Her handbag struck the side of a tool cart and fell onto the polished floor.
The sound changed the room.
Even Preston stopped smiling.
Naomi looked down at the handbag.
Then slowly looked toward Mercer.
“Take your hand off me.”
Mercer removed it.
Avery muttered:
“Jesus, Doug.”
Naomi crouched and picked up the bag.
As she did, another executive standing near the worktable glanced at the black acquisition folder Preston had thrown down.
“Is this hers?”
Preston said:
“Yeah.”
The executive nudged it with his shoe jokingly.
The folder slid off the lower shelf.
He kicked it lightly across the polished floor.
“Return to sender.”
The men nearest him laughed.
The folder traveled twenty feet.
Stopped beneath the nose landing gear of the white jet.
Naomi stood.
Her expression had changed.
The anger was gone.
That was worse.
She picked up her phone.
Preston gave an exaggerated sigh.
“Calling somebody?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Naomi tapped one contact.
The line connected immediately.
“Renee.”
Carter Meridian General Counsel Renee Lawson answered.
“We’re ready whenever you are.”
Naomi looked toward Preston.
“Cancel the transfer.”
Silence on the other end.
Renee knew Naomi well enough not to ask whether she had heard correctly.
“The entire authorization?”
“Yes.”
“Closing or pause?”
“Cancel.”
A brief silence.
“Understood.”
Preston frowned.
“What transfer?”
Naomi ignored him.
Renee asked:
“Reason code?”
“Buyer discretion under Section Eleven.”
“Confirmed.”
Naomi ended the call.
Preston stared at her.
Something about her calmness finally began to scare him.
Inside the glass conference room, a banker leaned toward his laptop.
His face changed.
Then another screen changed.
The large closing dashboard mounted on the conference wall flashed from green to red.
BUYER PAYMENT AUTHORIZATION WITHDRAWN
Below it:
$770,000,000
Grant Ellison turned so quickly his chair rolled backward.
Inside the hangar, the change appeared simultaneously on a second display used for the transaction presentation.
Conversation stopped.
One champagne glass clicked against a table.
The senior banker rushed out of the conference room.
“Who canceled the Carter Meridian authorization?”
Naomi looked toward him.
“I did.”
The banker stopped.
Preston’s face changed.
Grant Ellison stepped through the conference-room door.
He saw Naomi.
The green coat.
The handbag.
The folder beneath the aircraft.
Then Preston.
His expression became dangerous.
“Naomi?”
She looked toward him.
“Grant.”
Every face in the hangar turned toward her.
Grant walked quickly across the floor.
“What happened?”
Preston looked from him to Naomi.
Then back.
“Wait.”
Nobody answered.
Preston’s voice dropped.
“You’re actually—”
Grant cut him off.
“Yes.”
The billionaire’s mouth remained open.
Grant looked at Naomi’s sleeve.
“Did someone touch you?”
Naomi’s eyes moved toward the security manager.
Mercer took one step backward.
Preston immediately spoke.
“This is a misunderstanding.”
Naomi looked at him.
“No.”
“Ms. Carter—”
“So now you know my name.”
Preston’s face reddened.
Conrad Whitmore emerged from the private office at the far side of the hangar.
At sixty-four, he was older than Preston and quieter in every way. Whitmore had built the operational side of the company while Preston became its public face.
He saw the red screen.
Then Naomi.
He stopped.
Unlike Preston, Conrad recognized her immediately.
“Oh no.”
He walked faster.
“Ms. Carter.”
Naomi said nothing.
Conrad looked toward Grant.
“What happened?”
Grant answered:
“I was about to ask the same thing.”
Preston stepped forward.
“She came in without identification and represented herself—”
Naomi raised one hand.
He stopped talking.
That surprised everyone more than shouting would have.
Naomi looked toward Conrad.
“I arrived for the final inspection.”
“Yes.”
“I identified myself.”
Conrad’s face tightened.
She continued.
“Mr. Vale laughed.”
Preston interrupted.
“I thought—”
Naomi did not look at him.
“I presented the closing folder.”
She pointed toward the jet.
Every head followed.
The black folder lay on the ground near the nose gear.
Conrad stared.
“How did it get there?”
Nobody answered.
Naomi did.
“One of your partners kicked it there.”
Charles Avery suddenly found the floor fascinating.
Conrad’s expression hardened.
Naomi continued.
“Mr. Vale informed me that seven hundred seventy million dollars does not appear merely because someone dresses expensive.”
Conrad closed his eyes for half a second.
“Naomi—”
“Ms. Carter.”
Preston’s face tightened.
Conrad said immediately:
“Ms. Carter.”
Naomi turned toward Mercer.
“Then your security director put his hand on me and shoved me back from the aircraft.”
Mercer spoke quickly.
“I was instructed to escort you out.”
“You were instructed to escort me.”
Naomi’s voice remained calm.
“You chose to put your hands on me after I specifically told you not to.”
Mercer said nothing.
Conrad looked as if he had aged ten years in two minutes.
Preston stepped closer.
“Fine.”
Grant turned toward him.
Preston raised both hands.
“I apologize.”
Naomi waited.
Preston continued.
“I didn’t recognize you.”
Naomi looked at him for several seconds.
Then asked:
“Why should that matter?”
He frowned.
“You’re the buyer.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
The room went completely still.
Naomi walked toward the folder.
Conrad moved instinctively.
“No, please.”
He hurried forward, crouched, and retrieved it before she reached the jet.
He brushed a faint shoe mark from the cover.
Opened it.
The first page displayed Naomi’s photograph beside the executive closing authorization.
The second listed the transaction.
Twelve aircraft.
Purchase consideration: $770,000,000.
Conrad looked toward Preston.
His voice was almost a whisper.
“She wasn’t buying one jet.”
Avery stared.
Conrad turned the folder around so the men could see.
“She was buying all twelve.”
Naomi put her sunglasses back on.
Preston stepped forward.
“Let’s go into the conference room.”
“No.”
“We’ve worked on this for four months.”
“Yes.”
“There are two hundred people involved in this closing.”
“Yes.”
“You’re canceling seven hundred seventy million dollars over a bad first impression?”
Naomi looked at him.
“No.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly.
Then she continued.
“I’m canceling it because in less than eight minutes, without knowing my title, your people showed me more about this company than four months of presentations did.”
The relief disappeared.
Preston scoffed.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Naomi looked toward the jet.
“Maybe.”
She turned back.
Popular Posts
→- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
Recently Viewed
Stories you read recently will appear here.
