Page 43
Story: The Bargain
I lunged forward in my chair, almost coming out of my seat as I shrieked, “What?”
Declan shrugged and raised a hand. “Your plan of putting everything on a single home-run product comes with inherent problems. If it bombs, if we misread the market, we’re in a worse position than we are in now. If it wins, we win big, which will help carry us comfortably into the new year.”
My friend then lifted his other hand, holding it next to the other like a set of scales. “By contrast, Byron’s plan hinges on modifications to existing, successful products. It’s a lower-cost investment for the company. If his plan fails, we don’t have the cushion to carry us into the new year, but we will still finish in a better position than we are in now. If his plan wins, it can be easily expanded, and our marketing departments can mobilize fast enough to turn it into a home run.”
“So, you agree with him?”
My friend glared at me, his frown deepening. “I didn’t say that.”
I tried not to snarl at my oldest friend. Sometimes getting him to spit out what he was thinking was exhausting. Byron already wasn’t talking to me. Declan’s reticence was not helping.
“Two things. First, maybe part of the reason Byron came up with the proposal was to prove that he is capable of holding a more important position in the company than just beingyour executive assistant. You do recall that he has a master’s degree, correct? You’re talking about moving him to another department. Even as my assistant, it’s something of a demotion compared to working for the CEO, and all because he made the mistake of dating you.”
“Fuck.” I exhaled. That had never crossed my mind. In truth, the best option would be for Byron to leave Courtland and find another position somewhere else, but I didn’t want to force him out. If I were a good, thoughtful boyfriend, though, I’d be helping him to make that transition if it was what he wanted.
“Second,” Declan continued, as if he hadn’t just rocked my poor little world. “As his boyfriend, you should have left with him, taken him home, and done things to make sure he felt cared for and safe until he was willing to tell you what was wrong. Then you would solve the problem together instead of leaving him to deal with it alone.”
I stared at Declan, utterly speechless, my brain reduced to white noise. “How the hell do you know that? You know nothing about relationships. You couldn’t date your way out of a paper bag.”
“I learned it from you. You’re the one who said everyone wants to be taken care of. Even grumpy assholes like Pierce. And Byron isn’t half as grumpy as Pierce can be.”
He was right. Very, very right.
When Byron had canceled our dinner date, I should have followed him home and offered to take care of him. At the very least, grabbed a fucking bucket of fried chicken and offered to cuddle him until he felt better.
I needed to fix this.
As I jumped to my feet, I snagged my phone, wallet, and keys. “Whatever brought you here, send it in an email or tell Kaylan to make you my first meeting of the day. I need to go talk to Byron now.”
“Fine. Just try to be less of an idiot.”
Yes, that was the goal.
14
BYRON GRAHAM
Fucking jackass.
I sat on the floor of my apartment, my back against the mini fridge, glaring at the floor. Upon returning home, I’d changed out of my suit, thrown on my most comfortable clothes, and dropped to the ground, not knowing what to do with myself next. I was a fucking jackass.
What a horrible day!
But that was to be expected after a shit weekend. The visit with Ronnie hadn’t been bad, but it had hit home that I needed to figure out something for his situation. I was reluctant to pull him out of Holy Mother because I didn’t want to cause him any kind of distress, but it was what he needed. Giving Hope Long-Term Care Facility could provide him with the kind of care and attention he needed to live his best life possible.
After a lackluster visit with my mother on Saturday, I’d passed that night and all day Sunday working through all the information Sebastian’s people had gathered regarding government grants and other kinds of financial support.
Of course, I’d already banked three years of care thanks to Sebastian, and we’d had another date scheduled for tonight, which would have given me four years, but I couldn’t go throughwith it. Not tonight. My head was a mess, and my heart ached. How could I go out on a date with Sebastian when I couldn’t give him the full attention that he deserved?
Some wicked part of my brain argued that I should have sucked it up and done it for Ronnie.
No. That was wrong. I wasn’t using Sebastian for his money, and I wasn’t selling myself for my brother. We hadn’t hit that level of desperation yet.
But I’d started crunching numbers over the weekend, assuming that Sebastian did only give me enough money for three years. I’d made notes on how I could use it for my brother, stretching every fucking penny until they nearly snapped like a rubber band. Then I made notes on the ways I could spend my money that I wasn’t using on Ronnie to help my mother. I looked into nurses who would visit her house a few times a week, rehab programs, and assisted living facilities.
The sad part was that no matter how I worked it, my dollars didn’t stretch quite far enough. There was never any wiggle room for an emergency, such as my car breaking down or needing to buy a new laptop. God help me if something happened that required me to go into the hospital.
The truth was that as well as Sebastian paid me to be his assistant, I couldn’t stay in that position. I needed to make more money. Which made sense because I hadn’t gotten a master’s degree to be an executive assistant. I dreamed of managing my own department, and eventually, my own company.
