“I’m downsizing.”
“Not by choice.”
“I’m not interested in what you’re offering, Mr. Miles,” I snap. I feel a sharp kick under the table to my ankle, and I wince in pain. Oww . . . that hurt. I glance at Marley. She widens her eyes in a shut-up-now signal.
“How do you know I want to make you an offer?” he replies calmly.
How many times has he had this conversation? “Don’t you?”
“No.” He sips his coffee. “I would like to buy your company, but I’m not offering a free pass.”
“Free pass,” I snap.
Marley kicks me again . . . oh shit, that hurt. I throw her a dirty look, and she fakes a broad smile. Happy, happy, she mouths.
“And what do you mean by a free pass, Mr. Miles?”
“Tristan,” he corrects me.
“I’ll call you whatever I want,” I snap.
He gives me a slow, sexy smile as if loving every minute of this. “I can see you’re a passionate woman, Claire, and that’s admirable . . . but come on. Let’s be serious here.”
I roll my lips, willing myself to stay silent.
“The last three years your company has run at a massive loss. You’re losing advertising accounts left, right, and center.” He steeples his hand on his temple as he stares at me. “I’m guessing the financials are a nightmare.”
I swallow the lump in my throat as we stare at each other.
“I can take everything off your hands, and you can take
a hard-earned break.”
Anger begins to pump through my blood. “You would love that, wouldn’t you? Play Mr. Nice Guy and take everything off my hands . . . come in on your horse and save the day like a white knight.”
His eyes hold mine, and a trace of a smile crosses his face.
“I will hold on to my company if it’s the last thing I do.” I feel a swift kick, and I jump, losing the last of my patience. “Stop kicking me, Marley,” I snap.
Tristan breaks into a broad smile as he looks between us. “Keep kicking her, Marley,” he says. “Kick some sense into her.”
I roll my eyes, embarrassed that my assistant is kicking the shit out of my ankles.
He sits forward, his purpose renewed. “Claire, let’s get one thing straight. I always get what I want. And what I want is Anderson Media. I can take it now from you for a good price that will protect you. Or”—he shrugs casually—“I can wait for six months until the liquidators move in and get if for next to nothing, and you can face bankruptcy.” He steeples his hands on the table in front of him. “We both know the end is near.”
“You self-conceited prick,” I whisper.
He tilts his chin to the sky and smiles proudly. “Nice guys come last, Claire.”
My heart begins to beat faster as my anger begins to build.
“Think about it.” He takes out his business card and slides it across the table.
TRISTAN MILES
09488449467
“I know this is not how you want to sell your company. But you need to be a realist,” he continues.