lip.
“Hannah?”
“You made it into the National Star again.”
His mood took a nosedive at the mention of his “favorite” tabloid magazine.
Hannah pulled the paper from her bag and tossed it on his desk. On the front was a picture of him and Monique walking through the lobby of his New York hotel on his recent visit.
“Fabulous,” he muttered, easing back in his chair as he read the marriage rumor headline.
“It gets better. Inside, there’s a nice little quote from Monique about getting creeped out in hospitals. A terminal patient at one of her runway shows tried to get an autograph, asked her to make an appearance in his cancer ward. She snubbed him. Told him he needed to go grow some hair. Press is all over it, especially with her connection to you. Not sitting well for us, Ryan.”
He clenched his jaw. His relationship with Monique was anything but exclusive, and marriage was the last thing on his mind. He had no control over what she did or said. And they never talked business when they were together. Rarely talked at all, as a matter of fact.
“How do you want me to handle it?” Hannah asked.
“Don’t. Ignore it.”
“The press is going to play this up, and we don’t need backlash right now with everything that’s happening with Grayson. I really think we need to make a statement.”
Like he cared. The press could print anything about him they wanted. “The Grayson deal’s sealed. And I don’t really give a shit what people think of me personally.”
“Well, I do. It’s my job to care. That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”
“I pay you the big bucks because you earn them.”
“I’m trying to earn them now.”
“Your opinion on the subject is noted.”
“But you’re going to do as you damn well please. And that means nothing.”
He pushed out of his chair. “You want a drink?”
She frowned. “Just water.”
He crossed to the wet bar, pulled two chilled bottles from the fridge, then handed her one. “What else?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, closing the file on her lap.
“I can see it on your face. What else?” She might be good with the press, but she couldn’t hide anything from him. They’d known each other too long.
She let out a deep breath and leaned back in her chair, fingering the water bottle. “The Grayson deal has me curious.”
“About what?”
“About your goals.” When he raised a brow, she added, “Long-term goals. What’s the plan?”
“I’m not following you.”
“Well.” She shifted in her seat. “Aside from wanting to excel in the pharmaceutical world, which you’ve already done, and wanting to expand your umbrella company, which you’re doing by acquiring subsidiaries, I’m just curious where things are going.”
He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like where this was going. Moving back to his desk, he sank into his chair and waited for her to get to the point.
“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, Ryan, but you’re not exactly the norm for a CEO.” She arched one perfect eyebrow. “You’re a multimillionaire and are very successful at most everything you put your mind to, but you don’t live like a man who rakes in the dough. You live in a nice house, but you could easily afford something bigger and way fancier. You drive the same car you drove five years ago, you don’t have expensive spending habits, you don’t own a yacht or sports cars or even take luxury vacations. Aside from the one week every year that you take to go somewhere with Julia, you never take time off. You belong to the country club, but you rarely go there, you barely use the car and driver you have on staff for the company, and you don’t throw lavish parties or socialize with San Francisco’s elite.”
He swiveled his chair to look out over the bay as she talked. Darkness was setting in, and the lights of the city reflected off the water. Darkness that suddenly mirrored his sinking mood.
“My point is,” she went on, “you
“Hannah?”
“You made it into the National Star again.”
His mood took a nosedive at the mention of his “favorite” tabloid magazine.
Hannah pulled the paper from her bag and tossed it on his desk. On the front was a picture of him and Monique walking through the lobby of his New York hotel on his recent visit.
“Fabulous,” he muttered, easing back in his chair as he read the marriage rumor headline.
“It gets better. Inside, there’s a nice little quote from Monique about getting creeped out in hospitals. A terminal patient at one of her runway shows tried to get an autograph, asked her to make an appearance in his cancer ward. She snubbed him. Told him he needed to go grow some hair. Press is all over it, especially with her connection to you. Not sitting well for us, Ryan.”
He clenched his jaw. His relationship with Monique was anything but exclusive, and marriage was the last thing on his mind. He had no control over what she did or said. And they never talked business when they were together. Rarely talked at all, as a matter of fact.
“How do you want me to handle it?” Hannah asked.
“Don’t. Ignore it.”
“The press is going to play this up, and we don’t need backlash right now with everything that’s happening with Grayson. I really think we need to make a statement.”
Like he cared. The press could print anything about him they wanted. “The Grayson deal’s sealed. And I don’t really give a shit what people think of me personally.”
“Well, I do. It’s my job to care. That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”
“I pay you the big bucks because you earn them.”
“I’m trying to earn them now.”
“Your opinion on the subject is noted.”
“But you’re going to do as you damn well please. And that means nothing.”
He pushed out of his chair. “You want a drink?”
She frowned. “Just water.”
He crossed to the wet bar, pulled two chilled bottles from the fridge, then handed her one. “What else?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, closing the file on her lap.
“I can see it on your face. What else?” She might be good with the press, but she couldn’t hide anything from him. They’d known each other too long.
She let out a deep breath and leaned back in her chair, fingering the water bottle. “The Grayson deal has me curious.”
“About what?”
“About your goals.” When he raised a brow, she added, “Long-term goals. What’s the plan?”
“I’m not following you.”
“Well.” She shifted in her seat. “Aside from wanting to excel in the pharmaceutical world, which you’ve already done, and wanting to expand your umbrella company, which you’re doing by acquiring subsidiaries, I’m just curious where things are going.”
He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like where this was going. Moving back to his desk, he sank into his chair and waited for her to get to the point.
“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, Ryan, but you’re not exactly the norm for a CEO.” She arched one perfect eyebrow. “You’re a multimillionaire and are very successful at most everything you put your mind to, but you don’t live like a man who rakes in the dough. You live in a nice house, but you could easily afford something bigger and way fancier. You drive the same car you drove five years ago, you don’t have expensive spending habits, you don’t own a yacht or sports cars or even take luxury vacations. Aside from the one week every year that you take to go somewhere with Julia, you never take time off. You belong to the country club, but you rarely go there, you barely use the car and driver you have on staff for the company, and you don’t throw lavish parties or socialize with San Francisco’s elite.”
He swiveled his chair to look out over the bay as she talked. Darkness was setting in, and the lights of the city reflected off the water. Darkness that suddenly mirrored his sinking mood.
“My point is,” she went on, “you
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