Page 2 of She’s a Big Deal
Grace powered down the corridor, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the unimaginative surroundings. Muted colors, gray carpets, anemic plants languishing in corners on mismatched furniture... Generic world, she decided. Desperately corporate, uninspired, and deflated. No wonder Wills had been so enthusiastic about her designs and ideas for renovation if he was forced to come to work every day in this dreary place. And their hotels were the same, Grace knew. She would inject a much-needed breath of fresh air to the Excelsior brand, add vibrancy and flair to their hotels, and upgrade their outdated way of thinking at the same time. Business would be flowing again in no time.
“Ah, here it is, yes.”
“Ms. Michaels, if you would just let me announce you…”
Ignoring the secretary’s request as she trotted behind her to match her longer strides, Grace pulled open the double doors of the conference room and let her body language announce her arrival. When she stepped through, she did so with just the right mix of calculated restraint and fiery energy. Nobody would fail to realize that she was here to take command.
“Hello, gentlemen.” She flashed a hard smile, hands on hips, as all eyes turned to her .
“Grace.” An irritated-looking Zac Wills stepped forward to greet her with a firm handshake. “Please, join us.”
“Yes, I believe I will.”
His accountant and three of the directors from the Excelsior board delivered looks as bland as their matching three-piece suits. Grace groaned inwardly. Yes, it was fitting. They all pretty much matched the décor. She turned to face the only other woman in the room, who certainly did not favor bland. She was dressed in a violent-blue pencil skirt and crisp white shirt over a set of ample breasts, which she obviously took care to highlight. Okay, then. Now it all made a lot more sense.
“Well, well,” Grace stated with an amused sneer. “Kathryn Charles, I presume? Or should I call you Katya Barnett? Which is it, darling?”
If looks could kill, Grace would be reduced to mere bones from the way the woman, who turned aggressively to face Wills, first stared.
“What are you doing?” she barked. “This was supposed to be a private negotiation.”
Before he could reply, Grace let out a darkly ironic chuckle. “Yes, I’m sure you wanted it to be. Sorry, babe, but it looks like you’ve lost your chance.”
Wills’s patience seemed to be growing thin as he glanced from one woman to the other. Grace could empathize.
“Okay, what’s going on here?” he demanded.
Since no one offered her a chair, Grace pulled one out for herself, sat down, and crossed her legs. She flashed an inviting smile at her opponent, in sharp contrast with the lethal look in her eyes.
“Good question, Zac,” she approved. “I think we should all sit down, and let my former head of marketing explain.”
◆◆ ◆
“Taking into account various levels of stupidity, there is foolish, dumb, irresponsible. Then you’ve got the likes of Katya Barnett,” Grace later told her lawyer over the phone. “She’s all that and a few more. Yes, yes, we are definitely suing.”
During the meeting at Excelsior, she had easily dismantled every single argument her competitor came up with in her own defense. Grace explained to Wills and his people that the woman used to work under her. Deliberately using the word ‘under’ instead of ‘for’. And that she’d fired her for poor performance, and an even worse pissy attitude. In light of this information, the similarities in her designs and ideas could no longer only be attributed to a strange coincidence. It all pointed to the obvious and more serious issue: material theft.
“Of course, she denied it all when I confronted her,” Grace stated with a derisive snort. “Claimed that Charles is her maiden name, and Kathryn just a swankier version of her first name. She said her company is legit. She refused to back down, and swore blind that she had not stolen anything from me.”
“Did Wills believe her?”
“Not after I told him the full story, no. We won that contract fair and square.”
“Has he confirmed this yet?”
“Hundred percent.” Grace smiled in satisfaction as she eyed the final paperwork on her desk. “Before I left his office today, I got the man and his lawyer to sign on the dotted line.”
“Ah, well done.”
“Yes, indeed. So now, I want you to sue Kat Barnett and her company into the ground. I want her incinerated. ”
“Consider it smoking, Ms. Michaels.”
“Excellent. Keep me posted.”
Grace went back to stand in front of her panoramic wall as she hung up. The storm had passed, and her creative mood had evaporated with it. This little interlude had cost her… But hey, never mind. The Excelsior deal was hers now, officially, and that was the most important thing.
“Ms. Michaels?” Her assistant poked her head back in. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” Grace waved her in.
Libby Jackson was a petite woman on the plump side, with a thick mass of glossy black hair currently arranged in an artful bun on top of her head and intelligent blue eyes. She owned her size and was always splendidly dressed. Today, this meant flare-out black linen trousers with a large silver belt and a fuchsia silk shirt with the top three buttons open. Stylish. On point. Grace reflected that the Excelsior receptionist would probably benefit greatly from spending a bit of time with a woman like her. She watched Libby set a flower on her desk in a multi-colored stained glass vase.
“What is this?”
“It’s a wild orchid, Ms. Michaels.”
