I HOPE YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GETTING
YOURSELF INTO
"Yes! Yes!" Juliet Carson ground her hips hard into him as she released her orgasm through her teeth, flipping her long, dark waves out of her face.
"Oh, fuck, yeah!" He growled in response. From underneath her, he gripped her hips firmly and bucked his pelvis hard into her, releasing himself with a string of profanity that almost flattered her.
She rocked her body gently on him in an effort to cool down and catch her breath. "I needed that," she breathed, wiping back the hair that had stuck to her brow.
"Tell me about it," he responded. "You're something else, you know that?"
"That's what I hear," she murmured as she crawled off of him.
"Hey," he objected, lifting his head to sit up in the bed. "Where are you going?"
"Busy day tomorrow," she replied, collecting her clothing from the floor.
"Come on," he said, his tone laden with disappointment. "You said you would let me take care of your--"
"I'm plenty taken care of, it's okay."
"But licking pussy is what I specialize in. I love that shit."
Juliet slid her dress on over her head and collapsed in the armchair by the bed to buckle the straps on her heels. "To be honest, I expected that to happen before I fucked you, but it's fine. I got off, not a problem. Don't worry about it."
He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. Then he said, "What woman doesn't want her pussy licked?"
"Plenty do," she stated matter-of-factly as she finished with her shoes and leaned over to retrieve her purse from the floor beside the chair. "Myself, included. But it's not necessary tonight, thank you."
"Come on, just let me do it. You've got the prettiest pussy I've ever seen. You can leave your dress on."
She stood and smoothed out her dress as she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. "I appreciate the compliment. I do have a pretty pussy, I'll agree with that. But the moment's gone and I already got off. You were a good lay, take solace in that."
"So that's it, you're just gonna leave?"
"I told you, busy day tomorrow."
"Unbelievable," he muttered. "Well, at least let's plan for next time."
"Next time?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Next time."
"Look, hon. I had a lot of fun tonight. But I don't date and I don't make commitments. Let's just leave it as it is and agree we had a good time. Okay?"
She didn't give him a chance to answer before she was out the door. Hell, no, was she going to let him go down on her. Juliet Carson laid on her back, or submitted in any way, for no man and she wasn't about to start. It didn't matter how talented he thought he was or how much she knew she would enjoy it. She got off on her own terms and her own terms only.
Juliet was one of the most powerful women in New York City. Carson Innovations was one of the most well-known interior and exterior design firms in the region, spanning New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, and Pennsylvania, with a little of their work displayed in Las Vegas, as well. As of the present, Juliet had her eyes on a contract with a brand new resort in Florida. It would be a payday and exposure like no other.
Juliet had no problem with money, however. Money bought her everything. Money bought her breasts, her fingernails, even her sexual satisfaction when she despised the thought of human contact. Juliet controlled her entire life. Wine flowed freely, designer clothes came in droves, and men were disposable. She never needed anyone or anything but herself--and Beth, her best friend and business partner
She owned a condo on the Upper East Side. Decorated by her hand, it looked completely the opposite of anything her company designed. While her company specialized in modern and trendy designs, Juliet preferred to fill her home with antiques and warm colors. She liked to come home to a world that was different than what was outside her front door. Home should be an escape--a safe haven, somewhere to go to get away from the stresses of everyday life.
Stepping into her home after her short-lived date, Juliet smiled and took in a breath. It was good to be home. It was always good to be home. The only person who had ever been in her home was Beth, and only Beth. No man came to pick her up, no man slept in her bed, no man left his scent or his shoes in any undesirable place in her home. At home, she was free. She was safe.
*************
A week later, Juliet's five-hundred dollar heels clicked loudly across the floor, Beth Knight meeting her halfway as she warmly echoed the choruses of "good mornings" as she walked briskly though the lobby of their Manhattan office. "Purple. Nice," Beth commented, looking down at Juliet's feet.
