Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“We can take the meeting without promising them anything.” She exhales loudly. “Can you at least give me that, Greer? If you hate the offer, I won’t press it.”
I don’t believe her, but if this is what it takes to get her to drop the idea of selling our business for now, I nod. “What day and time is this meeting?”
“Next Wednesday morning at ten.” A soft smile spreads over her lips. “Just meet me here at nine. I’ll handle our transportation to and from the meeting. You don’t have to do anything but show up.”
“I won’t agree to sell,” I warn her with a stern look.
Nodding slowly, she tucks a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “You agreeing to go to this meeting means everything to me.”
I glance at the floor and the worn sneakers on my feet. They once belonged to Celia. I borrowed them from her a few weeks before she died. I couldn’t bear to donate them or throw them out, so I wear them to feel closer to her.
“I’m only agreeing to the meeting, Krista,” I say, stressing each word. “I hope you understand that.”
“I do.” She scrubs both hands over her cheeks. “I need to get out to New Jersey.”
Since that’s where our production facilities are, I nod. She has a lot of work to tend to there today. All I hope is that she gives it the attention it needs.
“I love you, Greer,” she whispers. “I truly do.”
I cross the space to wrap my arms around her. “I love you, too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Holden
I thank the man working at the bodega around the corner from my office. He’s one of the few people in this city who doesn’t give me a perplexed look when I pick up a newspaper.
I’m well aware that the news of the day is just a swipe away on my phone, and I admit that’s where I get the majority of my information. Still, I have an ulterior motive for carrying a newspaper folded under my arm on my way into the building that I spend the majority of my time in each day.
I remember fondly the vision of my grandfather arriving at Carden with a newspaper tucked under his arm. He always wore a sharp suit in a color I’d never be caught in. I’ll never forget what he looked like in a canary yellow suit with a bright blue button-down shirt with a wide collar under the jacket. My favorite suit of his was mint green with white stitching.
My grandmother hated it. She literally cringed whenever he wore it, but Carrick Sheppard knew exactly how to make her smile even when he was dressed in a way she abhorred.
I’d never attempt to mimic his fashion sense, but the newspaper under my arm is a tribute to the man who started this business with his beloved wife. It’s given me a life I never dreamed possible.
“Glasses again?” my brother asks as I near where he’s standing outside the building.
I’ve worn my contact lenses multiple times since I left East Hampton, but glasses have their benefits. They always garner second looks from our employees when I pass them in the corridor or board the elevator with them.
I ignore the question and take the coffee he offers me. “Thanks, James.”
“I should be upfront about that.” He chuckles. “Consider the coffee a bribe. I want us to buy this company, Holden.”
He’s made his interest in Sweet Indulgence abundantly clear to me. It’s so clear that I’m not going to fight him on this. I looked over the financials one of the owners provided to him. It’s a solid investment for us, especially since the storefront on Chelsea is prime real estate and their lease for the next year and a half is part of the deal.
We’ll rebrand it as a Carden location and make it work better for us than it has for the current owners.
With the right amount of attention and thoughtful marketing, acquiring this company can be a win for us. I can feel it, and my intuition is rarely wrong.
“Krista and Greer will be here at ten,” he tells me.
“Krista and Greer?” I question.
He shoots me a look meant to convey his frustration with me, but it falls flat because he adds a smile to it. “The owners of Sweet Indulgence, Holden. Try to keep up.”
“Right.” I nod.
Other than the financials, I haven’t conducted a thorough review of the files he sent me regarding the business he wants to acquire. He’s the one who handled all the legwork. All I need to do is show up for this meeting.
“Let’s get inside.” He starts walking toward the lobby door of the building that houses our offices. “Drink the coffee. I don’t want you falling asleep mid-meeting.”
I punch his shoulder. It’s hard enough to sting, but light enough to make him laugh. “Don’t be an asshole, James.”