Page 63 of Negotiation Tactics
“Why did he change his mind?”
Everything I know and thought of Alistair Devon turns into one big mess, and I have no idea what to feel or think anymore. I don’t know whether to be glad or angry,or both, so I ignore all of that in lieu of being happy that the people I fought for have won. That I helped them win, even if it wasn’t entirely my own doing.
Brady hums thoughtfully, propping his chin on his palms. The gesture is a little funny coming from a massive guy like him, and it makes me smile.
“I don’t think he did,” he says, his tone mischievous. “Change his mind, that is. I think he simply decided to follow through on it.”
No way… that’s impossible.
I squint at Brady, my insides twisting and my lungs working overtime to get enough air flowing through me. “What… Are you saying he stood up to his father?”
“Maybe?” he hedges, winking playfully, and stands up.
That’s a fucking yes. Oh my god… Still, it doesn’t explain why. Alistair and I parted on the worst possible terms, and he didn’t seem at all interested in doing what’s right. So what changed?
I’m about to demand details, but Brady halts me, waving his phone at me. “I gotta run. Golf with a business partner.” He rolls his eyes. “Believe it or not, it’s the only way to make men who are of a certain age do business with you.”
“You can’t drop this on me and then just leave! What the fuck happened?”
He laughs, tapping his fingers against the door frame. “It’s really not my place, but… Well, let’s just say that there might have been a lot of shouting involved, a broken vase, a very impressive business plan with those fancy slideshow animation thingies, and an ultimatum that had my balls tingling with awe.”
He’s out of the room in a flurry of motion, the door closing after him as I clutch the contract close to my chest. I’ve no idea what nonsense Brady was on about, but it doesn’t matter.
Because I won.
I can’t believe this. I’m vibrating, excitement and euphoria coursing through my veins and fueling the rush of adrenaline slithering through me. I fucking won! I pulled off a miracle. This is crazy. And it’s also partially thanks to Alistair. I don’t know why he changed his mind, but he did. He chose to do the right thing, to put his employees first.
I call my mom, barely managing to form coherent sentences as I explain to her what happened. She’s just as happy as I am and so is Mariam when I tell her the amazing news.
“You did it, Josh!” my coworker and friend shrieks on the other end of the call. “I’m so proud of you!”
I am too and it’s the best feeling ever. This accomplishment takes me to the top of the world, flooding me with joy and relief and pride. “I need to let Izzy and Simon know,” I breathe out, grinning like a fool. “Shit, Mariam, we won. We really won!”
“Youwon,” she amends.
“No, I… don’t…” I trail off, leaving things unsaid though not doubting she knows what I’m thinking about.
If not for Alistair doing a one-eighty turn, this wouldn’t have happened.
“Did you call him?” she asks carefully.
“No. I wanted to let you and mom know first. And Izzy. I’ll call her first.”
“Do that,” Mariam agrees. “And then call him. I’m curious to know why he changed his mind after you made an idiot out of him in front of his own employees.”
I flinch. This wasn’t my best day, but I don’t regret doing it. He needed to be put in his place, and besides, I was flipping out. “You and me both.”
I hear some rustling on the other end, like she’s changing the hand that holds the phone. “We need to celebrate, but I’m not sure I can organize something on such short notice.” She makes a thinking sound. “How about putting something together for the end of the week? But I’ll bring in cake tomorrow.”
We both laugh, my heart swelling from how happy I feel. “Cake sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mariam!”
I practically skip out of Devon Holidays’ HQ, calling Izzy the moment I board the train home. We chat the entire time, only hanging up once I’ve reached my apartment. It crosses my mind to call Alistair as I enter my lounge, but I use the ten percent remaining battery on my phone as an excuse to procrastinate it, and then I have to make dinner, eat, shower… I’m scared, and don’t know why. I don’t know what to say or how to talk to him. I was an ass, and he was too, but despite the various hiccups, he pulled his weight eventually. He fulfilled his promise and did what was right.
Does this mean he’s not a rich asshole? That he’s a good person, who just needed a bit of a push? Does this mean I wasn’t wrong to believe in him?
I don’t know. Everything is a mess. I want an explanation from him, I want to see him too, to talk and understand what just happened. But at the same time, what if he doesn’t want to talk to me? What if he decides to go back on all the progress we made today just because I’m being an annoying fly on his wall?
By the time I can no longer delay the inevitable with silly excuses, it’s almost two a.m. I hover my finger over hisnumber, scowling at it. Fuck, now it’s way too late to call, so I guess I’m doing it first thing tomorrow.
