Page 51 of Emmett
Less than ten minutes later, I’m sitting on the edge of the tub in the bathroom, having cold, gritty mud painted onto my face by my best friend, whose own face is already covered ina thick layer of the stuff. She paints with precision, avoiding my eyes and mouth. When she’s finally done, I stand and look in the mirror at the two of us with a laugh.
A thick layer of the green crap is caked onto my face, matching Ro’s. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but I’m almost certain that my face is tingling.
“This is horrifying.”
“But just think of how pretty you’ll be after!” She teases.
Pretty boy.
I feel Nash’s hand wrap around my wrist and I hear the gentle tone of his voice playing in my head as he told me ‘I didn’t leave you.’ I look at my friend, bobbing her head side to side and moving her lips along with the music coming out of her phone’s speaker while she sits on the counter.
“Rowan, can I—” I hesitate, suddenly choked by nerves that ball themselves into my throat to block my speech. Ro’s eyebrows raise in expectation, and I clear my throat. “I was just wondering how long we have to keep this stuff on.”
“Two more songs,” she smiles.
Maybe I can try again tomorrow.
Maybe.
TWENTY-ONE
Nash
There are certain things in life which latch on and embed themselves into the corners of one’s mind; be it a specific moment that becomes a memory central to your very being, a hard-learned lesson that you didn’t know you needed, or a familiar smell that pulls you through time and space toward the best – or worst – moments of your life.
The first time that I smoked a Nicaraguan cigar, the flavor buried itself deep into my mind and I knew that I would never be able to smoke any other import again.
When I abandoned niceness and suddenly found myself surrounded by favors, yes men, and closed deals, I learned that fear was a far more powerful motivator than kindness, and that a villainous mask was far more effective than a friendly one.
When I inherited my grandfather’s empire and my parents finally contacted me, I learned that the idea of a juicy check and even more celebrity could make it alright that they were never able to ‘pray the gay away.’
And when I saw the fear in that boy’s eyes as his fist swung toward me because he thought I’d disappeared on him, something inside of me cracked wide open, and I learned that he was more than just someone that I was having fun toying with.
I relax into my chair, leaning back and propping my feet up on the table in front of me as I scroll through my phone, letting Fowler and his team at the opposite end of the table consider my offer.
Colt, the Texan, the little wife, and Emmett all sit across from me, discussing the plans that I’ve laid out in front of them: a simple merger of our companies. Bring the two biggest names in the city together and crush the smaller competitors who think that they could ever stand a chance against one of us, let alone both as a joined force.
From the corner of my eye, I see Emmett participating enthusiastically in the conversation, though he occasionally glances over to me and has to hide the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth.
“A merger is simply not an option,” Colt finally announces. “We would never be able to reach civil agreements on minor details, let alone major assets. I just don’t see it working.”
“Uh-huh,” I say flatly, keeping my eyes on my screen.
“We have entirely different methodologies to running our businesses,” he continues, “and our team is not willing to compromise ours. We’re sure you aren’t, either.”
“Not a fuckin’ chance in hell,” the Texan barks in agreement with him.
Alwayssoeloquent.
“Wait,” Emmett pipes up, and I try to ignore the fact that he’s drawn my attention. “We would be stupid not to consider it. There are other options that could make this work.”
I watch as he pulls a sheet of paper from the folder in front of him and he begins drawing out a Venn diagram, explaining to his team the ways that our companies could functionally overlap without absorbing into each othercompletely or dissolving, only stopping occasionally to take a sip of water.
His team watches, nodding along to his thoughts and ideas, offering their input as they continue to talk amongst themselves. Part of me wishes that they would leave and do this on their own turf, but another, louder part of me is glad to be watching this.
Watchinghim.
When I see Emmett reach for his glass again, I send him a text message.