“Yes, I can see that.” And a beautiful one too. Three stems, with the center of each delicate white bloom dappled in deep purple. Grace had a weakness for orchids, and this one definitely was a winner. “Who sent it?”
“No one,” Libby revealed with a bit of a shy glance at her. “This is from me.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. Happy birthday, Ms. Michaels.”
Grace blinked. Oh, gosh. “It is my birthday, huh?”
“Yes, indeed,” Libby grinned.
“I totally forgot it was today.”
“I thought it might skip your mind, yes. I know how busy you’ve been with securing this new deal. Congratulations, by the way.”
Of course, being busy was not specifically related to this one deal. If not Excelsior, it would have been another challenge. Grace did not just drive the members of her team hard; she also led by example and was even more ferocious and uncompromising with her own self. Work served another purpose too. The more time she spent focused on business, the less opportunity she had to reflect on the things she missed.
“Thanks, Libby,” she nodded. “This orchid is gorgeous.”
The woman beamed in pleasure. “I am glad you like it. Can I do anything else for you today, Ms. Michaels?”
“Hmm…” Grace glanced at her watch. Could it be six P.M. already? Time sure did fly when you were busy annihilating the competition. “No, it’s okay. You can go if you like. Have a good weekend.”
“You too, Ms. Michaels.”
“And Libby?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for your support during this latest campaign. You were a valuable part of the winning team. I love your outfit today, by the way.”
“Oh, thank you!” Libby flashed a brilliant, if slightly dazed, smile at such an unexpected compliment from her usually tight-lipped boss.
She hesitated and did look for a moment as if she may even attempt to deliver a hug. Luckily, she decided against it. It was well known among her staff that Grace Michaels did not engage in softie-softie interactions. Or waste time celebrating birthdays, for that matter. She was aware of the things people called her when she was out of earshot. A creative genius, for sure. But also cold, intimidating, and aloof, most of the time. Some referred to her as an arrogant, unforgiving, demanding bitch. Grace was not worried about any of it. She supposed that a woman like her, with serious skills, ambition, and a winning attitude, ran the risk of being called a lot of hurtful things. Sometimes especially by less talented, jealous women in her field. Grace had no time for petty jealousies and reflected with amusement that it must be the reason why it was her face on the cover of Time and not theirs. Anyway, bless the lovely Libby for daring to challenge the status quo with her thoughtful gift. As she watched the door close behind her assistant, Grace recalled a time when she actually loved birthdays. And Christmas, too, which was only weeks away now. She employed someone to buy seasonal gifts for the staff closest to her, but she might make an exception this year, and take care of Libby’s personally. Smiling at the idea, she picked up her phone to set a reminder. And almost dropped it. Oh… The sudden tightening in her chest made her gasp. It was immediately painful, and her heart began to race. No, no… God-dammit! As her legs trembled, Grace dropped into her chair and gripped the armrests tightly. Just breathe. Clear your mind and breathe. She squeezed her eyes shut, focused on catching her breath, first of all, and then on taking deep ones. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of her face as she fought to recover. She did manage it eventually, not quick enough for her liking, but it happened. Gradually, her body settled. Like a river out of control, the roaring in her head receded too. It was not long before her anger flared.
“For fuck’s sake! ”
She tried to recall the last time a similar rush of anxiety had caught her unaware. It was at least a full year... So why now? Just because she took pleasure in thinking of buying someone a gift for Christmas? She hated to think she was still not over this stuff. Such a loss of control was unacceptable. Grace swallowed two paracetamol tablets from the emergency stash that she kept in her drawer since even a short episode like this could trigger a debilitating headache later on. Then she did what she did best: ignore the issue, especially thinking about its root cause, and concentrate on some work instead. Twenty minutes later, irritated at her inability to do so, she gave it up. Okay, now what? Dealing with too much energy in her system, probably. She was still pretty revved from the confrontation with Barnett. Also, it was Friday evening on her forty-ninth birthday. She had just won the business deal of the year. Yet, here she was, alone in her office and still hustling. Or trying to, and not faring very well. How ridiculous. Maybe she did deserve a treat, after all?
“Bet your ass I do,” she muttered.
She could have gone to the gym to blow off steam, but it would feel like a chore. No, she had something better in mind for tonight. Switching screens, Grace opened a new window and typed in: www.redencounters.com . Her pulse quickened, in a good way this time, as she entered her login details and watched a familiar greeting flash on the screen: Welcome back, Sky Dancer. No one used their real name when shopping for an escort online, of course, and Grace’s user name was a nod to her former life. She scrolled down the list of profiles until she reached the one she was after. The chance of Magalie being available on such short notice was one in a million, but this seemed to be Grace’s lucky night. She hit the booking button and made her selection from the drop-down menu which appeared .
Platinum package – All night. $2,000. Magalie, also not her real name, was one of the few escorts who could entertain her equally well on the dance floor and in bed. Without hesitation, Grace clicked Confirm.