Page 68 of Perfect Satisfaction

I pause and look over my shoulder. That’s when I enjoy watching the impact of my words when I inform him haughtily, “I already do. Welcome to my home. Feel free to explore anywhere except my suite.”

With him gaping, I lift one foot and slide my heel off, then the other before turning on bare feet and heading into my suite.

On the other side of the door, I slump against it, my bravado leaving my body in a rush. I contemplate briefly if JB would authorize me adding a wet bar to my suite. Then if I happened to claim I collapsed from fatigue at my desk, I’d never have to leave.

Ever.

At least for another three hundred and sixty-four days.

CHAPTERTHIRTY

Brendan Blake and Beckett Miller just announced plans for their world tours on the same day.

Maybe it’s just my business-oriented brain, but did anyone else notice there is not one but five separate occasions where they appear at the same venue?

Yes, I bought VIP tickets to those shows. I don’t care if I have to hop on a twenty-four-hour flight to Australia to see them. It’s going to be worth it.

I wasn’t raised stupid. Foolhardy perhaps, but definitely not stupid.

—Moore You Want

Eventually a burgeoning headache and hungerdrive me from my room a few hours later after I’ve had conference calls with Australia and New Zealand. That’s before Brendan told me of his and Beckett’s plans via text.I don’t care—whatever it takes. You’re coming.

Agreeing just so I could get back to work, I didn’t even write the dates down. I just have a sticky on my monitor reminding me to get them in my calendar. Then I pull up short and send him a quick text while I’m yelling at JB.Wait, did you say one of the concerts is at Wembley?

Brendan’s reply is instant.Yes. And no excuses. You will be there.

Just tell me it’s not until this nightmare I’m living in is over.

Plenty of time, Sula. It’s one of the last shows.

Then I’ll use it to celebrate.

Too exhausted to text one brother while I have the other on speaker, I ignore Brendan’s repeated pings to continue debriefing JB. “No, what you don’t understand is we’re riding the edge of the critical path as it is. You have no slack to make this up, Joshua.”

“This is absolute crap, Sula. The schedule more than accounted for concerns.”

“Well, it didn’t account for a supplier’s ship being hijacked off the coast of Somalia,” I snap.

“I know,” he groans.

“What’s more important? People or profit and so help me God, if you say profit, I’m hanging up this phone and you can ride this project to the ground on your own.”

“You know bloody well I would never say that. We’re just going to have to offset somewhere to absorb the bloody fines.”

“If we soften the blow now, we may be able to adjust the task order under the act of God clause. It’s better than dropping this on them at the last minute. Under promise, over deliver,” I remind him. I reach into the refrigerator and grab an orange and some yogurt.

Then I spin around and gasp because Arek’s right behind me. His face is thoughtful.

“Listen, Joshua, I have to go. Send me what I need and I’ll call Singapore in a few hours to negotiate. They’re going to be the biggest pain because they haven’t even had the chance to test yet.”

I hear his fingers clatter as he does what I ask. “It’s in your inbox. Be sure to eat.”

“It’s why I’m hanging up. Good night.”

“Night, love.” Arek’s expression hardens at the endearment.

Before he can add to my already existing stress level, I plead, “For the love of all things, can you give me five bloody minutes to down some food and a couple of paracetamol? I have a ridiculous headache from being on calls all afternoon.”