Page 52 of Never Dance with the Devils (Never Say Never #6)
KAYLA
I roll into Blue Lake with my game face on, ready to fight the war that’s been unexpectedly brought to my doorstep. No one dares to speak to me in the lobby or the elevator, though there are curious glances shot my way.
“Angeline, thank you for coming in early,” I say by way of greeting as I enter my office. “Everyone here and ready?”
She stands instantly, on full alert. “Yes. Greg and Helena from Legal are waiting for you as you requested. And Mr. Rodriguez will be here within the hour. Would you like Cameron in that meeting too? I can coordinate with his assistant.”
She’s good, having prioritized the business issues first, the same way I always do, while ensuring our family attorney will be ready to address the rest of this clusterfuck.
“Yes. Have Cameron come in as soon as he’s here, even if I’m still with Greg and Helena. I don’t want him and Rodriquez creating a game plan without me. ”
“Of course,” she answers, the duh implied in her tone. “Kayla?” I stop, looking at her expectantly though my mind is shooting off in a hundred different directions. “I’m happy for you,” she says hesitantly. “I kinda hoped this was why you’d been smiling so much lately.”
I’m so completely focused on this Jessup contract retraction that it takes me a second to realize what she’s talking about and switch gears.
And despite my recent happiness, there’s no smiling now.
“This isn’t exactly how I planned on the world finding out.
” I huff out a humorless laugh, admitting, “I kind of hoped to keep it quiet indefinitely. At least publicly.”
I read some of the headlines, saw the Reddit boards too.
The comments range from calling me a morally bankrupt whore—yes, an actual quote—to labeling me a lucky bitch for getting a Mad-Trick, with graphic musings about whether I was spit-roasted or not.
All of the commenters were locked onto this being some sort of sexually perverse oddity, like we’re freaks on display for their entertainment consumption.
But we’re real people, with hopes and dreams, fears and insecurities, and sex is a laughably small part of our relationship.
I suspect that like most people, our relationship is built in the quiet moments cuddled on the couch, the talks about everything and nothing, the knowledge that you are the bright spot in someone else’s day and they are the same in yours.
It’s the details, the minutiae, the seemingly innocuous moments that make what we have together special and uniquely ours.
Angeline’s words shake me out of my thoughts. “You’ve never cared what the world thought about you before. Why start caring now?”
I did not expect that. I blink, letting her words sink in and realizing that she’s right.
For the last hour and a half since Cole called, I’ve been spiraling in the chaos, lamenting my lack of control and trying to get some sort of tenuous grip on what my next step should be.
But maybe this isn’t a public relations nightmare to be managed?
My personal life and relationships have never been and still aren’t anyone else’s business, no matter the number of partners in my bed or their very public jobs, so there’s no reason to treat them as such.
I give Angeline one of my exceedingly rare hugs, over so quickly that she doesn’t even have a chance to react or hug me back. “Thank you.”
Greg and Helena stop talking the instant I open the door to my office. Maybe they were discussing the Jessup contract or maybe they were discussing my love life. It doesn’t matter. I’m in control again.
“As I said in my email last night, the contract with David Jessup is null and void based on the bad behavior clause,” I start the meeting off, the boss of bosses once again. “Thank you for that stroke of genius, Helena.”
Greg and Helena sit in their seats in total shock, clearly anticipating something completely different, but the brilliant head of our contracts division quickly inclines her head in acknowledgement of the praise.
“We need to approach from two angles—one, how best to limit our exposure on the contract retraction, and two, what’s our next step to obtain the process we wanted from Jessup. Contract first. Helena?”
She nods gracefully, probably having spent a good portion of her evening going over the contract she wrote with a fine-toothed comb in preparation for this moment.
“It’s iron-clad. Based on Brent Jessup’s well-documented comments, we more than meet the requirements for dissolution.
Admittedly, your comments might be seen as a contributing or even inciting factor, but since we’re not trying to force the contract…
” She pauses, glancing to Greg, who shakes his head.
