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Authors: Z.L. Arkadie

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BOOK: He's So Bad
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“Are you a perfectionist?” I ask.

She shakes her head but says, “Yes.”

We laugh, but when the laughter simmers down, we’re left with awkward silence. I feel good though.

“Have a good night,” I say.

“You mean morning,” she says.

We smile at each other. Fuck, we’re having another moment. I break eye contact by gazing at the rafters.

“I’ll see you in the meeting at nine,” I say.

Carter kick-starts her bike, and the engine blasts. “Wouldn’t miss it,” she says over the purring.

She puts on her helmet. I raise a hand to say good-bye. She returns the gesture and zooms off. I watch until she’s out of sight.

O
nce I make
it back to the hotel, I only have three and a half hours to sleep before I have to head back to the office. I set the alarm on my phone, strip off my clothes, and lie on the bed. My mind is way too active to get any shut-eye. It’s jammed with thoughts of Grace, Zoe, the financial reports, and my plan to avoid a common disaster. From what I’ve gathered, the company has been losing clients because the quality of work has suffered because projects have been divvied out unfairly and not according to architects’ strengths. I feel Grace has something to do with the shabby way the company has been run. Ralph has been letting her get away with bloody murder. Why do I feel so uncomfortable about what I have to do at this morning’s meeting? I’m not sure how my changes will be received. I’ve learned that people hate change, but Kennedy Creative is my stallion to ride. Everybody needs to know it’ll be run the way I see fit.

M
y cell phone alarm chimes
. I sit up and rub my eyes. I didn’t even realize I had fallen into a deep sleep. My head’s woozy. I could use a fifteen-minute snooze, but there’s no time. I put on a pair of jeans and a crisp shirt. Yesterday I was the only person in the office wearing a suit. I like the current laid-back culture, and I want to become acclimated to it. Room service knocks on the door to bring my breakfast. I like that they’re prompt.

Exhaustion bears down upon me, but I allow my motivation to energize me. I scarf down the eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast. I drink the entire carafe of coffee and head out. I take the lack of heavy traffic as a sign that this morning’s meeting will be productive. I make it to the complex, park, and hurry into the building. It looks as though everyone is here, and the tension is thick. I say good morning to inquisitive faces as I walk down the aisle to my office. Pinched by curiosity, I turn toward Carter’s desk. The light is out, and she isn’t in yet.

“Robert,” Zoe sings.

I look to the left, and she’s right beside me as if she came out of nowhere. “Morning, Zoe.”

“Do you need help prepping for the meeting?”

“Yes, please,” I say.

“Do you need breakfast?”

“No.”

“Coffee?”

“No. Just your smiling face.” I can’t believe I said that.

She blushes, and one of the female workers who heard what I just said widens her eyes. That reputation of mine is like the plague. I fight the urge to hide inside my own skin and beat myself up for putting myself in a position where I look like a cad.

“Go to your desk. I’ll send you an email. I want you to print some information before the meeting starts,” I say.

“I’ll be waiting,” Zoe says and scurries away.

I think she’s still blushing. The days when I could be flippant about my interactions with the opposite sex are over. I have to watch myself, or I could be facing a sexual harassment suit.

I get to my desk and email Zoe a list of thirty-three vendors. I need her to make sure the outstanding balances owed to each are paid from an account I’ll have finance set up by the end of the day. I let her know that no requests are to be sent to the vendors until contracts are renegotiated. I also have her contact a headhunter I know in New York. It’s time to restructure the departments, hire some new department heads, and make this company run like a well-oiled machine. My reign at Kennedy Creative has officially started.

The Girl with the Red Metallic Motorcycle Helmet

G
rumbling
erupts in the conference room. I’ve just laid out my immediate plan for change, which includes switching architects for just about every active project. I’ve created teams with the five best architects as the new senior architects who will oversee the projects assigned to them. There’s been too much autonomy, which is why spending has gone through the roof.

“Glad to get that out of the way,” I say, referring to the complaining.