Beth's skin was unusually tan in the chill of the early autumn air. Her wavy, ombre hair and her blindingly white smile mixed with her knock-out super model body made her look like she was entirely on the wrong coast. Her high-waisted pencil skirt and sleeveless blouse sure didn't scream "Autumn in New York!" either. It was no wonder that she had, yet, another boyfriend to introduce Juliet to.
"I like purple," Juliet replied as they walked to her office. "Are you making fun of me?"
"Absolutely not. They're fun and they're sassy and they're kinda exactly what you need right now."
Juliet scoffed as she opened her office door. "What I need?"
Beth followed her into her office and closed the door behind her. Barely out of her coat and into her desk chair, Beth was already plopping the newspaper down in front of her. "Have you seen this?"
"What is it?" Juliet asked as she opened it up.
"Flip to the editorial."
Making her way through the paper, she was a bit put off to see a large, paparazzi-style photo of herself sprawled across the page she stopped on. It was the night she'd gone out with the journalist--then rode him hard and hung him out to dry, much like she did all the other men. "That sniveling little bastard," she muttered as she skimmed the article. "I told him it wasn't serious from the start. I was very clear with him."
"Did you get to the part where he called you heartless, soulless, uncaring, and ruthless?"
Juliet sighed, exasperated, as she forced the paper down on her desk. "I told him I only wanted to fuck him. That was it. I said it before, I'll say it again, I was very clear."
"Apparently he didn't get the memo, because the article is full of all of that. And the comments on the online version aren't much better."
"Well, what the hell am I expected to do here, Beth? Is he pissed because he didn't get his dick sucked? Am I supposed to go back and suck his dick to make this all go away? Because I won't do it. I will never get on my knees for a man as long as I live."
"The damage is done now. No amount of dick-sucking is just gonna make this vanish out of every paper in New York City. You'll just have to save face another way."
"How?"
Beth's grin was much too giddy. "Throw a party. In your condo."
"Have you lost your fucking mind? I will not let complete strangers have their way with my home."
"Make it a low key party. Invite some key community members. We'll, you know, stage a picture or two or something. People need to see that you do care and that you are a good person. I mean, I know you are. But it's bad business if your reputation precedes you."
Beth was right and Juliet knew it. Opening her home would show how generous and inviting she was. Beth had said the magic word--business.
"Fine," Juliet pouted. "When? I have a busy schedule."
"Soon," Beth replied, a bit too enthusiastically. "I'll get right on it and give you the details."
Shoving the paper out of the way, Juliet was desperate to get to work and change the subject. Sliding her small reading glasses on her face, she flipped through her date book. "What's happening with Miami?"
"Sarah spoke to the assistant this morning. The hotel owner has a halt on the project right now."
"Halt on the project? What the hell does that mean?" She paused and she sighed. "This really is getting to be too much. It's constantly one thing right after the other. If I didn't want this account so bad, I'd say screw this whole deal. I can't work so unorganized like that. What else? What's in your hand, there?"
"A portfolio for Reynolds Construction. They've been asking for a meeting for...well, apparently quite some time now."
"For what?" She asked as she reached for the folder in Beth's hand.
"Our new office building."
"Right...if that ever gets done."
"Don't be a pessimist, this company is your baby. It'll happen. These Reynolds guys seem to do good, quick work."
"They'll just have to wait in line behind everyone else. I'm being extra meticulous about this one and there's already a company that I've taken quite a liking to."
"It's a decent portfolio," Beth offered, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "They seem to at least be competent. Much better than the last contractors we used. That was a nightmare."
Juliet shook her head at the memory. Carson Innovations had designed a restaurant for a private owner and Beth, the company's architect, had labored and labored with the contractors because something kept getting lost in translation between the floor plans and the actual construction of the building. After many hours and a delayed schedule, there was finally a breakthrough and the project was finally completed, with a glorious final product, much to Beth's and Juliet's relief. But they had vowed to never go through that nightmare again, so picking contractors to put up their new office building was a task neither woman was willing to take lightly.
