Changing the bad boy

Chapter 9

VALERIE POV:

Preston is in an even worse mood after Mr. Demers leaves and that says a lot since he usually seems to be in a crappy mood. He marches out of his office, blue eyes blazing, and demands I order an expensive bottle of whiskey as a gift for a birthday party tomorrow night before he continues to Andrew's office, where he slams the door shut behind him. Okay then.

His temper tantrums are almost on the same level as Bella's.

While I'm not surprised by his moodiness, his current actions seem to be a bit out of character, even for him.

I'm not the only one that thinks so, either. Both Lydia and Alana jolt next to me when the door slams shut.

"What happened with him today?" Lydia asks.

"I'm not sure.", but I think it has something to do with the Marramount account and being so much more than three million over budget. Preston was mad after he met with Demers and demanded he copy me and Preston on every change going forward, no matter how small.

"There's some tension there, "Alana whispers. But she doesn't seem upset about it, and I get the impression she'd offer to help him relive it if she didn't think she'd risk her job doing so. Or maybe even with the risk from the way she smacks her lips together.

"Mmhmm," Lydia agrees. "I swear, as fine as that man is, I think he has a man period."

I bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud because that's a pretty spot-on observation.

"Do you know whose party it is?" I ask Lydia and Alana as I pull up the browser on my computer to shop for something I know nothing about other than I don't like the taste of it.

"Their father's," Lydia responds.

"Oh, shit."

That means it has to be something good

I haven't met Pierce Cartwright yet because he's been in England on business, or so I was told. But I am surprised that I haven't heard anything about his birthday or an upcoming party. As he's the CEO of the company, wouldn't the management want to make sure the employees knew it was his birthday so he could be celebrated?

"Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright throw a huge party at their house every year," Alana explains. "It's a black-tie event with lots of celebrities. You'll find pictures online for weeks afterward."

"Yeah, it's quite a big event for people who want to be seen."

The way Lydia says it, with a dreamy smile on her lips, makes me think she wants to be there and be seen.

It sounds interesting and is something else I have to ask Fiona about. I bet she knows all about these parties from her favorite social media accounts.

"Is that why they had their tuxes dry-cleaned?" I ask because it would make sense. Both Preston and Easton had me pick up their tuxedos on Wednesday.

"Yes. Hayes and Andrew did too."

"Huh."

I can't believe people own tuxedos. The only Tear not name when they need to, like to get married.

"They look so good in those tuxes," Alana says with a dreamy look on her face."Especially Preston."

I believe that too. The man is smoking hot in a regular suit.

"I'd give anything to be there," Lydia sighs.

"Me, too," Alana responds.

I say nothing because I don't have an interest in going to an event with people I don't know. And even if I was invited, I wouldn't have anything to wear.

Alana begins to describe her dream gown, so I return my attention to the computer.

The most popular whiskeys sell for anywhere from $ 50 to $150, but that doesn't seem like it would be enough for Preston to give to his father at a black-tie event.

"So, how much is an expensive bottle of whiskey?" I ask as I pull up a listing of the store's availability. "Five hundred?"

"I'd say more than that, "Alana responds, and I swallow, hard. I threw out five hundred, thinking it might be too much. Almost like a joke, but clearly, I was wrong.

"Yeah, I'd go about a thousand," Lydia adds like that's a normal amount to spend on a bottle of alcohol.

A thousand dollars? Holy s**t.

"Okay, thanks," I respond like it's the most normal thing in the world to order a bottle of whiskey for over a thousand dollars. But my stomach is turning over and I'm instantly nauseous. It costs me less than that to repair my car, something that's vital for me to keep this job and I'm struggling to pay for that. But a thousand dollars for a bottle of whiskey is apparently nothing to Preston.

I purchased Preston's account and scheduled it to be delivered to his apartment in the morning, noting his very posh downtown address. Must be nice.

Once that's done, I decided to familiarize myself with the Paramount project. If Mr. Demers is going to copy me on the emails he sends to Preston, I should have an idea what it's about.

