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Heated Takeover

Page 15

by Mia Mara

“Not at all,” he rambles. “We were just discussing how fortunate we are to have you as the new CEO. It’s not every day you get to work with Marc–”

“And you are?” I snap. I don’t tolerate a kiss-ass.

“Garrett. Griffin,” he says, holding out a hand. I don’t take it.

“So, which is it? Garrett or Griffin?”

He blinks. “It’s Garrett Griffin. I’m the director of operations and technical production–”

“If you’re the head of anything, why are you standing at the back of the room?” I ask and he swallows.

“I was just talking to–” he stutters, and that’s when I realize there is a woman standing behind him. She’s short enough and still enough that she’s practically blending into the wall.

I wave my hand to Garrett or Griffin or whatever his name is, gesturing him to move out of the way.

He does, and that’s when I see her.

So she does work here still. Interesting…

“Hi,” Natalie says. She looks a little different than she did five years ago. She is more put together, has a little more shape around her hips, and her hair is longer…though still in the same braid. She is still very much her. The girl from the Ferris wheel.

Garrett snorts. “Jesus. Sorry Mr. Ashford. Some of us don’t know how to address our bosses, it seems. This is Natalie Bl–”

“I know who she is,” I cut him off.

“Of course,” he says, and I can’t believe he has the audacity to keep talking. I’ve done my homework on the employees at Mission Events. I know that this joker is the husband of the other Blythe daughter. If I had to guess, I’d be stirring the already boiling pot if I kicked him to the curb. “Natalie is the lead event planner. Though she usually kind of just hides in the background. Literally, as you can see,” he chuckles, and my eyes dart to his, his grin falling to the floor at my scowl.

“You know, Griffin. Not everyone has to be loud to be seen,” I state simply, and there are a few sharp breaths in the room.

Then I look back at Natalie.

“Lead event planner,” I state.

“Yes, sir,” she nods.

The last time we spoke, she was new to the company. I knew her dad was smart enough to place her where she’d flourish. Of course, she’s still lacking in the confidence department. That is something we can work on over time. Right now, I need air. Rarely do I cut a meeting short. Rarely does the tension in a room have the ability to make me feel suffocated. But it’s not the misunderstanding with the staff. It’s not the hostile response to me taking over Jim Blythe’s position.

It’s Natalie and my apparent struggle to remain composed in forced proximity with her.

So I walk out.

Chapter 7

Natalie

The moment I get in my car and peel out of the parking lot into the city, I am on the phone with my father, who luckily for my nerves answers on the first ring.

“I know, honey, I know. I should have been there today. But honestly, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it,” he tells me. It’s weird hearing him like this. My dad, though not an overly stern man, usually has a quiet confidence about himself, an influential assuredness that people know and respect. It’s like he can work a room all while being the boss that people know they can talk to. It’s why they respect him. It’s why Mission Events has done as well as it has. It’s why all of this is absolute bullshit.

“I guess I just knew that my position was no longer mine and despite no longer being the owner of the house, I wasn’t ready to hand over my keys yet, if that makes sense to you.”

“It does,” I say. “I guess what doesn’t make sense is how or why? I mean, I did not know anything with Mission Events was changing.”

“Honestly, it was kind of a quiet thing for a while. There were rumors that someone on the inside, someone with shares in the company, was looking to sell those shares. Independent shareholders can do that. But when the rumors started to spread about it, I just assumed that the shares would be sold back to us. And that Janice would take care of it.”

Janice was the accountant for Mission Events for seventeen years, but about eight months ago, she retired. I’m kind of surprised because she was only 58. But I guess when you work for a man like my father, you can afford to retire early. None of us ever questioned it, and the new accountant, Carla, does just fine from what I know.

“And she didn’t?” I ask. “Take care of it, I mean.”