"I know we've meaning to go check out properties T&K have done. I'm really liking what they have to say and their references are solid--"
"Yet, Reynolds has been blowing up our phones. I say we should at least find an opportunity to hear them out."
"Do they have a website?"
Beth shook her head. "I haven't found one."
Juliet sat back in her chair and shook her own head in disbelief. "I don't want some mom and pop company in charge of our building. This relocation is supposed to stick--for life."
"Just because they don't have a website doesn't mean they're not talented."
Juliet scoffed. "It absolutely does. They apparently can't get the work to pay a web designer to help promote their business. If they can't pay a web designer, then that means that nobody wants to contract them out and that is apparently because they do shitty work." She handed Beth the portfolio back, not having cracked the binder. "Let's just take our time checking out T&K for right now."
"If you say so," Beth replied regretfully. "But they're not going to give up."
"They will eventually," Juliet reassured her. "They will."
________________________________________________________
Eric Reynolds was supposed to be in a meeting. Actually, he was in a meeting--he had just found himself distracted by his computer screen. His eyes darted up at his brother and their uncle now and then, but he couldn't tear himself away from the article he was reading.
Nobody knew about Eric's secret crush on Juliet Carson. Thankfully, his brother and his friends had long since forgotten the way he'd crashed and burned trying to meet her in a restaurant several months earlier, Eric being none the wiser of her name or reputation. Since then, however, he couldn't get enough of her. It was unhealthy, he knew, how he fawned over her the way a teenaged girl would fawn all over her favorite pop star but Eric couldn't help himself. He was completely fascinated and turned on by her.
The article in this morning's New York Times disturbed him. He was well aware of Juliet's reputation among men in Manhattan, but he chose to remain in denial of the validity of the rumors. It was impossible that someone who spent her spare time giving thousands of dollars and countless personal hours to local animal shelters and childrens' homes could be as heinous as the hearsay said she was. And if she really was, why did the men keep dating her?
The author described his date with her. Nothing spectacular. Dinner, drinks...and how clear and explicit she was about where the night was not going and then where it was. He had slept with her. She'd taken him on a wild ride and beyond, he'd said. But when they'd finished, he wanted to prolong the evening and she was having none of it. He wrote that she treated him like a dog, belittling his manhood, and then leaving him alone in his bed. He then went on to call her such things as ruthless, selfish, and cold.
The one thing Eric could never say he'd heard was that she was bad in bed.
Still, the article infuriated him. The author was being an unfair prick. He had just said she told him what she expected. The way Eric saw it, it was the author's fault for expecting more. As a matter of fact, the entire article seemed like nothing more than an overgrown temper tantrum and in completely bad taste to publicly humiliate her that way. He couldn't imagine what she must be feeling right now.
The people who weighed in on the comments section were just as brutal and nasty, especially the women. Eric had no idea that Juliet was so negatively received by the city's general public--especially since he knew how well-respected she was in the business world.
He was contemplating a personal response to the article, in defense of her, when his brother's voice snapped him out of his trance. "I don't know about that," he was saying. "If they haven't budged or made room for us already, I don't see it happening."
"We're running out of time," their uncle said. "For all we know, they have another company lined up already, but there's no word on it, yet, so that leads me to believe there's still a chance to get our foot in the door. Do you have any idea what this Carson account would do for us?"
Suddenly, Eric was alert. How was he not in this conversation? "Carson account? What Carson account? Carson who?"
Both his brother and his uncle looked at him as if he had three heads. "Son, where have you been during this conversation?" His uncle asked.
"Uh," he stalled, scrambling for a sufficient answer. He hated when his twenty-seven years showed their colors like this. "I'm sorry, I was, um, looking over some figures," he said as he quickly clicked the New York Times web page closed. "Can you start over?"
