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Diane had already gone to lunch by the time Charlie and I were done. She and I parted ways on the street in front of our building with an agreement that I’d call her after I’d had time to think.
I walked two blocks to get myself a sandwich for lunch and returned to the office. The patio beckoned as the right place to puzzle out my solution to the two problems Bradley and now Charlie had brought up.
Charlie’s words swirled in my head as I took the first bite. “A woman who would be welcome at your mother’s dinner table, somebody with class—not your usual bimbo social climber.”
She’d been clear that rehabilitating my personal reputation was both paramount and doable. I set my phone on the table and scrolled through my contacts as I ate.
By the time I’d gotten to the end, my conclusion was sobering. There were only three women in my entire list of contacts that remotely fit her criteria as non-bimbo and dinner-with-the-family worthy. And I’d received wedding invitations from each of them, so my net pool of candidates was now zero. Coming face to face with the realization of my type was not pleasant.
I wasn’t actually that shallow. I just attracted that type and preferred to avoid entanglements, so those were the women who didn’t mind my kind of arrangement, at least going in. I treated them to the fine life, and we had fun. I never promised them anything more. When I broke up with them, though, they always cast me as the bad guy for not being the long-term sugar daddy they’d wanted.
This was not going to be easy.
CHAPTER6
Evan
The next morning,I’d gone through my contact list a dozen times and still not come up with a candidate to ask out who might be a suitable longer-term girlfriend.
Charlie’s partner arrived at ten, as promised, and I put my list away, planning to take the challenge back up after lunch.
Apparently public-relations types didn’t believe in suits. Bradley Jenkins sat across from me, a white handkerchief corner protruding from the pocket of his navy blazer and one ankle perched on the a knee of his perfectly pressed gray slacks.
“And how exactly do I accomplish that?” I asked.
He’d explained that Dad had contracted his firm to help me improve the company’s image, and so I was stuck with him. But so far none of his answers had been concrete. No surprise there. His firm was paid by the hour, so it didn’t matter to him how long it took, but my job was on the line here.
He recrossed his legs, perching the other ankle on the opposite leg. “No need to be defensive, Evan.”
I was already regretting my suggestion that he use my first name.
“Your question is rather on point.” He gave me a nod. “A receptive press is the most important tool. Who do you know in the media? Any media—it doesn’t matter, print, radio, Internet, television? You had aForbesarticle last year, didn’t you?”
He thought I had time to schmooze people who blabbed for a living. I didn’t. I spent the appropriate few seconds looking thoughtful. “I don’t have any friends in the media. The writer who did theForbespiece wouldn’t be any help. He doesn’t like me.” It had taken three sittings to finish the interview after I kept getting interrupted by real work.Discourteouswas the word he’d used to describe me on the phone to his editor—his polite way of calling me an asshole.
I didn’t often bother with polite. I may have also mentioned that I considered the interview to be a waste of my time, which it was. I was buying companies, not running for office. I’d only cooperated because Dad had insisted.
Jenkins made a point of writing a note. “Getting a cooperative ear will be my action item.” He looked up. “Including when you make progress with Charlie and have something positive on the relationship front.”
I counted it as a major victory that dealing with the press didn’t fall to me. But he’d saidwhen, rather thanifI made relationship progress, which triggered a question. “How successful is Charlie in that department?”
“One-hundred percent, if you finish the process. You do what she says, and I handle the spin. It’s a piece of cake.”
“Do people drop out and not finish?”
“They get kicked out by Charlie for not obeying the rules. Just do what she says, and everything will go smoothly.”
Note to self: don’t piss off Charlie.
“Let’s get on to the corporate side of this. Outside of cleaning up your image, your part will be create something newsworthy for the company.”
“Help me here, Bradley. Definenewsworthy.”
“Out of the ordinary. McAllister International needs to have an impact, make a statement, do something noteworthy.”
“Like donate to breast cancer research, sponsor a golf tournament to benefit homelessness, or maybe add a wing to a hospital?”
“No.” He made a note. “And no, and no.” He likely considered me dumber than a rock. “Everybody donates to breast cancer research; that’s nothing special. Golf could work, but a bunch of rich guys playing a game at a lush, green country club seems like you want to stay as far from the homeless as possible. Plus, setting up a tournament would be a next-year event at the earliest.
