Page 7 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two

“Ugh!” I say, slapping my hand on the tiled shelf that holds the expensive custom soap—all courtesy of the Black-owned cosmetics company we helped launch at the start of our business.

It’s hard to believe the company that started in the founder’s kitchen is now valued at $1.4 billion and on shelves in big-box stores around the globe.

With my business acumen and Zane’s tech background, we were able to find the market gap, cut the testing phase in R&Dandoperationally, and get the company to profitability in one year instead of the traditional three.

I did that.Wedid that. Zane and I have a good thing going. We really shouldn’t fuck it up with sex any more than we already have.

Shit. Just get clean and get it together, Shae.

So, I do that.

Once I’m done and feel a bit more human, I take time to sift through the small closet and figure out what I want to wear.

Black suit. Brown suit. Gray suit.

I peek out the door and to the wall of windows. Rain falls in thick sheets, casting the entire city in a haze.

Black it is.

Because she has impeccable timing, Melissa knocks on my office door and enters right as I settle back in my desk chair.

“Are you ready for an update, Ms.Rivers?” Melissa says. Even in the drab heaviness of the rolling afternoon downpour and having to fire a literal thief, she’s back to being upbeat.

Happy.

When was the last time I was happy?

“Yes,” I press, jiggling my mouse to wake up my iMac.

“Great! I have four action items,” she says, starting her report as I’ve instructed her by letting me know how many topics we’ll be discussing up front. “Okay, so first thing: Chase Bank has confirmed they’ve settled the $500,000,000 for the escrow funds.”

I swallow.

“Great.”

When the terms of the sale included a mindboggling amount of earnest money to beat out the other bidders, I wanted to back away.

But Zane was confident in the purchase and reminded me that Orisun had the assets, and most of the five hundred mil was liquid.

That’s saying something.

Still…the company is out half a billion dollars, but only with the promise of acquiring a hundred-billion-dollar bank for the company and paddingmybottom line.

“The next point,” Melissa continues, “I’ve consulted with the executive staff company we’ve used and started putting out feelers to replace the leadership team at Keystone. Rebecca mentioned she’d have a few names on your desk. There’s thecharity gala at the end of the week that will allow you to do some observing before we start the formal process.”

Ah, damn it. The Triple B Education Fund’s annual fundraising gala. Every year, Lacey Jackson, wife of tech mogul Trance Jackson, who also happens to be a shareholder in Orisun, hosts a ball to raise funds for future Black female technical founders—essentially funding higher education for promising young women who plan to launch tech startups.

It’s certainly something I enjoy supporting; however, while I’m always invited, I only stay for fifteen minutes. Long enough to drop off a check for a hundred grand and bounce. Since Trance is hands-off with my business, he doesn’t mind that I’m a drive-by guest.

I rub my temples again, leaning on the desk.

“I forgot all about that,” I say, keeping my eyes closed. “Please get Grace from Wednesday Designs to?—”

“I already have you scheduled in for a fitting tomorrow,” Melissa says. I crack an eye open, noting the pleased look on her face. She’s always so damn proactive, and I love that about her.

“And the third thing?” I ask, leaning on one elbow and giving her my attention. Melissa reaches into the pocket hidden in her skirt and pulls out what looks like a Tic-Tac container.

“The third action item is the acquisition timeline.”