Their uncle sighed as he adjusted himself in his chair. "I found out roughly six months ago that Carson Innovations wants to relocate their offices and they're looking at a building in Greenwich that they want to tear down and rebuild from scratch. Word has it that Juliet Carson, herself, is sitting on her own design for it. I didn't want to excite you boys with this account and get your hopes up until I nailed it, cause the truth is, constructing a Carson Innovations design could put Reynolds Construction on the map--"
"Not that we're not already on the map," Eric's brother corrected.
"Right. But damn if getting a meeting with that woman isn't impossible. I've had Kim on that account every single day with not a thing to show for it, yet. I'm tempted to fold, but my gut really wants this account."
Eric stared at his uncle, seething. He knew how big a deal it would be for them to partner with Carson Innovations. He also knew that had he been informed of his uncle's intentions ages ago, that would have been his ticket to meeting his dream girl and by now they could have--
"Eric, you okay?" His brother asked. "You look flushed..."
"I'm taking a moment," he answered through his teeth. Then he took a breath and spoke calmly. "Why would you sit on an opportunity like that and not tell us about it?"
"Why have you not tried to pursue it, yet?" He retorted.
His uncle's answer didn't help his mood. "Is this one of Dad's little tests? It reeks of him."
"Nope," his uncle replied, adjusting his blazer. "Not a test at all. My question still stands, though."
"I'll handle the Carson lead from now on. I want everything you and Kim have on it. It's no longer either one of your concerns."
"Excuse me? That is my work, I've been on that lead since--"
"And nothing has happened with it in the six months you've been on it. Dad wants me to run this company, well, here I am, running the company. I'll personally handle the Carson lead from now on."
"You realize that if you actually manage to get a meeting with her, you're gonna have to play some serious hardball..."
At that, Eric smiled. "I'm not worried about that. We're good at what we do, our work will speak for itself. All it takes is the right attitude. In the meantime, have Kim do some refreshers on our portfolio. Make sure I sign off on it before it goes to the printer."
"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, son," his uncle muttered.
On the outside, Eric radiated optimistic confidence. On the inside, however, he'd never been more terrified in his entire life.
YOURSELF INTO
"Yes! Yes!" Juliet Carson ground her hips hard into him as she released her orgasm through her teeth, flipping her long, dark waves out of her face.
"Oh, fuck, yeah!" He growled in response. From underneath her, he gripped her hips firmly and bucked his pelvis hard into her, releasing himself with a string of profanity that almost flattered her.
She rocked her body gently on him in an effort to cool down and catch her breath. "I needed that," she breathed, wiping back the hair that had stuck to her brow.
"Tell me about it," he responded. "You're something else, you know that?"
"That's what I hear," she murmured as she crawled off of him.
"Hey," he objected, lifting his head to sit up in the bed. "Where are you going?"
"Busy day tomorrow," she replied, collecting her clothing from the floor.
"Come on," he said, his tone laden with disappointment. "You said you would let me take care of your--"
"I'm plenty taken care of, it's okay."
"But licking pussy is what I specialize in. I love that shit."
Juliet slid her dress on over her head and collapsed in the armchair by the bed to buckle the straps on her heels. "To be honest, I expected that to happen before I fucked you, but it's fine. I got off, not a problem. Don't worry about it."
He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. Then he said, "What woman doesn't want her pussy licked?"
"Plenty do," she stated matter-of-factly as she finished with her shoes and leaned over to retrieve her purse from the floor beside the chair. "Myself, included. But it's not necessary tonight, thank you."
"Come on, just let me do it. You've got the prettiest pussy I've ever seen. You can leave your dress on."
She stood and smoothed out her dress as she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. "I appreciate the compliment. I do have a pretty pussy, I'll agree with that. But the moment's gone and I already got off. You were a good lay, take solace in that."
"So that's it, you're just gonna leave?"
"I told you, busy day tomorrow."
"Unbelievable," he muttered. "Well, at least let's plan for next time."
"Next time?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Next time."
"Look, hon. I had a lot of fun tonight. But I don't date and I don't make commitments. Let's just leave it as it is and agree we had a good time. Okay?"
