"Thought you'd frame him for something to make it worse? He did nothing wrong. Your business sense is as on point as ever, Gerry."
He takes a step towards me trying to be what I imagine he thinks is menacing. But I've been up against bullies like him my whole life. I've been up againsthimmy whole life. The only thing I'm afraid of when it comes to him is getting his slime on me. "Shut up. I see without me here, your head's gotten a little too big. May I remind you that you are not up for the CEO vote for another two months. A lot can happen in that time."
"Is that a threat, Gerry?"
"No, dear nephew. It's a promise." He reaches out, smoothing his hands over my shoulders, his face settling into a grotesque manifestation of all the ugly inside him.
"Get your dirty hands off me."
"Now, now, you don't want to be making a scene here. That's not the behavior befitting a CEO, Kingsley. Not that you'll ever know. Now, are you going to give me access to my office or not?"
"You don't have an office anywhere where it says Baxter on the building. And the sooner you remember that, the better it will be for you."
"Have it your way. For now. Enjoy your little power trip, Kingsley. One last hurrah, before I run you and your little brothers out of this company for good."
"Over my dead body."
He raises an eyebrow. "Don't say I didn't warn you that it might come to that, nephew."
I lurch forward, ready to grab the front of his shirt when a small voice interrupts us.
"Kingsley? We're going to be late for our marketing meeting."
Luna.
I take a deep breath, her voice cutting through the red cloud that descended the second I heard Gerry's voice. If she had called me "Mr. Baxter" I might've missed it. But the sound of Luna calling my name is something I can never ignore. I take a step back, her sheer presence pulling me back into to myself.
"Right." I tug on my shirt cuff, composing myself. "Sorry, just taking care of taking out some trash," I say, looking directly at him.
A smirk slides like glue over his face. The Gerry mask he's shown to the world all these decades.
"I was just leaving," he says, turning to look at Luna.
Then he stops.
"Oh, well, hello, Miss Luna Pham, Ernest Hamilton's daughter. I'm Gerald Baxter. CEO of Baxter Enterprises." He holds his hand out, but she doesn't take it.
Good girl.
He doesn't take the hint, or ignores it, more likely, and steps forward until he's practically pressed up against her, and picks up her hand.
Fuck no.
The red cloud is now a swirling scarlet tornado, heating my anger beyond its boiling point and it wants blood.
His.
I step towards him, but Luna stares me down, shaking her head as he looks her over.
"I've heard all about you, dear. What a surprise it was to learn about your existence at all. Sneaky ol' Ernest keeping you a dirtysecret, hey? But then, family is so strange isn't it? The way they refuse to accept you sometimes. If you ever want someone to commiserate about that, please, just give me a call." He pulls a business card out and hands it to her.
Again, she doesn't move.
Just looks up at him, with a look on her face I've come to know well. The same look she gave the Baked Potato and clowns in the bar.
"I won't be needing that," she says, her voice impassive, cold. "But if you need place to put it, there's a trash can by the exit you'll be walking by soon. I'll be watching to make sure you don't miss it."
He snickers, and lifts her hand, pressing his lips to it as he looks back at me.
