Chapter One
“It’s been two months since we last heard any details on the project. Tell us what’s going on.”
Rhett Worth swallowed hard, kept his gaze trained on the report before him. The bogus, full-of-filler-words report he’d had his assistant type up for him so he’d at least look semi-prepared for this meeting.
The truth? He didn’t have anything to update them on. He was, in plain terms, an epic failure.
Blinking slowly, he tried to focus on the words before him, but they blurred, his vision swimming. Panic rose swiftly, threatening to choke him. How the hell could he admit he’d somehow screwed up the one and only project his brothers had ever given him?
“Everything’s in place,” he finally said. The lie fell easily from his lips and he hated that.
The quiet that stretched on for what felt like forever was damning. Rhett refused to elaborate, afraid he might screw it up even more.
“That’s exactly what you said two months ago.” Hunter’s voice was cold as ice. Rhett didn’t need to glance up to know Hunter’s current expression. He could see his older brother’s face in his rather vivid imagination.
Eyes dark, jaw hard, lips firm, disgust written all over his familiar features. A look Hunter had worn countless, endless times before, all while looking straight at Rhett.
His older brother thought—no, knew—he was a fuckup.
“Are you having a difficult time with the project?” Alex asked, full of the usual brotherly concern. As the oldest, Alex felt the need to take care of Rhett, had a sense of responsibility toward his baby brother as a sort of father figure. Whereas Hunter’s greatest wish was to see him hung out to dry.
Looked like Rhett was about to make all of Hunter’s wishes come true.
“Listen.” Rhett finally dared to lift his head, saw his brothers watching him carefully. He needed to tell the truth. Thank God it was a private meeting, no other employees involved. His utter humiliation and ultimate failure as an executive at Worth Luxury was about to go down, but at least it was happening on a relatively small scale. “I can’t get a hold of the perfumer.”
“What do you mean?” Alex asked with a frown.
“I mean that despite my numerous inquiries, I haven’t spoken to him since we originally brokered the deal.” Rhett released a shuddering breath, frustration coursing through his veins, turning his blood ice cold. How he hated admitting defeat, especially when he’d promised he could deliver.
“You had legal send him a contract, right? He hasn’t sent it back? You haven’t even talked to Durand? The project was supposed to be out of the planning stages three weeks ago.” Fury edged Hunter’s voice. “So what you’re telling us is that it’s at a complete standstill?”
He met Hunter’s gaze, saw the censure there. The disappointment mixed with anger. “I’m afraid so.”
Hunter pounded the edge of the boardroom table so hard it shook. “I knew you’d do something like this!” He turned to Alex. “I told you he’d fuck it up.”
“I didn’t fuck it up,” Rhett retorted. “It’s not my fault the perfumer is an eccentric old man who hides away in a little shack and doesn’t believe in modern technological devices.”
“You’re just talking out your ass,” Hunter started, but Alex held up a hand to silence him.
“Stop berating him, Hunter. It’s useless. And Rhett has a point.”
Shock washed over Rhett. He had a point? He’d been fully prepared to admit he was a Grade A screwup. “I do?”
Alex smiled patiently, ignoring the fuming Hunter. “Michel Durand is a known recluse. He hasn’t created a scent for anyone in the last five years. That’s why I was so shocked you were able to talk to him and convince him to work with us. Apparently, he’s reverted to his usual habits.” Alex shrugged. “Find someone new.”
“Oh, it’s as easy as that? ‘Find someone new’,” Hunter mimicked, then shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re letting him get away with this.”
Rhett flipped over the single sheet of paper of his bogus report and scribbled a few names, his mind awhirl with the list of perfumers he’d come up with when they’d originally discussed the project. “I’ll get on the phone right away.”
“Why didn’t you do this sooner? Maybe, say, two weeks ago, when you realized Durand wasn’t responding to you?” Hunter asked snidely.
“It doesn’t matter,” Alex interrupted. “He knows how much I wanted Durand working for us. What a coup it could’ve been. We would’ve had the entire fashion industry green with envy by snagging him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be.”
Hunter glanced between the two of them as if they were alien subjects recently beamed down from their spaceship. “I’ll never get you two,” he finally said. “If I would’ve screwed up like this, you would’ve had my heart on a platter.”