She didn't give him a chance to answer before she was out the door. Hell, no, was she going to let him go down on her. Juliet Carson laid on her back, or submitted in any way, for no man and she wasn't about to start. It didn't matter how talented he thought he was or how much she knew she would enjoy it. She got off on her own terms and her own terms only.
Juliet was one of the most powerful women in New York City. Carson Innovations was one of the most well-known interior and exterior design firms in the region, spanning New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, and Pennsylvania, with a little of their work displayed in Las Vegas, as well. As of the present, Juliet had her eyes on a contract with a brand new resort in Florida. It would be a payday and exposure like no other.
Juliet had no problem with money, however. Money bought her everything. Money bought her breasts, her fingernails, even her sexual satisfaction when she despised the thought of human contact. Juliet controlled her entire life. Wine flowed freely, designer clothes came in droves, and men were disposable. She never needed anyone or anything but herself--and Beth, her best friend and business partner
She owned a condo on the Upper East Side. Decorated by her hand, it looked completely the opposite of anything her company designed. While her company specialized in modern and trendy designs, Juliet preferred to fill her home with antiques and warm colors. She liked to come home to a world that was different than what was outside her front door. Home should be an escape--a safe haven, somewhere to go to get away from the stresses of everyday life.
Stepping into her home after her short-lived date, Juliet smiled and took in a breath. It was good to be home. It was always good to be home. The only person who had ever been in her home was Beth, and only Beth. No man came to pick her up, no man slept in her bed, no man left his scent or his shoes in any undesirable place in her home. At home, she was free. She was safe.
*************
A week later, Juliet's five-hundred dollar heels clicked loudly across the floor, Beth Knight meeting her halfway as she warmly echoed the choruses of "good mornings" as she walked briskly though the lobby of their Manhattan office. "Purple. Nice," Beth commented, looking down at Juliet's feet.
Beth's skin was unusually tan in the chill of the early autumn air. Her wavy, ombre hair and her blindingly white smile mixed with her knock-out super model body made her look like she was entirely on the wrong coast. Her high-waisted pencil skirt and sleeveless blouse sure didn't scream "Autumn in New York!" either. It was no wonder that she had, yet, another boyfriend to introduce Juliet to.
"I like purple," Juliet replied as they walked to her office. "Are you making fun of me?"
"Absolutely not. They're fun and they're sassy and they're kinda exactly what you need right now."
Juliet scoffed as she opened her office door. "What I need?"
Beth followed her into her office and closed the door behind her. Barely out of her coat and into her desk chair, Beth was already plopping the newspaper down in front of her. "Have you seen this?"
"What is it?" Juliet asked as she opened it up.
"Flip to the editorial."
Making her way through the paper, she was a bit put off to see a large, paparazzi-style photo of herself sprawled across the page she stopped on. It was the night she'd gone out with the journalist--then rode him hard and hung him out to dry, much like she did all the other men. "That sniveling little bastard," she muttered as she skimmed the article. "I told him it wasn't serious from the start. I was very clear with him."
"Did you get to the part where he called you heartless, soulless, uncaring, and ruthless?"
Juliet sighed, exasperated, as she forced the paper down on her desk. "I told him I only wanted to fuck him. That was it. I said it before, I'll say it again, I was very clear."
"Apparently he didn't get the memo, because the article is full of all of that. And the comments on the online version aren't much better."
"Well, what the hell am I expected to do here, Beth? Is he pissed because he didn't get his dick sucked? Am I supposed to go back and suck his dick to make this all go away? Because I won't do it. I will never get on my knees for a man as long as I live."
"The damage is done now. No amount of dick-sucking is just gonna make this vanish out of every paper in New York City. You'll just have to save face another way."
"How?"
Beth's grin was much too giddy. "Throw a party. In your condo."
"Have you lost your fucking mind? I will not let complete strangers have their way with my home."
