Chain Reaction 2.61: Personal Interest

Alex

     I have a meeting with a potential client. To be honest, I don't understand why this client wants to use my company for their internet security needs. Typically, large, powerful families have their own guy on the inside--to probably ensure greater security. Of course, I'm not going to turn down the opportunity to acquire this client; it would mean a ton of money for my company. I personally don't need it, but I could increase all my employees' salaries and not worry about financially buckling.

      "Just a juice on the rocks, please." I can't believe I'm drinking this early in the day. I haven't done that since right after Laura left me. However, the client requested we meet at the bar. I don't want to sit at the bar and not order anything.

     I don't like to admit it, but I'm nervous. It's been so long since I've tried to personally sell my company to a potential client. Even in the beginning, I left that to Laura. This isn't my talent, but the man said he was sending his niece to meet with me face-to-face. I don't know why he won't meet with me himself, but perhaps Mr. Franco is too busy.

     I chuckle. Somehow I doubt he has the same difficulty I do with actual business transactions. Maybe it's that he trusts his niece's judgment.

      "Hello," a sultry voice says next to me, and I almost choke on my drink.

     "Alexander Goth, correct?" she asks.

     I clear my throat. "Yes."

     She orders a lemon twist to drink, holds out her hand, and says, "Nice to meet you. I'm Violet Franco." Her hand is flimsy in mine, positioned like she expects me to kiss it. I don't. Taking back her hand, she smiles down at it. "I feel like I already know you; I've read so much about you."

     "All good, I hope," I say in a joking way.

     She doesn't laugh, and I nervously down my drink.

      "Actually, no, but don't worry, Mr. Goth. That's not a strike against you. My uncle... prefers ...it that way."

      Something about her makes me nervous. My insides scream at me to run away as if to flee from a predator. It's just because I'm out of my element. That's all. I let out an uncomfortable laugh.

      "So," I begin, "tell me why your uncle is interested in switching to GothNet Security."

      "He's not interested in switching to your company, Mr. Goth. He has a personal interest in you."

     The bartender acts a little too interested in our conversation for my comfort level. "Let's grab a table then, Miss Franco."

     "Please, call me Violet."

     Really? That's not very professional. I clear my throat again. It still stings from when I choked on my drink earlier. "If you wish." I pause. "Call me Alex." I can't have me calling her by her first name if she's not calling me by mine. Sure, I'm older, but what else is new.

     "I'd be glad to, Alex."

     Out of habit, I look at her left hand. No ring.

     Well, there's not one on mine either. Hm. I hope I get to change that relatively soon. I give myself three seconds to fantasize about marrying Emily.

     "This is charming. They're letting us watch the kitchen in action," Miss Franco comments.

     I, however, am still on the marrying Emily fantasy. And Graham walks her down the aisle? I have to cough to hide my laugh. Mentally stumbling, I utter, "Yes. Very entertaining." I smile. As long as she's Mrs. Emily GOTH at the end of it, I can put up with even that. My smile grows in a dreamy way. Emily Goth... That sounds a plum-ton better than Emily Taylor.

     The waiter comes by and takes our order. Once that's done, Miss Franco turns her attention from the kitchen to me.

      "So tell me," she purrs, "what makes Alexander Goth tick? What can you tell me about yourself that I can't find on Google." She smiles and leans back, arching her back slightly.

      Those are actual cutouts on her dress, not skintone-matching fabric pieces. Why would she wear something like THAT to a business meeting? Not sure what to say to answer her question, I say, "Um..." I chuckle. "My favorite color is red."

      "A passionate color." She smirks. "I'll keep that in mind. I was actually thinking of more to do with your past."

     Ah hah. That's where she's going with this. I smirk. "Miss Franco-"

     "Violet."

     "-Violet," I correct myself. "I have taken great pains to maintain that certain aspects of my past remain in the past, forgotten." By this, I mean my father's involvement in sim trafficking. I couldn't have potential clients discovering this information, especially since I decided to keep my last name in the company. I was depending on a fickle public memory to disassociate my name with the scandal. 

     Personally, I'm disgusted at what my father got involved in. Then, the way he treated Graham did him no favors in the end. At the time, of course, I wanted Graham pushed out of the way, but in some odd way, I can understand Graham's desire to get even with my father for that.

     Maybe wanting the man to become my father-in-law makes it easier for me to understand him, more willing to understand him.

     "That's exactly it!" Miss Franco exclaims, bringing me back to the present. "It's all but vanished from public record! It's amazing!"

     I'm curious just what facts she's meaning, but I'm distracted by our food's arrival.

     We sit and talk for a while about contract-specific items.

     "This has gone longer than anticipated," she says. "Perhaps we could continue our discussion over dinner this Friday?"

      That sounded suspiciously like asking me out. "No, I'm afraid I can't. I have plans." Or I will as soon as I talk to Emily again.

      "Then Saturday. Come meet with my uncle himself. He's hosting one of his little get-togethers. I'll put your name on the guest list."

      I agree, and Miss Franco goes one way while I go another.

Where are you?

      I smile at the text. Emily. She's been working on the rocket while I was at the meeting.

Fishing. Near the restaurant.

      I smile when I hear her laughter approaching.

      "Only you can think to go fishing in a tux."

      "Go to dinner with me on Friday," I ask with a small smile, watching the water.

      "You're asking me out?" She sounds surprised.

      I tug the line, testing it. "Yes." Nothing is biting. It's just as well. I don't know plum what I'm doing. I stash the rod in the mysterious place where everything goes. I guess I'm not good at everything. But I do know how to play my strengths.

      Emily only acts startled for half a second when I suddenly grab her. "Are you going to say yes?" She's so plumbing beautiful. Restraint is difficult but not impossible. Above all, I want to mend what Drake did to her emotionally, but at the same time, I ache to physically love her.

     "Did you think I'd say no?" Her mouth is parted slightly with her quiet panting. I can't take it!

     I have to kiss her right here in the park, and sweet Maker, she responds. She's so sweet, and the miniskirt is killing me. It's a rare woman that can pull off sweet and sultry at the same time, but Emily has it down pat. I reach down to squeeze her ass and discover that's her new out-in-public limit. She fidgets, hoping I'll let up. I force myself to stop.

     "Friday?" I ask, reminding her. She looks around nervously, 'I wonder who saw that' written all over her face. "And I've been invited to a kind of corporate party on Saturday if you want to go."
     She smiles and turns back to me. "You'd expected me to say no?"
     I smile back and pull out my phone. I go ahead an make reservations for Friday night at a nearby place, winking at Emily as I walk away a few paces. I like to have a reservation if I can help it. Of course, the right tip can always get me a table if I need one.
     As for Saturday, I'm pretty sure Miss Franco did not say she'd have me and a plus-one on the guest list, but if they don't let Emily in, I don't come in either. My gut tells me losing the Franco business would be no great loss in the long run. For some reason, the surname sounds familiar, and that's not always a good thing.

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