Chapter 23 – Pleasing the Boss

Steele snaps and points at our sister. “Exactly that. She is not going to move ratings.”

“She’s a long-term investment. A way to move the needle five years from now, which is important.”

“And who even knows if she has the right stuff for that.”

“I think she has the right stuff. She’s got what it takes.”

“To replace Jessa?”

“To build with Jessa.”

“Not if Jessa isn’t part of Hadrian’s vision.” Steele stares at me.

Adly sets down my wineglass and stares at me with him.

I swipe it before she can pick it up again and take a nice size gulp. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you really?” Steele laughs again, and I wonder if he’s already high. “Do you have a plan of how to explain your vision to Hunter?”

“Forget about Hunter,” Adly says. “How are you going to tell Dad?”

I take my time responding. It’s not that I’m not concerned. It’s not just my half-brother and my father that have to be convinced. The whole department is going to question my decision.

It doesn’t help that the president of programming is Hunter’s best friend. I don’t have to mention him because Adly brings him up on her own. “Axle is going to have a field day. He’ll probably give her the midnight time slot.”

“f**k Axle Morgan. I should fire that shithead.” I should have fired him the day I took the job of CEO.

Adly reminds me why I can’t do that. “The board wouldn’t like it.”

“You’d piss off Hunter, and he’s already on your ass.” Steele doesn’t add that our half-brother thinks he can do a better job than I can, but that’s what it comes down to. That Hunter wants my position. That Hunter thinks he should have been given the job. Never mind that we share a mother, not a father, and it was Dad that I replaced when I took the CEO position. The sole reason he has any opinion about it is because he’s on the board.

And the only reason he’s on the board is because his father put him there.

And once we start talking about Hunter’s father, then we’re opening doors to a whole bunch of other baggage that the three of us would rather forget exists.

“Maybe firing Axle is exactly what he should do,” Adly says. “Show the board Hadrian isn’t willing to be their puppet.”

“You just hate Ax.”

She grins. “They aren’t mutually exclusive. I could just as easily like him and still think it’s a marvelous idea to have him out of our business. You’re creative. Help me come up with an uncontestable reason to boot him.”

“Help you think of a reason to ax Ax?” Steele can’t keep from laughing, and now I’m certain he’s high.

The thing is, high or not, he is creative. And Adly’s smart. I should use this opportunity to pick their brains and help me come up with a solid plan to make a bigger name for myself at SNC. That’s everything I want—everything I’ve always wanted—to surpass the achievements of my father. To be the CEO that is most remembered for shaking things up. Like Steve Jobs. Like Elon Musk. Like Walt Disney and Henry Ford.

The scandal I broke with King-Kincaid got me a leg up—thank you, Donovan Kincaid, for getting me what I needed for that—but the news from that is already dying down. I need an imp**ssive second act. I need a story that will be sustainable. I need to turn SNC on its head. Need something that will get viewership up, send it through the roof, and keep it there for a long time.

Am I f**ked in the brain for thinking I can do just that with Brystin Shaw?

Adly and Steele would give good advice if I let them all the way in. Hard advice, probably, but good advice.

Good advice doesn’t always mean the best advice.

I let my siblings banter about my options and pull out my phone again. I’m not exactly obsessed. More, I’m fascinated. Besides my extended family and Axle Morgan, very few people try to test me. I’m the kind of person that says jump and people are soaring off buildings to their death without blinking an eye.

But not Brystin Shaw. She laid down her own rules. She told me no to f**king. She ignored my text for twelve f**king hours.

Except when I open the chat thread, my message now shows as read and three dots say she is currently typing. I watch until the text comes up on my screen.

This kind of talk is really inappropriate, Mr. Seymour, and I’m not beyond bringing it up with HR.

Shit, Adly would love that.

But more importantly, is Brystin goddamned serious right now?

I stand up, wine in one hand, phone in the other. “How about you two work it all out for me? When you’re done, you can see yourselves to bed via another route.”

“Good night, asshole,” Steele says as I open the door.

“You’re welcome in advance.” Adly’s words are the last thing I hear before shutting the door behind me.

I lock it to be sure I don’t see them again tonight.

Once I’m safely in the privacy of my bedroom, I set my wineglass down, pull up FaceTime on my phone, and dial the number I entered into my contacts earlier this weekend.

I shouldn’t be surprised when Brystin doesn’t answer.

I send another text.

I’m calling you. Pick up.

She replies quickly.

Who is this? I don’t have this number programmed in my phone.

She knows who it is. She addressed me as Mr. Seymour in her text a few minutes ago. She’s toying with me, and I’m so unused to it that it intrigues me.

I sit on my bed and lean against the headboard while I think of my reply.

I’m not sure you want to play games with your potential career.

This time she answers when I call. “Me playing games? What about you with your ‘if you win at pool then I’ll give you a show’? ‘If you come to my bedroom, I’ll give you a show.’ You were always planning to give us a show. Admit it. I didn’t have to negotiate anything.”

She’s kind of adorable when she’s feisty like this. Or maybe what I like is this casual look of hers that I haven’t really seen. I glimpsed it when she was in my library that night in her skimpy pjs. And again when I found her lost and flustered on the grounds. But usually she’s put together and professional, like she’s ready to walk on camera any minute.

She was even like that in my room last night, with her dress open, and her skin bared.

Now, her hair is up in a casual twist. Several stray whisps frame her face. She’s makeup less and wearing another tank top. No bra. I can see the outline of her tits through the fabric.

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