“Well, he was trying to explain that different wines—”
“Complement different foods, I get it! Jesus, I told you, I wanted to be a chef. You think I don't know about this kind of stuff? Of course, I do. And, that's exactly why I don't need to hear it from some bottom-feeder waiter who only just got out of high school. The dumb-ass probably only barely scraped through, anyway.”
“You don't know that.”
“Why else would he be working a crap job like this?”
“Maybe to pay his way through college. Not all of us had parents who could afford to pay for us to go to Ivy League schools, Brendan.”
He rolled his eyes. “And, I'm supposed to feel guilty about that?”
“That's not what I meant.”
The waiter returned bearing a bottle of wine and immediately Brendan's mood changed.
“Well, that was quick,” he said. “Good. I like that. Keep it up and you'll get a nice, fat tip at the end of the evening, kid.”
“Thank you, sir,” the waiter said as he poured glasses of wine for myself and Brendan before leaving us to peruse the menu.
Brendan held up his glass and clinked it against mine. “To new beginnings and future potential,” he said with a smile.
“To . . . the future, and whatever it may hold,” I added as I clinked my glass against his. “Now,” I said, “before we get too far into this wine, let's cut to the chase. Why did you bring me here? Tell me about this offer you've been hinting at making.”
He smiled. “Well, well, well, a true corporate shark, aren't you? I like that. Well, listen, Lilah, I'll be honest. Your boss Asher is my biggest competitor. And, we've had a rivalry going between us for years now. Somehow, despite all my best efforts, he still has the edge over me.
“I've been . . . monitoring the Sinclair Agency for
quite some time now. And, I know, due to some, uh, research that I've done, that the recent massive success with the Harry Winston watches was all because of you, Lilah.”
I looked up, surprised. “You know that?”
“I know a lot of things. But yes, I know that. I've been studying your work, Lilah, and I've come to the conclusion that you're one of the best. You have more potential in our field than almost anyone I’ve come across. Where I am, where Asher is, you could be there yourself in a few years. With the right guidance, of course.
“But the thing is, I don't believe Asher wants that for you. I think he knows as well as I do how much potential you have, and I think it concerns him. He doesn't want to lose clients to you should you decide to venture out on your own. That would mean yet another rival to compete with. So, he's gonna keep you where you are. Keep you where you're safe, where you're not a threat to him. He doesn't want you to achieve your full potential.”
“And you do?” I asked coolly.
“Absolutely. If for no other reason than to rub it in his face. See? Brutal honesty.”
“So, what you're saying is that you want me to work for you, instead of working for Asher or for myself?”
Brendan smiled. “That's exactly what I'm saying.”
I nodded, taking it all in. I was conflicted, for a few reasons. One of which was above all else, Brendan Savage was a bit of a pompous ass and that left me suspicious. Another reason was that he was telling me exactly what he thought I wanted to hear, for his own purposes—his own end goal, whatever that may be. But there was also that little voice saying that he was making some pretty good points. Maybe Asher was scared of having another rival? Maybe he didn't want me to reach my full potential.
But that didn't seem like the Asher I knew.
Still, I decided to hear out the details of Brendan's offer. At least then I would know exactly what was on the table, exactly what was at stake, and exactly what I was worth on the free market.
“Very well,” I said. “So, what can you give me that Asher and the Sinclair Agency can't?”
He smiled and, with that, he began to make me an offer he expected I couldn't refuse.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Asher
After a morning of intense Muay Thai training, I would have thought I’d be less on edge. But when my phone rang, interrupting my shower, annoyance bolted through me and in a fit of sudden rage, I seriously considered flinging the phone across the room. Clearly, there was more stress and frustration built up inside me than I had realized. Even an intense sparring session hadn't been able to get it all out.