“I don’t foresee any issues other than petty arguments, which I’m more than capable of addressing. ”
Helena is most assuredly capable, but more than that, I think she’s looking forward to going toe to toe with a fellow attorney who has so entirely fucked over his company with his actions.
“I trust you to handle that,” I tell her, meaning it. Turning to Greg, I say, “Okay, next steps.”
“To be clear,” he starts, “while the contract is still in place, we have a small amount of ownership percentage within Jessup Enterprises. If you’d like, we could force the issue, give us perpetual access to the patented process under our investment rights.
However, going that route would likely result in a messy and prolonged battle within the courts as the Jessups fight us.
It’s also not the best look for potential investments in the future who may see Blue Lake as prone to underhanded commandeering of assets as opposed to partnering for mutually beneficial growth.
So, based on that, that isn’t the path forward I’d recommend. ”
“What do you recommend?”
“We chose Jessup Enterprises because they have what we want already in existence. It’s a plug-and-play option, if you will.
But we could create a similar process, different enough to avoid their patent but close enough to meet our needs,” Greg says.
“More of a custom-build option. It’ll take time to develop, which is why we didn’t choose that route in the first place, but now that it’s fight time versus build time?
” He holds his hands out like a scale, weighing both options.
“I’d go with option two. Hell, we might even improve on the process and get a patent of our own that’d make theirs worthless. ”
All of this started because I have an angel investment that I truly believe in and want to help grow to its full potential.
For that company to achieve what it’s capable of, they need the unique data-mining process that Jessup Enterprises wrote from the very first zero and one.
But if it was created once, it can be created again.
Especially if you throw enough money at it.
Nearly every business problem can be solved with dollar signs, a lesson I learned from Dad.
So Greg’s suggestion to bypass Jessup is a good one. If the timeline works.
“How long would a ground-up solution take?”
The grin lifting Greg’s lips tells me I’m going to like his answer. “As part of our initial due diligence, I looked into the industry at large as well as Jessup’s corporate history.”
Of course he did. I wouldn’t have expected anything less. In fact, I would’ve fired him for not doing what I’d consider to be the bare minimum of thorough research for a deal.
“And?”
“Jessup’s biggest competitor is Data Logic Solutions. They’re a smaller firm, started five years ago by a previous Jessup employee. There’s no bad blood that I could find, but in the wake of recent events…” He lifts one brow. “I find it possibly ironic to mention that the CEO is Nancy Lakeman.”
“A woman,” I state, a picture forming in my mind of a smart, strong woman in a leadership role inside Jessup’s own company. What that must’ve been like for her, what might’ve led her to leave and start her own competing company. “Can she handle what we need?”
Greg nods slowly. “I haven’t reached out to her yet, but based on what I can find online and from my sources, a contract like this would be a welcome opportunity, and with the financial support we can provide, she is more than capable of meeting our needs.”
There’s something poetic about the Jessups losing this deal because of their misogyny and the spoils going to a woman who left their company. I like it. Especially if it gets me what I want, the ultimate goal.
And while there’s a part of me that would quite enjoy burning Jessup Enterprises to the ground and pissing on the ashes of their company for spite, it’s not needed. That’d be like a shark worrying over a single shrimp in the entirety of the ocean.
Walking away with minimal muss and fuss might not be as satisfying in the short term, but the true devastation Jessup will feel will come in time.
David and Brent Jessup thought they could use my funding to grow exponentially.
Instead, I will offer that opportunity to their competitor, leaving them to wallow in the mediocrity they deserve while witnessing another company become what they could have.
It feels like the most finely-edged, sharply-pointed karma possible, without any sullying of my own soul.
“Get started on a new deal with Lakeman. If you have a good feeling about it, let’s move forward with her. Get her on my schedule.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Greg says with a deferential nod. “I’ll give Angeline an update by end of business.”
“Me too,” Helena says. “Though I expect my situation to be a longer, drawn-out discussion. But we’re prepared.”
I glance between my two trusted employees. “Thank you for your hard work. On getting us to this point, and for getting us out of this mess.”
A mess of my own making, but they have given no indication of annoyance at the reworking of the deal, nor have they made a single mention of the rest of the latest news about my life.