I’ve learned from Vince that when there’s hostility in the room, the person in charge should never open the floor up for questions. He controls the reins from beginning to end.

“Warren, David, Rose, Justin, and Carly, meet me in my office directly after this meeting,” I say.

Zoe, who’s sitting in the front, makes a noise to get my attention. “You mean Carter.”

I whip my gaze to Carter’s face. “Right. And Carter.”

Carter breaks eye contact to stare into her lap. A face from the past comes to mind. That girl had longer and lighter hair. They bear some resemblance to each other, but it has been almost two decades since I’ve seen Vince’s cousin Carter. They can’t be one and the same. Could they? My peripheral vision catches a hand that goes up in the air. I had lost my train of thought, but I quickly find it.

“If you have any questions, shoot me an email, and I’ll try to address your concerns.”

Grace chuckles bitterly. She had been sitting so quietly that I forgot she was in the room. I expected her to give me flak from the moment I opened my mouth.

“You can’t fire a machine gun and not receive return fire,” she says.

The suspense is thick in the air. I don’t practice referring to a woman as a bitch, but in this case, it would be true.

“Actually, I can,” I say specifically to Grace, then I address the varied expressions in the room. “As I said, if you have something to say, then email me. If I don’t respond, then you can at least know that you’ve been heard. I’m investing my time and my capital in this company. Last month, there were eight layoffs. A few of your best colleagues were let go. I’m going to pursue the talent we lost, but I’m also going to make sure that we are solid. You leave how that’s going to occur to me. All I need is for each of you to do your best work, from operations all the way to design staff. My plan will work, people. Kennedy Creative will be back on top in no time. If you want to be part of the rise, then it’s your decision, but you make that choice today. Tomorrow, you’ll be working in your teams, and each team will be assigned specific support staff.”

I gauge their reactions. No one appears more pissed off than Grace. I end the meeting, and all systems are a go. I start by meeting with the five principal architects. I avoid looking for signs of Carly in Carter. Instead, I ask them all if they’re on board and ready for the hard work to come. I’m glad to hear that they’re all in.

For the first week, I pull late nights and early mornings, bringing structure to the company. I reform the residential and corporate departments and create a new industrial department. I interview possible new hires for my management team. I’m in nonstop meetings with the most difficult clients who are resistant to change. By week two, Jack Lord agrees to meet with me. I use his in-depth knowledge of residential and corporate development to strengthen our vendors list so that we can get quality products at the best price.

“It looks different around here,” Jack says as he examines the hustle and bustle beyond my office windows.

“By the way you’re grinning, I would say that’s a good thing,” I say.

Jack laughs. “I knew you could pull this fucking place out of the ashes.”

I want to ask Jack how in the hell he knew that. I’ve been the fuck-up owner of A&Rt Media for as long as I could remember. Instead I say, “Thanks for your confidence in me.” I sigh and lean back against the backrest of my chair. “I have to say, this is exactly what I needed.”

I catch a glimpse of Carter walking past my office. I’ve tried to ignore her for the last two weeks. This morning, she arrived without her motorcycle helmet. She’s had lunch with Matt Franks, one of the architects on her team, three times this week. I’ve tried to not let their association bother me, but I can’t help it. I’m attracted to her. But she’s my subordinate, so there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ve resisted the desire to call Vince and ask about his cousin Carter. If she is
the
Carter that I couldn’t stop calling Carly, then I don’t know what the hell I’ll do. However, I’m not ready to reach out to Vince, not yet.

“Anyway, how’s A&Rt post RT?” I ask.

Jack tosses his head back and laughs. “The same as it was during RT.”

I snicker. “Right.”

He fills me in on his wife, Daisy’s, pregnancy. She’s not well. Then he mentions that Maggie has been living in his house in Malibu.

“With Vince?” I ask.

“They’ve broken up,” Jack says.

