Page 11 of Billionaire Grump
“It was pink, in the middle of my desk and written in underlined capital letters. No, I didn’t miss it, Esther. I filled it out and you may now call Leah with the information.”
“Would you like me to book a commuter flight for next Friday? Or will you be taking the Gulfstream? Or the helicopter?”
“I’ll take the helicopter. Tell Marco to have it ready to leave at five p.m. on Friday.”
“And the plus one? If you’re bringing someone and they’ve got dietary restrictions?—”
“No plus one, Esther,” I say gruffly.
“Understood.”
“Thank you,” I add and she smiles, which helps me feel like less of a prick for snapping at her.
I’m not a total monster. I don’t make any unreasonable demands on her time and I make sure she gets a ludicrously generous bonus every year for putting up with my moods.
She’s obviously made of tough stuff. I inherited her when I took over as CEO, and she’s told me on at least two separate occasions that working for me is a cakewalk compared to working for my father.
By the time I get to Invested Enterprises, it’s a little after ten.
Noah’s assistant Cleo announces my arrival. Noah’s already waiting for me in one of their meeting rooms. He looks up when I walk in.
“Hey. You made it.” Noah’s tie is loosened, his hair slightly longer than it was last time I saw him. If I had to describe Noah’s style, it might be biker romantic meets hot-shot CFO. He’s hard to categorize.
He’s also the best person I know.
Noah manages to weave all of his broad, 6’3’’ frame around New York City on a Ducati and takes any opportunity he can to mock me for being driven around in a limo.
“Help yourself to brunch, if you’re hungry.” Noah gestures to the side table, which is overflowing with fruit, donuts and deli sandwiches. “Cleo got a little carried away.”
Colton walks in, grabbing a donut. “Hey, bro.” He slaps me on the back. Colton is the youngest of the four of us and acts like it. He’s the COO here at IE and, as the most social of all of us, is good at managing people. I think by now he’s slept with half of New York City—and has had the time of his life doing it. Unlike the rest of us, he never takes anything very seriously. “How’s it hanging?”
“It’s hanging just fine, thanks for asking. It looks like you guys have recovered from the almost-meltdown of IE.”
Noah takes a seat. “Yeah, it turns out the publicity actually did us some good in the end. We’ve grown more in the past month than in the six months before the incident.”
“That’s what happens when the three of you pose for the press like you’re in a goddamn boyband.”
Colton laughs. “It’s not our fault the camera loves us. Especially me.”
This almost makes me smile. Which is a mean feat these days. “As long as it translates into good business, go for it.”
“It does,” Noah says. “Share prices have sky-rocketed. Things are going well.”
I pull out a chair and sit. “So, what do you need my help with?”
If I know my brothers—and I do—they almost look guilty. “We may have called you here for a slightly different reason than I mentioned,” Noah admits.
“What reason?”
Colton takes a bite of his donut, grinning at me.
Noah pours me a cup of coffee, placing it in on the table. “It’s been too long since you emerged out of Dad’s office into broad daylight, bro. You’re working too hard.”
At first I assume this is some kind of joke. “Sure.”
“We thought you’d turned into a vampire,” Colton says. “We’ve hardly seen you in months.”
I glare at them both. “Wait. You called me over here to…check on me?”