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Bam!

The smack of leather on canvas snapped me back to the present. The Geodot exec had wrapped up his long-winded diatribe from the sound of it.

The next exec in line was from Weiz and Sons, a financial firm I’d acquired several years ago.

“I’m pleased to report that our fourth quarter earnings exceeded expectations,” he said, trying to sound more casual and at ease than the fellow from Geodot had. He was more used to seeing me in my trunks, half naked and glistening with sweat while I engaged in my daily fitness regimen. “We did have some issues with a rather large client defaulting on his loans, however when said client declared bankruptcy—”

Bam!

I was lost in my head again, thinking about the fact that it had been two weeks since the wedding and I hadn’t actually slept with my wife one night. And not just in terms of sex, either. Amanda had her own bedroom on the opposite wing of the manor. I rarely saw her for more than brief moments at allunless it was for one of our scheduled public events.

When I suggested that she should at least eat breakfast with me, she did so. I immediately regretted my supposed victory when I saw how she intended to act. She behaved in a cold but cordial manner. Nothing she ever said was rude or an insult. Yet she managed to make the experience so unpleasant we often just sat together and said nothing at all.

Much, I supposed, like a couple who had been married for a long time. I supposed I should have expected it. This was a fake marriage, after all.

Still, would it have been too much for her to at least pretend to get along? I knew that she was right—this was a transactional arrangement. But maybe some part of me didn’t get the memo and was hurting because she was so cold and distant.

Bam!

I chastised myself for my moment of weakness. Evan Jones did not get soft spots for women.

Bam!

Another exec took his chance to speak, and this one didn’t have as rosy a report to make.

“Ah, unfortunately, sir, Welshie Subs has posted a loss again for this quarter.”

I hit the heavy bag with a six-hit combo, punctuating each with the expulsion of rage. Then I turned to face him, resting one arm on top of the swinging bag.

“What did you just say to me?”

“I—Welshie subs has posted a loss again for this quarter. However, with our new initiatives coming, sir, I believe that—”

I turned to Jenna.

“Who’s in charge at Welshie?”

She didn’t even have to consult her laptop to tell me. She rattledright off the top of her genius head.

“That would be Thomas Helms, sir.”

“Helms…Helms…Helms…” I blinked sweat out of my eyes as I tried to remember the man. I owned so many companies. “Wait, is he the legacy CEO?”

“Yes, sir, you left him in place.”

“He did a pretty good job of convincing me that he was the man for the job. Obviously, I was mistaken. Send him his papers, he’s done.”

She took out her tablet and tapped on the screen.

“Done and done. His pink slip will arrive on his desk by express delivery in two hours.”

“Who’s next in line?”

The exec paled several shades.

“That would be James Brody, sir.”

“Who the fuck is James Brody?”