The text from Troy replayed in my head as I tugged Harper’s hand, leading her to the stairwell door. Thankfully, she followed without question. There was just no way she was finding out this way.
“We needed the exercise.” I shrugged as we came out on the seventeenth floor to catch the elevator, two floors down from where Troy was no doubt banging on my door right now. I pressed the call button and waited.
She crossed her arms. “This your coach’s orders? Every morning, you jog down two flights of stairs?”
I pointed my finger at her. “Did you know that every flight of stairs burns the number of calories of a cup of coffee?” I shrugged. “Zero guilt.”
“So does peeing.” She shook her hips.
We made it to the lobby and I scanned it quickly before running through the door being pulled open for us.
“Morning, Mr. Hartman.”
Sam, our morning doorman usually called us by our first names, but my casual attire must have thrown him off. I whipped out my phone and texted my assistant.
Me:Please ask JP Cleaners to deliver my suits as soon as possible this morning.
We took my car to Lucille’s Cafe a few blocks away—it was one of my favorite spots that served bed and breakfast style food, with the best home fries in the city and a remarkable view of the Brooklyn Bridge. Harper ran to the ladies room as soon as we came in and I ordered for us.
“Be right back with those coffees first,” Rebecca offered with a smile.
“Thanks, Beck.”
I glanced toward the restrooms in the far end of the restaurant and dialed a call I’d missed three times in the last hour.
Eddie Jones answered on the first ring. “What kind of game you playing, Hartman?”
I took it thatice hockeywasn’t the response he was looking for. “I don’t know what you mean, Jones.”
“There’s been no action on my account.”
I looked at my watch absently even though he wasn’t in front of me. “Last I checked, I wasn’t due to start until today.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I knew I was walking on thin ice with the guy if he didn’t see some movement—and fast.
But I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t bite as hard—if not harder.
“You’re right. I’m too loyal to my clients to put their assets on hold. I’ll just have to pass this back on to Jason—”
“No. Look fine, just let me know when you’re on it. I’m paying too much money to have this on the back burner, August.”
I hated when people reminded me of how much they paid me. I was tempted to remind him of what he was benefiting by having me on the account.
“I’m aware,” I replied in the most bored tone I could muster. But I cared. Having Rickley’s Capital under my watch, on top of what he was paying, could be the first step in my partnership in the firm.
A negotiation I was saving for after bonuses are paid at the end of the year. Which was an easy six figures for me.
I was never nervous of losing an account because of my tone. But this one had me at the edge of my seat.
After a long pause, he sighed. “Let’s meet tomorrow morning. I want an update.”
“Afternoon,” I countered, “and have your assistant contact mine.” I was pushing it but I needed the upper hand at all times.
“Fine.” The line went dead.
Harper returned from the bathroom. “God, I thought it’d never stop.” She sat across the booth, holding her bladder.
“What?” I looked up puzzled, nearly forgetting the fact she was here with me.
