Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Fucker.
I scroll through my emails to make the most of my time and find the new Torres contract sitting in my inbox. I grin, ready to wrap negotiations and get started on their campaign. The car jolts to a stop, causing me to look up. Bumper-to-bumper traffic. Fuck. “How bad is the traffic ahead?”
The driver looks at me in the rearview mirror. “There’s an accident blocking all lanes.”
“Any way we can detour?”
“You mean us and every other New Yorker with some place to be at eight thirty in the morning?” Despite the chaos this morning, I’m in a decent mood, but I’m not sure it’s good enough to appreciate his sarcasm.
“Yeah, maybe worth a try,” I reply, certain I won’t make the end of the meeting, even if we do find another way around this mess.
He laughs, not bothering to reply. Since we’re not moving at all anymore, I drop it altogether, but I do send another text to Liv:
Stuck in traffic. Be there when I can. Love you.
And then send the same to Leanna to keep her in the loop, leaving off the love part, of course. Even though Liv might be too busy to respond, I expect Leanna to. When she doesn’t, I start to wonder what’s going on. That’s not like her.
I lean over to look out the windshield once more. We’re still not moving, spiking my body temperature. I’m not letting irritation win, so I start reading through the contract to distract myself. At least I can claim I was working. Two pages in and I spot the first issue. Within the first four pages, I’ve highlighted three problems, issues that will backfire on me if I sign these.
In the three months I’ve worked at Bancroft & Lowe, this account is the only one with endless red flags. Why is that? My only theory remains that this was Leslie’s account before Chip was added to it. Leslie left six months later. She was called a spy and rumored to be working for the competition. I’m starting to believe those rumors are lies, and Chip’s the culprit behind this sabotage.
Look what rumors have done to Liv’s career at Bancroft & Lowe. Did they do the same to Leslie’s?
I google Leslie’s name, then read the most recent articles and work my way back to the time when she left. She went to the competition all right. The timeline aligns with what I heard. As for secretly working for them, that story doesn’t appear to match on the surface. She was a star at Bancroft & Lowe and managed their biggest accounts along with Mr. Bancroft. So what went wrong?
I'm not sure I should be doing this, but I find her number online and call. I’m sent straight to voicemail. I leave a message, “Hi, my name is Noah Westcott. I work for Bancroft & Lowe. I’m hoping you can help answer some questions I have regarding an account for Torres Manufacturing. You were running the account, successfully from what I’ve seen, and then were partnered with Chip Lowe. There are some holes I’m trying to fill. Since I was assigned the client, the NDA no longer stands. I'd appreciate a call back if you’d be willing to talk confidentially. Thank you.”
Although I’d wish I could have spoken to her, I’m also not naive enough to think she’d be open to telling me anything negative. I’m sure she’s washed her hands of Bancroft & Lowe and doesn’t want to stir up old ghosts.
I’ve successfully put off the inevitable, but it’s time for me to figure out my next step. I make the call to my attorney, who specializes in corporate law.
“Do you need bail money?” Loch asks without so much as a hello. It’s like we’re brothers or something. Ha! He clearly knows me well.
“It’s Monday morning. Why would I need bail money?”
“It was Monday morning the last time as well.” My brother’s coming in strong with the jokes today.
“That was a joke.”
“What do you mean it was a joke? I wired you a thousand dollars.”
“Oops, about that—”
“Fucking hell, Noah.” His puff of breath fills the phone, and I can imagine he’s rubbing his temple to ease the headache I’m bringing on.
“Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back with interest.” We’ve been moving slowly, but I look out the windshield again as if things are different from that angle. Unfortunately, they’re not.
“I have a better idea.” I like the turnaround in his tone. He says, “Tuesday really wants a baby.”
“Sorry, I’m already in a committed relationship, so I can’t give your wife a baby.”
“Real funny, asshole. Hear me laughing.” Spoiler alert: I did not, in fact, hear him laughing. I still chuckle because that was damn funny. “She wants to babysit Max.”
“As far as paybacks go, I don’t think she understands how babysitting works. Usually the parents pay the person to watch their kid. Not the reverse.”