Lord of Rain (The Dragon Demigods #5) - Charlene Hartnady Page 0,8
have three people doing one person’s job or when they’re top-heavy. Or both, in this case. There is no doubt in my mind that at least fifteen percent of the remaining staff will need to be terminated and replaced before the end of the month due to poor performance.
No excuses.
No prisoners.
It’s the only way. Three months and B&H will be breaking even. Give me six, and it’ll be thriving.
Change.
It’s a simple concept. You can’t expect to see change without implementing it. Otherwise, you’ll get what you always got. B&H is no different. I push thoughts of my latest acquisition aside.
I check my email. Seventy-eight have landed in my inbox in the last half an hour. I sigh and pick up the phone to dial my PA, remembering almost too late that she walked out on me last week. Janet up and left after eight years of service. It feels like I lost a limb. She handled most of the mail. All of the admin. She screened calls. Ran errands. She ran my fucking life.
To make matters worse, there’s a knock on my door. Who the fuck would dare come up here unannounced? They’d better have a good reason.
“What?” I growl.
Emily Lewis walks into my office. Her heels clack on the gleaming marble floor. She throws a newspaper onto my desk. “We won’t even talk about what’s trending on Twitter or blowing up every social media site in general. Who the hell is she?”
“Fuck!” I growl.
“Fuck is right. This is a PR nightmare.”
“It’s not how it looks.”
“It looks bad.” Emily folds her arms and glares at me. I will only hire someone on my direct team if they can stand up to me. There aren’t many. She points at the paper. “Who is she?”
“That’s the hostess at the Olive Branch. She was telling me that my table was ready. Look at my face…I don’t look happy. I hate it when randoms touch me.”
“At seventeen, this ‘random’ happens to be underage. She’s holding onto your bicep and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. At least that’s how it looks, and it looks bad, Bolt! What am I saying? It looks absolutely terrible. You already have a shitty reputation.”
“The hostess from the restaurant I frequent told me that my table was ready.”
“She told you in the shell of your ear…really?” My Public Relations Manager narrows her eyes and folds her arms. “Looks like more to me.”
“She told me my table was ready. Fuck…look at my goddamn face.” She also told me that she wanted to sit on my dick. Pity the photographer didn’t publish what happened next, namely my scowl, my hands going up into the air, and my step back. “For the record, I made my displeasure clear to the hostess. I date women, Emily…always women. I’m not into teenage girls. Fucking hell!” My stomach rolls at the thought. “I can’t believe you would even think such a thing.” The paparazzi are bastards. All of them! Ever since I made it into some top ten most eligible bachelor list a month or two ago, they’ve been on my case a whole lot more than normal.
“I know you would never go there, but it’s not what I think that counts. It’s the public perception that counts. I had the restaurant owner issue a formal apology to you. Turns out the hostess is his niece. He insists he never knew she was underage and that he was doing her a favor. They have had to let her go, they could get into serious trouble for hiring a minor.”
“Good,” I growl.
“Back to your earlier comment about only dating women. And you date women? ‘Date’ being the operative word here. Really?” Her brows go up, and her arms stay folded across her chest. “I’m assuming that you use that term loosely, because there have been quite a few women over the years, Bolt. It’s like your bedroom has a revolving door.”
I rub a hand over my face. “Do we need to go over this again?”
She makes a noise of frustration. “Yeah, yeah, you don’t want to settle down or have kids. You make my life and my job, almost impossible, you know that don’t you?”
“That’s why I pay you the big bucks. Now do your fucking job.”
She pushes out a heavy breath. “I’ll take care of it.” She picks up the paper. “You need to lay low for a while. No dating anyone. Are we clear?”
“I haven’t been dating. I haven’t dated anyone in ages.” Months