Billion Dollar Beast - Olivia Hayle Page 0,8

that around if we’re to get rid of the inventory and assess their production value.”

I give a nod and open the binder carefully. “And Nick will see me this afternoon?”

“Mr. Park will, yes.” She pushes away from the desk. “I’ll let you get settled in. Tomorrow we visit the closest store.”

And that’s all the introduction I get.

But as I dive deeper into the documents I’ve been given, it’s not hard to see the structural flaws of the business. Their retail model is dated; no online store, no shipping. The clothes they’re selling are of good quality, and they’re preppy, but they’re plain. There’s no clear branding. There’s no logo.

No wonder they’re struggling.

I’m so deep into research that I barely hear the knock on the door. It’s Miles, Nick’s assistant—I recognize the glacial voice immediately.

“Mr. Park will see you now.”

I push away from the desk and deliberate for a moment over whether to bring the binder. Miles sees me considering and gives a faint sigh.

“Bring it,” he says, turning on his heel and striding down the corridor without checking if I’m following.

Okay then. Nick’s company probably doesn’t score highly on the “employee satisfaction” index, but then again, I hadn’t expected it to with him as the founder.

His office is on the other side of the complex. For a moment, I amuse myself by imagining him instructing Gina in the placement of my desk. I don’t care where she is, but make sure she is as many feet away from me as possible. Yes, I want you to measure it.

Miles stops outside a closed door and presses down on the button of an intercom. “Miss Porter is here for you.”

“Send her in.”

I grin at Miles, hoping to draw out some form of response from him. All the employees here can’t be ice-men. “Thanks for escorting me here,” I say brightly.

He gives me a narrowed glance, as if he can’t quite figure out my game, and pushes the door open. Oh well. I’m sure I’ll wear him down eventually.

Nick is standing by a window, his back to me. The only one I’ve never managed to wear down with my charm. The door closes behind me. Locked in with the beast.

“Lovely office you have here,” I say. “The mood seems to be somewhere between a slaughterhouse and a prison. I can’t decide which I’m leaning toward more.”

Nick doesn’t turn. Dressed in black suit pants and a dark shirt, sans jacket, he looks… impressive. I know he’s trying to rattle me by not speaking—by not looking at me.

I hate that it’s working.

“Cole told me it was your idea to hire me. I’m guessing that was somewhat of a white lie, but I’ll go along with it if it’ll make your life easier.”

Nick shrugs, his wide shoulders rising and falling once. “Believe what you like,” he says, “as long as you’ll do the job I’ve hired you for.”

At that, my hackles rise. Have I ever suggested otherwise?

“So far, all I know is that it involves evaluating B.C. Adams as a business.” I take a seat opposite his desk, ignoring the fact that he’s also ignoring me. “I’ve been given a file about their financial information. That’s all I know. Care to fill me in?”

Nick turns to look at me. There’s still nothing in those dark eyes of his—he’s capable of looking so cold, so still, like someone carved him from marble with too rough a hand. I sit still under the hawk-like gaze.

“And?” he says. “Do you think you can do it?”

“Yes.” I pour more confidence into the word than I feel. “But I want you to tell me the truth about last weekend.”

Impossibly, he grows even more still. “Last weekend?”

“Mr. Adams? B.C. Adams? I’m not an idiot. That was why you were there. You used my presence and my name for this deal.”

Nick strides to his desk, pulling out his chair with one smooth motion. “And?”

“And that means I helped you close this deal.”

He snorts. He actually snorts. “Not in the least. It was basically signed and sealed before.”

“So you’re saying you played cornholes with me voluntarily?”

His eyes narrow. “Fine. You’re right on both counts. They had doubts, and seeing me as a person with friends, especially famous and well-liked friends, helped. Does that change the current situation in any way?”

“Not in the least,” I say brightly, “but I very much wanted to hear you say it.” I look away from the fire in his eyes to the binder in front of me. “Now, will