Chapter Six
1317 Words
Chapter Six
Mike Montclair’s office was decorated in mahogany and maroon. It was calm and regal, and it suited Adalia’s brother’s personality to a tee.
“It’s wonderful to see you, Sis,” Mike rumbled in those dulcet tones, letting her in with a bob of his head. He indicated the leather chair in front of his desk, and she walked over to it and took a seat.
“It’s good to see you, too, Mike. I’m sorry I came on such short notice, but I’ve got a bit of an emergency.” She plopped the dossier on his vast desk and rearranged his name plate. He was a partner in a law firm.
She’d never get over that. Her brother was a total success story, like something out of those semi-condescending Hollywood movies about black kids who grew up bad but ended well.
Their three brothers had died in turf wars or OD’d on drugs, but not Mike. He’d stuck to the books, worked hard and kept to his goals. He was her role model.
Her father was great, though grumpier than usual, but Mike was the real man to her. He’d never accepted handouts, paid off his own student loan and gotten to where he was through blood, sweat and tears.
He circled the desk and took up his chair, then folded his hands in front of himself. “How’s Dad?”
Adalia raised her eyebrows.
“That bad, huh?”
“God knows I love him, but he’s driving me up the wall. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I could use a break from being in the house. He’s as strict as he was when we were growing up, but it’s worse this time around.”
“Worse?” Mike frowned, and crinkles appeared at the corners of his hazel eyes.
“Yeah, he’s not happy at all, and he doesn’t seem happy with me either. He’s got the flu, though, so that might be it.”
“Maybe I ought to pay you guys a visit, check in and smooth over the rough edges.” Mike had always had a way with Dad. They were best friends, and Sylvester respected his son for what he’d accomplished. But Mike had been neglecting his visits lately due to his busy work schedule.
A part of her wanted to resent the fact that Mike was the favorite, but she loved her brother too much to let petty s**t like that get in the way of their relationship.
“If you want to visit, you can. It would be nice and I’m sure it would cheer him up, but Dad is the least of my issues at the moment.”
“Right,” Mike answered, nodding slowly and giving her an expression of sympathy. “I heard about the bakery. I wish you’d come to me about it. I might have been able to help you sort it out.”
“You know how I am about this stuff, Mike.”
“Stubborn.” He chuckled and she picked up an eraser from his stationary holder and chucked it at his head. He caught it deftly then tucked it back where it belonged. “Seriously, you need to loosen up with that kind of thing. Rome wasn’t built in a day and it surely wasn’t built by one man, either.”
“Yeah, but there was an emperor,” she quipped and he rolled his eyes.
“I assume you didn’t come here for a chat about Dad. What’s the problem?” He settled back in his armchair and tilted his head to one side. It was the same action he’d used since they were kids.
She’d lost her favorite teddy bear when she was ten and he’d c****d his head to the side like that, looked at her and politely asked if she didn’t think she was too old to have a teddy bear in the first place.
He was the rational kid on the block.
There was a knock at the door and a young, attractive assistant bustled in. “Good day, Mr. Montclair, here are your messages,” she said, wiggling her hips and handing him the notes.
Mike was oblivious. He accepted them then waved her to the door. “Thanks, Mel. Please make sure there are no further interruptions for the next hour or so.”
“I won’t take that much of your time,” Adalia said, and the assistant shot her a look of pure jealousy. She snapped the door shut behind her. Mike was blessed with good looks and a football player’s physique, so it was no small wonder every woman fell at his feet.
But he never seemed to notice.
“Take a look at this,” she said then slid the dossier over to him. He flipped it open, took out the document and read it through once.
“Interesting,” he said with a head tilt. “Care to elaborate on this?”
“Trent Dawson is –”
“Oh, I know who he is. Major billionaire involved in several charity organizations and a space pioneer to boot. But why did he buy a bakery? It doesn’t seem like a fitting business endeavor for him.”
“That’s what I thought.” Adalia crossed her legs, resigned to the fact that Trent wasn’t interested in a business with her, but rather, in getting into her business.
“Explain,” Mike said, spreading his hands wide.
“Trent and I are familiar with each other.”
He raised a hand. “I don’t want to know the details. I think I get the idea.”
“Right. Well, Trent offered me a bakery a short while after I lost mine. He bought the same property and offered to let me run it as his silent partner. I said no for personal reasons.”
“I understand. Hmm,” Mike paused and cleared his throat, then studied the contract before him again, “I’ve brushed up on my contract law, so I should be able to provide you with some useful insight on this.”
“Please do,” she said, polite as could be. Mike did have a knack for drawing things out. He liked to dissect, rework, dissect again, and then assemble it all into one piece and discuss it for hours at a time.
“He’s not offering to be a silent partner this time around, that much is clear.”
“Then what is he offering? I couldn’t make out anything from that legal jargon. The only thing I recognized was my name, his and the space for the dates and signatures.”
“He wants to work with you. A proper partnership, fifty-fifty.”
“What?! How would that even work when I have no financial backing?”
Mike hummed and stroked the desk, considering his words carefully, no doubt. “Simply put, he’d bring the money in and you’d be in charge of baking and running the business.”
“But that’s the same as a silent partner,” she said.
“No, because it clearly stipulates here,” he answered, pointing to a line of text on the page, “that he’ll be working with you in the bakery itself in charge of marketing. It’s under one of the clauses.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Adalia replied, trembling in her chair. Could he really want this? There was no other reason for him to want it, other than to be close to her. That meant he was into the whole ‘conquest’ thing again.
How disappointing.
“He’s attached a business plan, too. Hold on a sec...” Mike opened up the business plan and rifled through it. Adalia tapped her knees, waiting patiently. She hadn’t even gone through that business plan. She hadn’t wanted to give the concept a chance to enter her brain.
There was no room for hope.
“Yeah, he wants to work as the front man, with you baking in the back.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. What does he stand to gain out of this?”
Mike laughed and slid the business plan back into place. He carefully positioned the contract on top of it, then closed the dossier and gave it back to her.
“What does any business stand to gain? Profit. Revenue.”
“Are you saying this is a legitimate contract?”
“Yes, it is most definitely a legitimate contract and proposition.” He leaned back in his chair and studied her.
“But that doesn’t mean I should sign. I mean, this is too weird.”
Mike Montclair rested his arms on the armrests and gave her a knowing smile. “Adalia, you should go for it.”
- Writer
