16. Candice

CHAPTER 16

CANDICE

I 've barely slept in days. Every morning, I come into the office to new voicemails from Aiden, begging me to listen to his proposals, to hear him out. I delete them before I even listen. And every night, I go home and toss and turn and sleep fitfully, drifting in and out of dreams of yelling at him, slamming a door in his face. Being held in his arms.

It's all very disturbing. I don't understand why he won't leave us alone. Isn't it obvious that I'm not interested?

"Rough night?" asks Kelly with a raised eyebrow as I yawn again. We're meeting in my office, an informal kind of catch-up where we can be honest about reality without bringing anyone else down. And reality isn't looking too pretty lately.

I blink and shake my head to try and expel the sleepiness. "Sorry. I'm tired. I am listening, I promise. Spreading the reach of our advertising?"

"Yes," she says, leaning forward in her chair to stare at me, her dark brown eyes boring knowing holes into me. "Maybe we should do this another time, though. What's on your mind?"

Closing my eyes, I sigh hard, frowning with the most contempt I can muster. "Fletcher Tech."

"Still? You told me you turned their offer down."

Kelly isn't exactly happy that I told Aiden no. And she's right, from a purely rational point of view. The boost that being part of Fletcher Tech would bring would save us. Honestly, neither of us are quite sure how much longer the company can keep hanging on without a radical shift. Yes, we're finding success and growing, but hosting webpages and creating advertising and paying the staff, these things all take a toll on the account.

And the returns we're getting aren't as great as we want or need them to be.

I throw up my hands, exasperated. "I did! But he keeps calling."

"And you keep ignoring him?"

She has a wicked glint in her eye, like she's drawing conclusions about the situation that are way off the mark. Knowing her, she's off in some farfetched romantic delusion, when this is nothing like that at all. Aiden is an annoying toad who can't take rejection.

"Yes. I haven't even listened to his messages. I don't want to know."

"You never know what you might be missing," she says, her double entendre not even remotely subtle.

Before I can completely put any wrong ideas she might have to bed, a sharp rap on the door interrupts us. "Come in," I call, straightening up in my chair to look more presentable.

Danna steps into the room — my secretary. She's a stern woman who wears a style of glasses that ages her twenty years. I'm actually not one hundred percent sure how old she is, but her constantly furrowed brow and sucked-lemon expression put her anywhere between thirty-five and sixty.

Today, however, she's departing from her usual grumpiness and greets us with a weirdly conspiratorial smile. "Sorry to interrupt, Ms. Metcalf, but you didn't plan to meet with anyone today, did you?"

I frown, a sudden panic descending that I've forgotten something important. "I don't think so. Why?"

"There's a young man at the desk for you. Says he won't leave until he's spoken to the CEO."

"Tell him I'll be there in a moment."

Danna nods and shuts the door behind her. I have a nasty sensation that I'm not going to like this. Kelly grins up at me, her eyes gleaming with suspicion.

"Shut up," I huff.

She beams harder. "I said nothing."

I roll my eyes and get to my feet. "I'll be right back."

There are very few things that I want to do less than this today, but I've already committed. I walk down the corridor, my heart in my throat as I prepare for what or who might be waiting for me.

I open the door to the reception and my stomach turns. It's not exactly a surprise to find Aiden waiting for me, but I really hoped it wouldn't be him. Worst of all, Danna's eyes are scorching into me even as she tries to pretend to be busy and not watch.

I have to play this one carefully. Don't want to make a scene in front of the staff. Don't want to entertain Aiden for a second longer than I need to.

"Why don't we go to the meeting room?" I say, smiling as politely as I can manage.

"Wonderful," he says, and his smile is genuine. I make a point not to notice.

The second the door shuts behind us and he sits, I let all professionalism vanish. "What the hell, Aiden? You can't show up here like this! I have a job, you know. I'm busy — not that you'd know what that's like, I'm sure. You're lucky I didn't have you thrown out."

"Fletcher Tech is failing," he says, so candidly that it stops me in my tracks.

"What?"

"Fletcher Tech is failing," he repeats, his forehead creasing with worry and tiredness. "My father left it in a bad way, and I'm trying to pick up the pieces. Frankly, I need your help. We're trying to acquire other, smaller companies with big potential, to give us all a boost. And I knew you would be sitting on something special. You always were."

He looks older now — of course he does — but there's a maturity to him that he never had at twenty-one. His jawline has widened, his shoulders broadened, his hair still picture-perfect. We're still young, but his life has changed him since we last met. I guess time changes us all.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Why not go and buy up someone else, then? I already told you no."

"We only have the budget for one merger right now, to be honest. And I want it to be with you. There's no way that Mettie's Marketplace won't succeed."

"Are you buttering me up because you're going to offer a deal I won't like?"

He sighs in confirmation. I fold my arms, waiting for the hit that has to be coming. "Perhaps I am. But before I make it, is there anything I could offer you that would make you reconsider the acquisition?"

I shrug. "Yeah. The amount of money I asked for."

Almost with a groan, he rubs his eyes, drawing attention to the dark circles and fresh wrinkles around them. Has he been sleeping at all ? It's kind of heartening to realize that even the boss of one of the biggest companies in the world gets kept up at night with stress. It's not just me.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that. We don't have it to give."

"Okay," I say, sitting down and staring levelly at him. Whatever he wants to say, I want him to say it looking me straight in the eye. "You have two minutes to explain your new proposal. I'm listening to it as the CEO now. Make it professional."

He nods, pushing his shoulders back as he launches into what sounds like a preprepared speech. "My father has left our accounts and legal constitution in kind of a mess, and all of that means we wouldn't be able to merge with Mettie's Marketplace unless either we were able to buy you out for your full worth, or you gave yourself willingly to us."

I scoff. "No way."

"Exactly," he agrees, trying a smile like he's getting through to me. I haven't decided yet if he is or not. "So we're in a tough position now — we can't buy, and you won't give."

"So…?" I ask. There's a sting coming and I brace myself for it.

He stiffens in discomfort too. "So, we have found a loophole. In our constitution, there's a clause which states that if an owner of Fletcher Tech is in a marital union with another person who also owns another company, then both parties can merge while retaining ownership and legal rights over their assets."

I'm nodding because it all sounds great, but then the words marital union finally click in my mind. " Marriage? " I say, mouth open in disbelief.

"If you were to marry me, we could merge without issue, yes."

"Fuck off," I say, very unprofessionally, then burst out laughing. This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. "This is some kind of sick joke, right?"

Slowly, he shakes his head, his mouth a firm line of discomfort. "No. The benefits are enormous, if you'd consider it beyond a personal reaction."

"You want me not to have a personal reaction to you proposing to me?" I slam my palms on the arms of the chair, the harsh sound echoing around the room as I stand. "You've had your fun, Aiden. Now get out until you have a real suggestion for me. Or better yet, don't even bother coming back."

He rises too, then opens his bag to pull out a crisp, white envelope. "This is real. Here is the proposal." I scoff as he places it in front of me. "At least read it. Please?"

Once, those gentle puppy-dog eyes might have worked on me, but I'm too astounded to fall for it now. Marriage! I can't believe the nerve.

"Get out. Now. I won't ask again."

He doesn't protest further. Instead he picks up his bag and walks away, turning back once to look at me before he leaves. His eyes shine with an emotion I can't place, something between want and sorrow.

As soon as I'm sure he's gone, I laugh again, a little too hysterically. I ought to throw the envelope away. Burn it, even. But, as if my hands are possessed, I pick it up and tuck it under my arm.

I shouldn't even be considering this; it's utterly stupid. So why can't I bring myself to toss it away like I know I should?