That revelation hits me like a two-by-four upside the head. I want to shrink in my seat. I know I’m the reason they’re apart. I’m resolved on my decision to win back Vince’s friendship. The next time I see Vince, I want him to believe that he can trust me. The steady diet of no pussy, no marijuana, and no whiskey or cigarettes has done me good. If all I had to do was work like a fire ant, then I could’ve kept my libido under wraps long before now.

Jack and I say good-bye, and I get back to work. Zoe does a good job of keeping my calendar updated. The only hours that I have free are for lunch. When I consult my calendar, I see that I have a meeting with Carter and a client from Bounty Mountain Resort in ten minutes.

I push the butt of my pen up and down as I think. It wouldn’t take long for me to make a quick call to Allie and ask what Carly, I mean Carter, is up to these days. I make a split-second decision, take out my cell phone, and call her.

“Robert?” Allie says.

“Hey, Allie,” I say.

“What the hell have you done?”

I’m taken aback by her tone. I also realize that she’s not going to let me keep the call short and sweet. “Hey, your cousin Carter, what is she doing these days?”

“Huh?”

“That’s all I wanted to ask you.”

Zoe knocks on the window and points at her watch. I shout a string of curse words in my head.

“What’s going on with you and Vince?” Allie asks.

Vince always keeps personal business away from his sisters. They’re nosy as hell and equally judgmental. They never liked Maggie because she’s not the kind of woman they pictured him with. That’s why they practically shoved their friend Emily Callahan, who’s perhaps the most boring woman on the planet, on top of his dick, hoping she had what it took to make him forget about Maggie.

I sigh out of frustration. “Shit, Allie, I have to go. Call me back and leave a message.”

“A message about what?”

“Your cousin Carly.”

“Carter.”

Zoe knocks on the window and points at the clients, who are walking into the conference room.

I shoot to my feet. “Allie, just call me back and leave a message.”

“She’s in San Francisco,” she says in a rush.

I fall back into my seat and massage my temples. “She wouldn’t happen to be an architect, would she?”

“Yes, she’s an architect. I think… yes, she is.”

“Did she cut and color her hair?”

Allie snorts, and I can picture her rolling her eyes. “She went through a rebellious phase. I think she’s over it. I’m not sure. Lexie had lunch with her in San Francisco last month, and she said Carter’s still riding that motorcycle. Why do you ask?”

I feel as if the wind has been knocked out of me. “No reason.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Tango. Are you screwing with her?”

“I got to go,” I say.

“Tango—”

I hang up.

Now that I can no longer delude myself, I allow myself to see the resemblance between the Carter of today and the Carly of yesteryear. Fuck, she
is
Vince’s younger cousin. I look at Zoe, and she’s staring at me. Her face has turned red. I show her the thumbs-up and slowly rise from my seat. When I walk out the office, Zoe pushes the meeting packet into my hands and follows me to take notes. Behind that smile of hers is a shitload of anal-retentive traits; one of them is being on time for meetings. Last Wednesday, she had a panic attack at a stoplight because we were five minutes late for an off-site meeting.

The door to the conference room is open. I step aside to let Zoe pass, and Carter and I lock eyes. She looks more tired than usual. Like the other principal architects, she’s been working around the clock. However, I now understand why she looks at me the way she does. She has been waiting for me to recognize her.

I shake the clients’ hands. “Nice to meet you, April and Celia.” The two women are building a yoga and spa retreat in the Santa Barbara hills.

April and Celia shoot each other a look as they shake my hand.

“Wow, you’re handsome,” Celia says.

April gives me a smoldering look. “Very handsome.”

Carter rolls her eyes.

Carter

C
arter knew her clients
, April and Celia, would make eyes at Robert Tango. Every woman in the office had a crush on him. Carter had tried to downplay the fact that he was gorgeous, sexy, and competent, which made him even sexier. In a matter of two weeks, he had changed everyone’s opinion of him. The chicks wanted to marry him, and the guys wanted to be his disciples. But Carter had a sneaking suspicion that Robert Tango had no idea he was quickly becoming a demigod for pulling Kennedy Creative out of the ashes.