"Make it a low key party. Invite some key community members. We'll, you know, stage a picture or two or something. People need to see that you do care and that you are a good person. I mean, I know you are. But it's bad business if your reputation precedes you."
Beth was right and Juliet knew it. Opening her home would show how generous and inviting she was. Beth had said the magic word--business.
"Fine," Juliet pouted. "When? I have a busy schedule."
"Soon," Beth replied, a bit too enthusiastically. "I'll get right on it and give you the details."
Shoving the paper out of the way, Juliet was desperate to get to work and change the subject. Sliding her small reading glasses on her face, she flipped through her date book. "What's happening with Miami?"
"Sarah spoke to the assistant this morning. The hotel owner has a halt on the project right now."
"Halt on the project? What the hell does that mean?" She paused and she sighed. "This really is getting to be too much. It's constantly one thing right after the other. If I didn't want this account so bad, I'd say screw this whole deal. I can't work so unorganized like that. What else? What's in your hand, there?"
"A portfolio for Reynolds Construction. They've been asking for a meeting for...well, apparently quite some time now."
"For what?" She asked as she reached for the folder in Beth's hand.
"Our new office building."
"Right...if that ever gets done."
"Don't be a pessimist, this company is your baby. It'll happen. These Reynolds guys seem to do good, quick work."
"They'll just have to wait in line behind everyone else. I'm being extra meticulous about this one and there's already a company that I've taken quite a liking to."
"It's a decent portfolio," Beth offered, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "They seem to at least be competent. Much better than the last contractors we used. That was a nightmare."
Juliet shook her head at the memory. Carson Innovations had designed a restaurant for a private owner and Beth, the company's architect, had labored and labored with the contractors because something kept getting lost in translation between the floor plans and the actual construction of the building. After many hours and a delayed schedule, there was finally a breakthrough and the project was finally completed, with a glorious final product, much to Beth's and Juliet's relief. But they had vowed to never go through that nightmare again, so picking contractors to put up their new office building was a task neither woman was willing to take lightly.
"I know we've meaning to go check out properties T&K have done. I'm really liking what they have to say and their references are solid--"
"Yet, Reynolds has been blowing up our phones. I say we should at least find an opportunity to hear them out."
"Do they have a website?"
Beth shook her head. "I haven't found one."
Juliet sat back in her chair and shook her own head in disbelief. "I don't want some mom and pop company in charge of our building. This relocation is supposed to stick--for life."
"Just because they don't have a website doesn't mean they're not talented."
Juliet scoffed. "It absolutely does. They apparently can't get the work to pay a web designer to help promote their business. If they can't pay a web designer, then that means that nobody wants to contract them out and that is apparently because they do shitty work." She handed Beth the portfolio back, not having cracked the binder. "Let's just take our time checking out T&K for right now."
"If you say so," Beth replied regretfully. "But they're not going to give up."
"They will eventually," Juliet reassured her. "They will."
________________________________________________________
Eric Reynolds was supposed to be in a meeting. Actually, he was in a meeting--he had just found himself distracted by his computer screen. His eyes darted up at his brother and their uncle now and then, but he couldn't tear himself away from the article he was reading.
Nobody knew about Eric's secret crush on Juliet Carson. Thankfully, his brother and his friends had long since forgotten the way he'd crashed and burned trying to meet her in a restaurant several months earlier, Eric being none the wiser of her name or reputation. Since then, however, he couldn't get enough of her. It was unhealthy, he knew, how he fawned over her the way a teenaged girl would fawn all over her favorite pop star but Eric couldn't help himself. He was completely fascinated and turned on by her.
The article in this morning's New York Times disturbed him. He was well aware of Juliet's reputation among men in Manhattan, but he chose to remain in denial of the validity of the rumors. It was impossible that someone who spent her spare time giving thousands of dollars and countless personal hours to local animal shelters and childrens' homes could be as heinous as the hearsay said she was. And if she really was, why did the men keep dating her?