I tune out Lydia and Alana, who are busy discussing who so-and-so is and whether they will be at Pierce Cartwright's birthday party, and pull up the Paramount account.From what I overheard during Preston's meeting with Mr. Demers, the project is ridiculously over budget, and while I'm no CFO, I have an accounting degree and I did run a business, so I'm familiar with budgets. Not on this scale, of course, but I should at least be able to

understand some of it.

I'm actually kind of excited to have something else to do other than booking appointments, scheduling trips, and doing other mundane office work.

Reviewing invoices and comparing them to budgets is something I'm familiar with. I don't know anything about blueprints, but that doesn't mean I can't learn.

I searched through the folder and found the original budget, which seems as good of a place as any to start. But I almost choked on my saliva when I saw that the original estimate was for $25 million.

However, from the look of the condo drawings, which will range from one bedroom to four bedrooms with three penthouse suites on the top floor. they are expected to sell from anywhere from $ 500,000 to $3.5 million each. That seems like quite a good return on the money if you ask me. Very good actually, considering there are six floors.

I review the proposals and the plans further and realize how many condos they actually plan on making, and that there is already an attached parking garage.

I'm more than impressed.

This is a really smart business.

The designer renderings of the units and the architect's drawings of the building are beautiful. The plan is to leave the industrial look of the old brewery with exposed brick walls, high ceilings, and open ductwork.

while installing new sunny and very fancy-looking kitchens and baths.

Damn, the rich people live nicely, and it seems like the Cartwright family knows the business they're in.

I open up another tab on the website and locate the artist's rendering of what the building will look like once it's finished and find myself smiling. It's a damn good look.

They are keeping the dark brownish-red brick facade with its tall windows and massive front door. Added lighting, some green space with trees and colorful flowers, and walkways to a parking garage and down to the waterfront promenade tie it all together.

I have a feeling the units Will sell fast despite their steep prices.

A small icon appears on the screen when I click back to the main folder. It wasn't there earlier, so I opened it and realized it was a subfolder to the Marramount account that was just set up by Peter.

Figuring Preston wants all the information for the project, I print those documents as well and get up to get them from the printer. The stack is about half an inch. I add that to the pile already on my desk since Preston is still with Andrew and return to reviewing the initial budgets we have on file from five years ago.

I'm in the middle of the revised budget when I hear Alana's tone change and her voice goes up a notch, which is unusual. "Yes, Hanna," she says into her headset. "I have relayed your message to Preston."

I'm pretty sure she hasn't from what she told me the other day, but I guess there's a possibility she changed her mind and did, although I doubt it. I don't think Alana is the kind of woman who likes competition for Preston's attention. "He's in a meeting right now," Alana continues. When I look over at her, she rolls her eyes and makes a spinning gesture with her fingers, signaling she thinks the caller is nuts.

"I can transfer you to his voice mail?" she offers, but that does not seem to satisfy the woman on the phone and Alana chuckles into the phone, "No I cannot interrupt his meeting to let him know you are on the phone."

Lydia's perfect eyebrows quirked up and she looked as intrigued as I felt. What the heck is going on? Has Preston gotten himself a bona fide stalker?

"His voicemail is the best I can do," Alana says in a tone meant to mean business.

When she finally hangs up, Lydia laughs. "Are you kidding me?" she says to Alana. "That's the second call today."

"Yeah " Alana nods with a sigh. "This woman is nuts. I don't know what else to do." Seems like it's a mess Preston might need to take care of himself, but I will not suggest that out loud, which is probably a good thing because Andrew's door opens and Preston steps out. He appears a bit calmer, but his eyes are still a burning intense blue when they meet mine. And damn it to hell. His penetrating gaze has me wanting to squirm all over my chair.

I get what the women see. I do. He's hot as sin.

"Any issues?" Preston asks me, and my mind goes temporarily blank because there are a few I can think of, one of them being my mission

"With the gift?" he clarifies.

Oh...

"No." I shake my head for emphasis. "It will be delivered to your apartment tomorrow morning."

"Great. Thanks," he says with a small nod and leaves for his office.

I expected some kind of complaint, maybe some yelling, but not a thank you. That was new. Preston has never thanked me before, just made demands.

I lean back on my chair and smile. I could get used to this.