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“You know exactly what I mean, you little—”
“Ah-hem.”
Both men turn to look at me. Oh shit, why did I open my mouth? Ugh, I know why. ’Cause I didn’t want to hear Chase get chewed out. Like he isn’t a grown-ass man capable of dealing with his angry father. I fight hard not to roll my eyes at myself.
“And just who are you?” Stan asks, obviously not impressed as his hard gaze rakes over me from head to toe.
I look down at my chic, Moore’s assembled outfit. Joke’s on him if he finds fault with my attire.
“Campbell King, Mr. Moore.” I stride across the Persian rug on my new Jimmy Choos, arm outstretched. “I’m the owner of King Marketing, here to develop your new social media campaign and consult with overall marketing strategy.”
Ignoring my offered hand, Stan turns back to his son. “Social media campaign? Are you serious with this crap?” He gestures in my direction, and I can’t tell if ‘this crap’ refers to the campaign or if I’m somehow included.
I’m pretty sure Chase is thinking the same thing as his expression blanks out again, and he stands.
“Watch yourself, old man.”
Silence.
I can’t see Stan’s face, but Chase’s remains hard.
Mouth firmly closed, I fight my need to fidget, hating the silence.
Stan loses the weird, macho staring contest he has going on with his son by turning to me. “Angelica, is it?”
Really? Misremembering my name? Such a cliché dick move. “Actually, it’s Campbell. Campbell King.” I don’t offer him my hand again, but I totally deserve another pair of Jimmy Choos for keeping the disdain out of my voice.
“And just what do you think you can bring to the table that five of my most loyal managers can’t? Hmmm?” He snorts. “Five managers that this one”—he thumbs over his shoulder to his son— “fired today.”
Chase opens his mouth, but I stop him with a look. No man needs to save me. Especially when my business intellect is questioned.
I raise one eyebrow, matching Stan’s condescension. “Why, customers, of course.” His eyes narrow, and I maintain eye contact. “It seems you’ve been lacking them lately.”
Chase coughs back a laugh.
“Think this is funny, do you?” Stan turns his disgust back toward his son. “Fire the men who can actually keep this place running and hire a nice rack to waste money on social media?” Stan snorts again. Calling him the devil may have been giving the man too much credit. Between his nasal noises, belly, and red face, he looks more like one of those personified pigs from Beatrix Potter. “Seems like something you’d do.”
Chase’s fists clench, and though his anger is almost palpable, his expression remains calm. I realize he doesn’t trust himself to speak.
Taking a breath, I walk over and right the overturned family portrait on Chase’s desk before fluttering my lashes at Stan, now only inches away. “Better than a bunch of swinging dicks with carpal tunnel and inflated paychecks.”
Both men’s jaws drop. Then Chase starts chuckling again, which turns into a full-out guffaw. Stan just turns a deeper shade of red.
“So nice meeting you, Stan.” I’m proud to have kept my parting words civil. “Chase, we’ll have lunch another time. I’ll see you tomorrow for our scheduled meeting.”
He frowns a moment before glancing at his father and sighing. “Tomorrow, Ms. King. Can’t wait.” He winks.
Stan starts to bluster and stutter, probably trying to think of something nasty to say. Before he can, I walk my nice rack out of the room.
* * *
Chase
“Even when you’re in charge of the whole damn company, the only thing you focus on is bedding a hot piece of ass disguised as a businesswoman, huh? Where’d you find the foul-mouthed woman? On that porn site you’re so proud of?” Stan eyes the door Campbell just closed a moment longer before piercing me with his next set-down. “I don’t know why you can’t be more like Thomas. He’d never hire a woman like that.”
“That’s rich considering the only reason I’m here and have made these changes is because of Thomas and his desire to have nothing to do with the company.”
Cue Stan’s nostril flaring.
