down the law and told me explicitly that he didn’t want me sleeping with any more of his clients. Peter, however, was ruthless. He spoke to her like a child. I got that she washischild, but she was years away from being the age you would speak to your daughter like that. And, in front of people.
“Understood.” She nodded. She looked like she agreed too, but I sensed different.
She looked like she’d reached the end of the line, and I was the one who’d pushed her there. In my pursuit to make myself look good, I’d taken it all too far. Guilt weighed heavily on my mind for the rest of the day. I felt even worse when she didn’t turn up for work the next day.
Chapter 8
Taylor
* * *
Iswitched off my phone as it rang again.
Of the ten times that my phone rang today, two times were Dad. The other eight were—surprise, massive surprise—Brody.
He’d left two messages too. One asking if we could talk, and the other explaining why he hadn’t called before.
It was over a week and a half since we last saw each other, and the asshole said he thought he would give me time to cool off before trying to speak to me.
Maybe something was truly wrong with me. In my warped brain, I didn’t think we had anything left to say to each other. If I’d just caught him cheating and he was trying to apologize, then maybe there would be more for him to discuss. However, I caught him cheating with a woman who claimed to be his girlfriend, and she looked like she knew about me. It made no sense. I wanted nothing more to do with him, and when I switched my phone on again, I’d block his number.
As for Dad, well…
Today, I just didn’t know. Yesterday had been bad. He’d never spoken to me like that before.
It was a new experience and I needed today for some downtime. The whole treatment and the manner in which he spoke to me told me he really was looking for some reason to stop me from running the company.
He treated me like everything I did was so bad.
I woke up today with all the shit on my mind and decided to hang out with the wild child, Abby.
