I’ve been thinking about making Kennedy Creative a contemporary modern firm.”
Grace chastises me with a look.
Gerald Bush chuckles. “Well, contrary to the technical gold rush, Mr. Tango, San Francisco remains a city given to nostalgia.”
Grace opens her mouth to speak.
“Call me Robert,” I say, cutting her off. “So, Gerald”—I lean in close—“do you live in the district you represent—full-time?”
“Oh yes!” He laughs.
“Is that so? I’m sure you have more than one house in the city, don’t you?” I tilt my head, a gesture that warns him to not lie to me.
“Oh yes, I invest in the right properties.” He chuckles again.
I snort cynically. “Got you.”
Grace’s nimble fingers dig into my shoulder. “Anyway, we’re looking forward to attending the Fall Ball this year. We’ll purchase the same number of seats as usual.” She looks at me for consensus.
I take too long to respond, and her expression transforms into a grimace.
“Well, we’ll hold the spots for you,” Gerald says. He extends his hand for a final handshake.
I oblige him. “Nice meeting you.”
“The pleasure was mine.” There’s the laugh again.
As soon as he’s a safe distance away, Grace tugs on my arm. “What in the hell was that?”
I curl my arm around her waist and put my mouth to her ear. “Listen, I know what’s important to that fucker, and it’s not nostalgia or his Fall Ball. If I need that parasite, then I’ll buy him.”
Grace’s mouth drops open in shock.
“Listen, I appreciate what you came here to do. I want you to keep doing it, but I’ve allocated over a billion dollars of capital to this company. You can buy his ten-thousand-dollars-a-plate meals and kiss his ass, but that gives him the potential to say no whenever he fucking feels like it.”
Grace grunts as if she wants to negate everything I just said but then thinks better of it.
I sweep the scope of the floor with my hand. “I do appreciate the tour, but this shit only gets you so far.”
“Grace?” a man says.
Grace and I turn to look behind us. A guy about my age stands there in a suit.
Grace flinches as if she’s surprised to see him. “Tyler? What are you doing here?”
Tyler watches me as though if he looks hard enough, he’ll find all the answers he seeks. “The same thing you’re doing here.”
Grace and Tyler hug each other loosely. I’m not an intuitive man, but even I can sense the tension between them.
He extends his hand to me. “You must be the new Ralph of Kennedy Creative.”
I shake his hand. “Robert Tango.”
“I know. Nice to meet you. Tyler Penso.”
I grimace. The name sounds familiar. “You were a principal architect for Kennedy Creative?”
He throws up his hands. “You caught me.”
“Right…” I glance at Grace.
She looks as if she swallowed a canary.
“You did good work,” I say.
“You looked through my projects folder?”
“I’m thorough.” I’m like a shark that smells blood. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”
He’s obviously trying to fight the urge to smile. “Is that so?”
“You’re a great talent. I’m sure Ralph had to let you go because he couldn’t afford you but—”
“That’s not why I was let go,” he says, glaring at Grace.
Grace starts to say something, but her voice cracks. She clears her throat and tries again. “I’m glad you landed back on your feet.”
“Right. How’s Carter?” His tone is bitter.
Curiosity shoots through me like bolts of lightning. Grace glances nervously at me. She’s fucking hiding something.
“Carter’s doing fine,” I say.
He and I lock eyes, and it’s as if I’m looking through a mirror that can see past the image. He’s in love with Carter, and I’m intrigued by her. I think about reneging on my plan to ask him back, but I’m not the sort of man who shuns a challenge.
“Carter’s now one of our principal architects,” I say.
“Oh.” He looks at Grace. “I take it you didn’t
Grace chastises me with a look.
Gerald Bush chuckles. “Well, contrary to the technical gold rush, Mr. Tango, San Francisco remains a city given to nostalgia.”
Grace opens her mouth to speak.
“Call me Robert,” I say, cutting her off. “So, Gerald”—I lean in close—“do you live in the district you represent—full-time?”
“Oh yes!” He laughs.
“Is that so? I’m sure you have more than one house in the city, don’t you?” I tilt my head, a gesture that warns him to not lie to me.
“Oh yes, I invest in the right properties.” He chuckles again.
I snort cynically. “Got you.”
Grace’s nimble fingers dig into my shoulder. “Anyway, we’re looking forward to attending the Fall Ball this year. We’ll purchase the same number of seats as usual.” She looks at me for consensus.
I take too long to respond, and her expression transforms into a grimace.
“Well, we’ll hold the spots for you,” Gerald says. He extends his hand for a final handshake.
I oblige him. “Nice meeting you.”
“The pleasure was mine.” There’s the laugh again.
As soon as he’s a safe distance away, Grace tugs on my arm. “What in the hell was that?”
I curl my arm around her waist and put my mouth to her ear. “Listen, I know what’s important to that fucker, and it’s not nostalgia or his Fall Ball. If I need that parasite, then I’ll buy him.”
Grace’s mouth drops open in shock.
“Listen, I appreciate what you came here to do. I want you to keep doing it, but I’ve allocated over a billion dollars of capital to this company. You can buy his ten-thousand-dollars-a-plate meals and kiss his ass, but that gives him the potential to say no whenever he fucking feels like it.”
Grace grunts as if she wants to negate everything I just said but then thinks better of it.
I sweep the scope of the floor with my hand. “I do appreciate the tour, but this shit only gets you so far.”
“Grace?” a man says.
Grace and I turn to look behind us. A guy about my age stands there in a suit.
Grace flinches as if she’s surprised to see him. “Tyler? What are you doing here?”
Tyler watches me as though if he looks hard enough, he’ll find all the answers he seeks. “The same thing you’re doing here.”
Grace and Tyler hug each other loosely. I’m not an intuitive man, but even I can sense the tension between them.
He extends his hand to me. “You must be the new Ralph of Kennedy Creative.”
I shake his hand. “Robert Tango.”
“I know. Nice to meet you. Tyler Penso.”
I grimace. The name sounds familiar. “You were a principal architect for Kennedy Creative?”
He throws up his hands. “You caught me.”
“Right…” I glance at Grace.
She looks as if she swallowed a canary.
“You did good work,” I say.
“You looked through my projects folder?”
“I’m thorough.” I’m like a shark that smells blood. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”
He’s obviously trying to fight the urge to smile. “Is that so?”
“You’re a great talent. I’m sure Ralph had to let you go because he couldn’t afford you but—”
“That’s not why I was let go,” he says, glaring at Grace.
Grace starts to say something, but her voice cracks. She clears her throat and tries again. “I’m glad you landed back on your feet.”
“Right. How’s Carter?” His tone is bitter.
Curiosity shoots through me like bolts of lightning. Grace glances nervously at me. She’s fucking hiding something.
“Carter’s doing fine,” I say.
He and I lock eyes, and it’s as if I’m looking through a mirror that can see past the image. He’s in love with Carter, and I’m intrigued by her. I think about reneging on my plan to ask him back, but I’m not the sort of man who shuns a challenge.
“Carter’s now one of our principal architects,” I say.
“Oh.” He looks at Grace. “I take it you didn’t
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