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Emergency. Meeting at Cruz Financial re: Nakamura. All hands needed. Now.
Shit.
“I need to review these numbers more thoroughly,” I tell the Tokyo team, keeping my tone even. “Be available for my team’s questions.”
I end the call and immediately dial Caleb.
“What happened?”
“Dominic's team found fraud,” he says without preamble. “Real fraud, with inflated assets and hidden liabilities. We need to contain this before the market catches wind.”
“How bad?”
“Bad enough that you need to cancel everything else today. Logan's already heading to Dominic's office. I've got legal assembling in conference room A.”
I check my calendar. Three meetings at Carmichael Innovations, including the NeuraTech development session with Layla and her team.
“I'll be there in five,” I tell Caleb, already mentally shifting priorities.
But as I gather my materials, my thoughts drift back to her. To the fact that I'd see her in person for the first time since last night. Since I learned that wanting her and having her are two very different kinds of torture.
I press the intercom. “Jenna, I need you to cancel my Carmichael meetings today. Something's come up with Cruz Financial.”
“Already on it,” she responds efficiently. “Vicky can handle the operational review. Should I reschedule the NeuraTech session for tomorrow?”
The sensible answer is yes. Let Vicky handle it all.
“No,” I say instead. “Have Ms. Carmichael bring the prototype development plan to my office by end of day.”
“I can send a courier?—”
“Ms. Carmichael personally,” I repeat. “I need her input on the technical specifications.”
“Yes, sir.”
I head toward conference room A, mentally berating myself for the transparent excuse. There's no legitimate business reason why Layla specifically needs to deliver those materials personally.
Except that I want to see her.
Needto see her.
The next six hours blur into crisis management. What Dominic's team uncovered in the Nakamura deal isn't just concerning, it's deliberate. Asset values inflated by millions. Liabilities buried in subsidiary paperwork. A calculated attempt to slip past our due diligence.
By six-thirty, we've cornered Nakamura's board into accepting a revised deal that accounts for actual asset values, plus penalties for misrepresentation, or they can explain themselves to the SEC.
“That could have gone much worse,” Caleb says as we wrap up, shuffling through legal documents like a dealer counting cards.
Dominic Cruz leans back in his chair, designer suit somehow still immaculate despite the day from hell. “Could have gone better too. This kind of shit should never make it past initial review.”
“Agreed,” I say, checking my watch. Thirty-five minutes until Layla arrives. “What's your recommendation?”
“Full integration during the transition period.” Dominic's usually playful demeanor has sharpened into something laser focused. “My team works hand-in-hand with yours through every step of the Nakamura integration. We catch any other buried surprises before they explode.”
“That's a lot of coordination,” Caleb points out. “Who manages that kind of cross-team operation?”
“Jenna,” I say immediately. “She already handles our deal flow, and she's got the organizational skills to keep both teams in line.”
Dominic's grin returns. “Your ice-queen assistant? This should be fun.”