The Mogul and the Muscle - Claire Kingsley Page 0,44
I clawed my way to the top, making enemies along the way. I didn’t sleep my way to the top either.” She side-eyed me.
“I wasn’t implying that you did. Why don’t you tell me how you ended up as CEO of Spencer Aeronautics.”
“It’s kind of a long story.”
“I have time.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “After college, I got a job with a company that made parts for commercial jets. It was stable, and a decent place to work, but I hated it. There was no creativity or innovation. Most of my job was trying to find ways to save money on materials without impacting safety. I can’t imagine I made enemies there. I was just a young engineer, and I left on good terms.”
“What did you do after that?” I wasn’t just interested in hearing more for the sake of figuring out who might be after her. I wanted to know everything about her. How she’d become who she was. This woman fascinated me, but she kept her cards so close.
Her lips twitched in the hint of a smile. “I didn’t have another job when I quit. What I had were some very big ideas and just enough money to get started. I downsized everything. Gave up my nice apartment for a cheap studio. Sold my car so I wouldn’t have a payment or insurance. I rented some old warehouse space and got to work. Three years later I was broke, behind on my rent, and living off ramen noodles and cheap coffee.”
I raised my eyebrows. “But?”
“But I’d filed four patents. Next thing I knew, I was juggling multiple job offers and had companies trying to outbid each other for the rights to my tech. In a slightly unexpected twist, I sold my first patent to the company I’d left a few years earlier. It made me a millionaire.”
“Wow.”
She smiled. “Yeah. My life changed quickly. And to answer your next question, no, there aren’t any disgruntled engineers who think I steamrolled them and took all the credit. I worked mostly alone. When I needed help, especially with testing, one of my old college professors would hook me up with interns.”
“Noted. How did you end up at Spencer?”
“Milton wanted my tech. His company was struggling, and he knew he needed to take it in a new direction if it was going to survive. I told him the girl came with the patents. I wanted a job. He brought me on to head his new emerging technologies division. I didn’t know this when I started, but he was looking to retire. My initial position was basically a test run. He wanted someone with fresh ideas who’d be willing to take the company into uncharted territory, and he didn’t see that in any of his existing executives.”
“But he saw it in you.”
“He did. And when he retired, he put me in charge.”
“Did anyone other than Noelle oppose his decision?”
She shook her head. “No. I’d established good relationships with the rest of the executives. And they could all see what I’d done for the company. None of them would have still had jobs if it hadn’t been for me.”
“Then why does Noelle have a problem with you? She wanted the job?”
She ran her finger along the rim of her glass. “Probably. And she thinks I got the job because of favoritism, not because I earned it.”
“Favoritism? Why?”
“Because I grew up knowing the Spencer family. My grandmother worked at Spencer. She was a brilliant engineer. Way ahead of her time, being a woman in a very male-dominated field. Milton didn’t care about that kind of thing. He just wanted talent. She was one of the first engineers he hired when he started the company. Eventually she and my grandad became friends with the Spencers.”
“But you didn’t go to Spencer for a job after college,” I said. “Trying to strike out on your own?”
“Exactly. I didn’t want any favors.”
I shifted on my stool. “What about Milton’s son?”
“Bobby? What about him?”
“How did he feel about his father’s decision to put you in charge?”
“It probably didn’t make any difference to him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. He’s a trust fund kid. Even if Spencer went under, he’d never have to work a day in his life.”
I tapped my fingers on the counter, mulling that over.
“Why?” She reached over and nudged my leg with her toe.
“He’s on my list.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Your list of suspects?”
“Yes.”
“Bobby’s not smart enough. He’s just a spoiled douchebag.”