Honor

Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

R eid

Any curiosity I had about where Miss Starling was this past weekend has been buried under the unraveling deal we tentatively had in place with the Bogners.

They called Baden late last night to tell him they aren’t sure we have the same vision they do for the future of the bowling alleys.

Our vision is clear.

We’ll spruce them up by bringing the interior décor into this decade. We’ll reduce the hourly cost for walk-ins looking to bowl a game since the Bogners have raised their prices repeatedly over the last several years, chasing away families who saw the bowling alley as their Friday night escape from the pressure of work and school.

Adding better refreshment choices and an entire area devoted to video games will quickly increase revenue.

Baden hurriedly put together the outline for how to transform the business going forward. Since the price of purchasing the enterprise and the cost of improvements is well within the scope of what Baden wanted to spend, I trust our profit will be impressive when we go to sell to a nationwide chain.

I spent the bulk of the afternoon and evening yesterday with Baden and the Bogners tweaking the deal.

We broke for sleep at midnight, but I’m set to meet them all in the atrium in an hour to continue our discussion.

At this point, I’m ready to give up on this and move on to something that will prove just as profitable and half as stressful.

“Oh, you’re here,” Miss Starling’s voice comes at me as I stare out of one of the expansive windows of my office. “I didn’t expect you to be here yet.”

I turn to look at her.

If she ran off to some locale that is known for sun and sand, she missed out. She’s not sporting a tan.

She does have a smile pasted on her face. I glance at that before my gaze drops to her dress. Some people might classify it as plain, but the color is lilac, and it plays off the speck of purple that dots her right iris.

She steps toward me with a coffee in hand. Her smile fades as soon as she spots the one on my desk. “You like your coffee to be on your desk by nine. It’s five minutes to.”

I can’t tell if she’s reminding me of my morning routine or trying to ward off a dose of anger from me.

“I came in early,” I tell her. “I stopped to pick up my own coffee.”

That brings the smile back to her red lips, and since that’s the best sight I’ve seen in days, I say something to keep it there a bit longer. “I’ll be grabbing a cup of coffee on my way in every morning going forward.”

Her mouth falls open. “Really?”

Her reaction would be warranted if I just announced that I’m upping her pay by twenty percent. All I’m doing is saving her a trip to the café down the block.

“Really.”

She glances at the cup in her hand. “Do you want this one, sir, or can I have it?”

The hope in her voice isn’t lost on me. I know she regularly fills her ceramic mug with the sludge that is brewed in the break room. The coffee she picks up for me is made with freshly ground organic beans and prepared to just the right temperature. A small splash of cream is the only addition I like.

“It’s yours.” I stare at her. “Enjoy.”

“Oh, I will,” she says before she takes a taste, leaving a very faint imprint of her lipstick on the plastic lid. “This is so good.”

“Reid.” Baden appears behind my assistant. “I need a minute.”

Evie glances over her shoulder. “Hi, Baden.”

“Hey!” He tosses her a wide smile. “How was the trip?”

“Magical,” she answers with a sigh. “It was the best weekend of my life. Thank you again for approving my time off.”

“Not a problem,” he says in a rush. “Anytime.”

I’d argue that point with him because I don’t want my assistant to think she can disappear for days at a time on a regular basis. She gets three weeks of paid vacation a year. That’s more than enough time away from here.

“I’ll leave you two to talk.” She steps around Baden. “If you need anything, please let me know.”

“We might need a miracle to save this deal.” He laughs. “Otherwise, we’re good.”

“Don’t promise her more time off,” I warn as soon as he’s closed the door. “I need her here.”

“You want her here,” he counters. “You did just fine without her.”

He’s right about the second part. I’m not sure his first statement holds true, but I let it slide.

“I want this deal done today, Reid.” He sits in one of the visitor chairs facing my desk. “I think we need to offer the Bogners more money to wrap this up.”

I think he may be right. I suspect they’re playing hardball, but I can do the same. “Let me talk to them alone. If I can’t reach an agreement with them this morning, we’ll consider that.”

“You want time with them alone?” A nervous chuckle escapes him. “Why?”

“You want this too much.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t. It’s a trio of rundown bowling alleys. I don’t want it that much.”

I lean against the corner of my desk, so I’m facing him. “It’s not the bowling alleys you want. You want that nice older couple to retire in Florida. You want to fund their lifelong dream.”

He slumps back in the chair, his hand jumping to tug on the knot of his tie. “They’re good people, Reid.”

I don’t doubt that, but our offer is generous, so I need to swoop in and remind the Bogners that they won’t find another firm willing to take this type of risk on their business. If left to their own devices, I can’t be sure they’d be able to retire to anywhere anytime soon.

The way they’re running their business now is barely sustainable. It hasn’t been moving in the right direction for years.

I lean forward to pat his knee. “Give me until noon.”

He glances at the screen of his phone. “Fine. You need to text me at noon with an update. If you haven’t made any headway, we’ll offer more money.”

That won’t happen. I’m as sure of that as I am of my name.