Declan shrugged and raised a hand. “Your plan of putting everything on a single home-run product comes with inherent problems. If it bombs, if we misread the market, we’re in a worse position than we are in now. If it wins, we win big, which will help carry us comfortably into the new year.”
My friend then lifted his other hand, holding it next to the other like a set of scales. “By contrast, Byron’s plan hinges on modifications to existing, successful products. It’s a lower-cost investment for the company. If his plan fails, we don’t have the cushion to carry us into the new year, but we will still finish in a better position than we are in now. If his plan wins, it can be easily expanded, and our marketing departments can mobilize fast enough to turn it into a home run.”
“So, you agree with him?”
My friend glared at me, his frown deepening. “I didn’t say that.”
I tried not to snarl at my oldest friend. Sometimes getting him to spit out what he was thinking was exhausting. Byron already wasn’t talking to me. Declan’s reticence was not helping.
“Two things. First, maybe part of the reason Byron came up with the proposal was to prove that he is capable of holding a more important position in the company than just beingyour executive assistant. You do recall that he has a master’s degree, correct? You’re talking about moving him to another department. Even as my assistant, it’s something of a demotion compared to working for the CEO, and all because he made the mistake of dating you.”
“Fuck.” I exhaled. That had never crossed my mind. In truth, the best option would be for Byron to leave Courtland and find another position somewhere else, but I didn’t want to force him out. If I were a good, thoughtful boyfriend, though, I’d be helping him to make that transition if it was what he wanted.
“Second,” Declan continued, as if he hadn’t just rocked my poor little world. “As his boyfriend, you should have left with him, taken him home, and done things to make sure he felt cared for and safe until he was willing to tell you what was wrong. Then you would solve the problem together instead of leaving him to deal with it alone.”
I stared at Declan, utterly speechless, my brain reduced to white noise. “How the hell do you know that? You know nothing about relationships. You couldn’t date your way out of a paper bag.”
“I learned it from you. You’re the one who said everyone wants to be taken care of. Even grumpy assholes like Pierce. And Byron isn’t half as grumpy as Pierce can be.”
He was right. Very, very right.
When Byron had canceled our dinner date, I should have followed him home and offered to take care of him. At the very least, grabbed a fucking bucket of fried chicken and offered to cuddle him until he felt better.
I needed to fix this.
As I jumped to my feet, I snagged my phone, wallet, and keys. “Whatever brought you here, send it in an email or tell Kaylan to make you my first meeting of the day. I need to go talk to Byron now.”
“Fine. Just try to be less of an idiot.”
Yes, that was the goal.
14
BYRON GRAHAM
Fucking jackass.
I sat on the floor of my apartment, my back against the mini fridge, glaring at the floor. Upon returning home, I’d changed out of my suit, thrown on my most comfortable clothes, and dropped to the ground, not knowing what to do with myself next. I was a fucking jackass.
What a horrible day!
But that was to be expected after a shit weekend. The visit with Ronnie hadn’t been bad, but it had hit home that I needed to figure out something for his situation. I was reluctant to pull him out of Holy Mother because I didn’t want to cause him any kind of distress, but it was what he needed. Giving Hope Long-Term Care Facility could provide him with the kind of care and attention he needed to live his best life possible.
After a lackluster visit with my mother on Saturday, I’d passed that night and all day Sunday working through all the information Sebastian’s people had gathered regarding government grants and other kinds of financial support.
Of course, I’d already banked three years of care thanks to Sebastian, and we’d had another date scheduled for tonight, which would have given me four years, but I couldn’t go throughwith it. Not tonight. My head was a mess, and my heart ached. How could I go out on a date with Sebastian when I couldn’t give him the full attention that he deserved?
Some wicked part of my brain argued that I should have sucked it up and done it for Ronnie.
No. That was wrong. I wasn’t using Sebastian for his money, and I wasn’t selling myself for my brother. We hadn’t hit that level of desperation yet.
But I’d started crunching numbers over the weekend, assuming that Sebastian did only give me enough money for three years. I’d made notes on how I could use it for my brother, stretching every fucking penny until they nearly snapped like a rubber band. Then I made notes on the ways I could spend my money that I wasn’t using on Ronnie to help my mother. I looked into nurses who would visit her house a few times a week, rehab programs, and assisted living facilities.
The sad part was that no matter how I worked it, my dollars didn’t stretch quite far enough. There was never any wiggle room for an emergency, such as my car breaking down or needing to buy a new laptop. God help me if something happened that required me to go into the hospital.
The truth was that as well as Sebastian paid me to be his assistant, I couldn’t stay in that position. I needed to make more money. Which made sense because I hadn’t gotten a master’s degree to be an executive assistant. I dreamed of managing my own department, and eventually, my own company.
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