The author described his date with her. Nothing spectacular. Dinner, drinks...and how clear and explicit she was about where the night was not going and then where it was. He had slept with her. She'd taken him on a wild ride and beyond, he'd said. But when they'd finished, he wanted to prolong the evening and she was having none of it. He wrote that she treated him like a dog, belittling his manhood, and then leaving him alone in his bed. He then went on to call her such things as ruthless, selfish, and cold.
The one thing Eric could never say he'd heard was that she was bad in bed.
Still, the article infuriated him. The author was being an unfair prick. He had just said she told him what she expected. The way Eric saw it, it was the author's fault for expecting more. As a matter of fact, the entire article seemed like nothing more than an overgrown temper tantrum and in completely bad taste to publicly humiliate her that way. He couldn't imagine what she must be feeling right now.
The people who weighed in on the comments section were just as brutal and nasty, especially the women. Eric had no idea that Juliet was so negatively received by the city's general public--especially since he knew how well-respected she was in the business world.
He was contemplating a personal response to the article, in defense of her, when his brother's voice snapped him out of his trance. "I don't know about that," he was saying. "If they haven't budged or made room for us already, I don't see it happening."
"We're running out of time," their uncle said. "For all we know, they have another company lined up already, but there's no word on it, yet, so that leads me to believe there's still a chance to get our foot in the door. Do you have any idea what this Carson account would do for us?"
Suddenly, Eric was alert. How was he not in this conversation? "Carson account? What Carson account? Carson who?"
Both his brother and his uncle looked at him as if he had three heads. "Son, where have you been during this conversation?" His uncle asked.
"Uh," he stalled, scrambling for a sufficient answer. He hated when his twenty-seven years showed their colors like this. "I'm sorry, I was, um, looking over some figures," he said as he quickly clicked the New York Times web page closed. "Can you start over?"
Their uncle sighed as he adjusted himself in his chair. "I found out roughly six months ago that Carson Innovations wants to relocate their offices and they're looking at a building in Greenwich that they want to tear down and rebuild from scratch. Word has it that Juliet Carson, herself, is sitting on her own design for it. I didn't want to excite you boys with this account and get your hopes up until I nailed it, cause the truth is, constructing a Carson Innovations design could put Reynolds Construction on the map--"
"Not that we're not already on the map," Eric's brother corrected.
"Right. But damn if getting a meeting with that woman isn't impossible. I've had Kim on that account every single day with not a thing to show for it, yet. I'm tempted to fold, but my gut really wants this account."
Eric stared at his uncle, seething. He knew how big a deal it would be for them to partner with Carson Innovations. He also knew that had he been informed of his uncle's intentions ages ago, that would have been his ticket to meeting his dream girl and by now they could have--
"Eric, you okay?" His brother asked. "You look flushed..."
"I'm taking a moment," he answered through his teeth. Then he took a breath and spoke calmly. "Why would you sit on an opportunity like that and not tell us about it?"
"Why have you not tried to pursue it, yet?" He retorted.
His uncle's answer didn't help his mood. "Is this one of Dad's little tests? It reeks of him."
"Nope," his uncle replied, adjusting his blazer. "Not a test at all. My question still stands, though."
"I'll handle the Carson lead from now on. I want everything you and Kim have on it. It's no longer either one of your concerns."
"Excuse me? That is my work, I've been on that lead since--"
"And nothing has happened with it in the six months you've been on it. Dad wants me to run this company, well, here I am, running the company. I'll personally handle the Carson lead from now on."
"You realize that if you actually manage to get a meeting with her, you're gonna have to play some serious hardball..."
At that, Eric smiled. "I'm not worried about that. We're good at what we do, our work will speak for itself. All it takes is the right attitude. In the meantime, have Kim do some refreshers on our portfolio. Make sure I sign off on it before it goes to the printer."
"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, son," his uncle muttered.
On the outside, Eric radiated optimistic confidence. On the inside, however, he'd never been more terrified in his entire life.