Robert grinned at the clients and Carter. “So I’m sure Carter has been a great benefit to you.” He took a seat beside her.

“We’re not sure Carter shares our vision,” April said.

Carter wanted to scowl at her, not because April had thrown her under the bus but because she didn’t forget to bat her eyelashes at Robert in the process.

He opened the meeting packet and carefully scanned each page. “Carter has drafted six different blueprints for you. You initially went with plan number 3645, but three months later, you asked to make adjustments.”

“Right,” April said with a bite.

Carter avoided the desire to roll her eyes. Ever since she started working with April and Celia, they’d been a problem. They didn’t respect her knowledge and had been trying to figure out how to be assigned a new architect without outright asking for a man to handle their project. Carter saw them as the kind of women who felt feminine power was in the figure, face, and pussy, not the mind.

“These plans are solid, but I understand that you want to build a healing pool where the foundation has already been poured and the structure framed,” Robert said. “Did Carter explain that the contractors had difficulty with the foundation and what had to be done to stabilize it?”

“Yes, but it’s not hard to tear it all down and put a hole in the ground.”

Robert spread the plans on the table. “Actually, what you’re asking the builders to do is pretty difficult and very expensive.”

“I understand, but without the natural pools, our resort will be like any other hippie, orgy, bird-food destination that’s stuck in the woods,” Celia said.

Robert chuckled, and Carter cringed. Strangely, the fact that Celia could make him laugh made Carter jealous. The emotion alarmed Carter. She had convinced herself that she had gotten rid of the schoolgirl crush she’d had on him.

“By the way, when the resort is up and running, you have lifetime access,” Celia said now that she had him on her hook.

Robert looked at Carter with a hint of a smile, then he winked at Celia. “Thanks for the offer.”

Carter knew it was time to say something in her own defense, but her head was floating from the look he had just given her. “I tried to present another blueprint, but”—she threw up her hands—“they didn’t want to see it.”

“We thought six was enough,” April said snobbishly.

Carter felt like accusing April and Celia of making her job hard because not only was she a woman, Carter was an attractive woman. If she looked like Beavis, then they would have been kissing the ground she walked on. Her team had done superior work for them. Construction had had no problems implementing the plans. Appliance and fixture deliveries had been on time and installed without difficulty. The clients had purposely thrown challenges at Carter from the beginning, and she had answered every one of them.

“Do you have it?” Robert asked Carter.

“We don’t need another blueprint,” April said. “Just tear the fucking thing down and put in the healing pool.”

“It’s right here,” Carter said.

Robert grimaced at Carter’s shaking hands when she handed him the blueprint.

Celia looked at April with panic. “We were thinking we needed fresh eyes.”

“Did you know that Carter is one of our best, if not the best architect, we have on staff?” Robert looked up from the drawing. His gaze shifted between the two clients.

“Well, that’s great but—” April said.

“But she hasn’t made one mistake on this project. She’s given you everything you’ve asked for until you requested the outlandish. But even then, she figured out a creative and inexpensive way to give you what you asked for.”

He handed the blueprint to Celia, and Carter took an inward sigh of relief. Ralph would’ve never stood up for her like that. Ralph believed in giving the client what they wanted no matter what. He would’ve assigned a man to their account, and that guy would’ve presented Carter’s work to Celia and April. Then they would’ve dubbed him a genius.
The bitches
.

Celia reluctantly scanned the blueprint. “I don’t understand this.”

“Well, then, we’ll help you,” Robert said.

He called them all to the table and asked Carter to explain the addition, which she gladly did. Thirty minutes later, the clients had accepted Carter’s fix and agreed to pay for it. Robert also made them agree to make no more changes. On the way out, April and Celia shook Robert’s hand, flipped their hair, and grinned like crushing schoolgirls. It was clear that they weren’t going to say good-bye to Carter, so she gathered her meeting materials and headed for the door behind Zoe.

BOOK: He's So Bad
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