Page 6
Story: Darling Obsession
I can’t even tell if that’s sarcasm or not.
“So, what brings you up from your subterranean lair?” he inquires, referring to my office on the lower level of the tower. “If not the view…?” His eyes follow the ass of a passing waitress. He’d be courting a harem in this booth in minutes if I weren’t here. Damian Vance is a social creature.
Not like me.
I’m a lone wolf by design. But if I fail this challenge, I’ll bealonein a way that terrifies me to the depths of my obsidian soul.
For the last sixteen days, it’s been all I can think about.
I don’t even want to do the math, yet the numbers are there in my head, all damn day and night. I’m past the halfway point now.
I have fourteen more days to introduce my siblings to Darla, or I fucking fail.
“Youknowwhat,” I grit out. “I want to know who chose my challenge.”
“Ah. So that’s what the dark storm gathering in your atmosphere is about.”
“Was it you?”
“Maybe you should ask yourself, if I did know, would I tell you?”
“Then it wasn’t you.”
“Time is ticking, Harlan,” he says seriously. “Don’t tell me you’re still spinning. Trying to find some way out of this…”
Oh, I’m spinning.
I’m wound up so tight, I yelled at my assistant today, for no damn reason, and everyone on the floor heard me. I’ve never yelled at him before. I don’t even raise my voice at work.
I literally try not to talk to anyone in person in the office, at any volume.
The best leaders listen more than they talk.
Gather data.
Review information.
Make decisions.
That’s what I do all day, every day, as CFO of one of the largest privately held companies in the country. And I’m not used to problems I can’t solve.
I’ve tried solving this challenge problem the way I always do—with data.
For sixteen days, I’ve had the one man on my team who I truly trust to protect me and my privacy—my head of security—work the data for me, and he’s come up with an answer.
An answer I can’t seem to fully swallow.
It’s just too much of a risk.
Isn’t it?
The turquoise hair across the room catches my eye. She stands at a table, smiling brightly at the male patrons who are probably flirting with her, directly in my line of vision over Damian’s shoulder. I lean back in my seat so I can’t see her, trying to focus.
I can’t tell my siblings the truth.
I can’t give them some bullshit story to try to explain why I can’t introduce them to Darla, either.
Because either of those options will yield the same result: I fail to complete my challenge.
“So, what brings you up from your subterranean lair?” he inquires, referring to my office on the lower level of the tower. “If not the view…?” His eyes follow the ass of a passing waitress. He’d be courting a harem in this booth in minutes if I weren’t here. Damian Vance is a social creature.
Not like me.
I’m a lone wolf by design. But if I fail this challenge, I’ll bealonein a way that terrifies me to the depths of my obsidian soul.
For the last sixteen days, it’s been all I can think about.
I don’t even want to do the math, yet the numbers are there in my head, all damn day and night. I’m past the halfway point now.
I have fourteen more days to introduce my siblings to Darla, or I fucking fail.
“Youknowwhat,” I grit out. “I want to know who chose my challenge.”
“Ah. So that’s what the dark storm gathering in your atmosphere is about.”
“Was it you?”
“Maybe you should ask yourself, if I did know, would I tell you?”
“Then it wasn’t you.”
“Time is ticking, Harlan,” he says seriously. “Don’t tell me you’re still spinning. Trying to find some way out of this…”
Oh, I’m spinning.
I’m wound up so tight, I yelled at my assistant today, for no damn reason, and everyone on the floor heard me. I’ve never yelled at him before. I don’t even raise my voice at work.
I literally try not to talk to anyone in person in the office, at any volume.
The best leaders listen more than they talk.
Gather data.
Review information.
Make decisions.
That’s what I do all day, every day, as CFO of one of the largest privately held companies in the country. And I’m not used to problems I can’t solve.
I’ve tried solving this challenge problem the way I always do—with data.
For sixteen days, I’ve had the one man on my team who I truly trust to protect me and my privacy—my head of security—work the data for me, and he’s come up with an answer.
An answer I can’t seem to fully swallow.
It’s just too much of a risk.
Isn’t it?
The turquoise hair across the room catches my eye. She stands at a table, smiling brightly at the male patrons who are probably flirting with her, directly in my line of vision over Damian’s shoulder. I lean back in my seat so I can’t see her, trying to focus.
I can’t tell my siblings the truth.
I can’t give them some bullshit story to try to explain why I can’t introduce them to Darla, either.
Because either of those options will yield the same result: I fail to complete my challenge.
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