The Magnate's Manifesto(62)
“Two.” She waved the contract at him. “Did you instruct HR to put that clause in my contract? The one that allows you to demote me for any reason, regardless of my performance?”
His frown deepened. “Yes. But that was before I knew what you were capable of.”
She crinkled up her face. “You stood here and agreed to my terms. You asked me to come to France, to save your reputation and win that contract, when you weren’t intending on honoring our deal?”
He walked toward her, his hands raised as if she were a child who needed to be calmed. “You were an unknown quantity, Bailey. I could hardly make you CMO without an opt-out. Be reasonable.”
“An opt-out?” Her voice lifted a notch. “That clause is way beyond an opt-out. It’s an ironclad opportunity to get rid of me whenever you so choose. Even Nancy said it was unusually…what did she say? Oh, stringent, that was the word.”
“Bailey,” he said quietly, holding her gaze, “that clause has nothing to do with the here and now. You have proven yourself to me. The job is yours. If you like, I’ll have another contract drawn up.”
“What I’d like is to know that you believed in me from the beginning. That you are a man of your word and you were going to honor our agreement.”
He blanched. “Trust is earned.”
“And I gave it to you every step of the way.” She flung the words at him as she brought herself within inches of his tall, imposing figure. “I opened myself up completely to you, Jared. I let you break me down. And all I required in return was the honesty you promised me.”
He shook his head, eyes flashing. “Everything I said to you, promised you over the past couple of weeks, is true, Bailey. Do not let this, do not let your insecurities, ruin a good thing.”
“A good thing.” She barked the words out, hands on her hips. “How long should I expect this good thing to last, Jared? A couple months? Three? Four? You were already backing off the other night as per usual. Then you go completely incommunicado.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been up to my ears, stressed about my father…”
“So you shut me out?” She pressed her lips together, the insecurity, the hurt she’d felt over the past few days, sitting like the devil on her shoulder. “I’m no expert but I’m pretty sure this is where we’re supposed to lean on each other. Be there for each other.”
His mouth tightened. “I’ve been trying. You push too much, Bailey.”
The stubborn tilt of his chin, the forbidding line of his mouth, did her in. “I know you heard me say I love you on the plane, Jared. You ignored it completely.”
He shook his head, his face losing color. “I told you I don’t make promises I can’t keep. It isn’t in my DNA. You knew that.”
He could have said anything, anything but that and she might have been okay with it. But a cop-out like that? It made her chest feel so tight she couldn’t breathe. Because it wasn’t enough anymore. Not when she’d handed him her heart.
She nodded sagely. “Now there’s the honesty I need. Because I’ve decided I can’t do this, Jared. You asked me to open up, to trust you. Well here I am. And if you can’t do the same, I think we should end it now.”
His gaze flashed. “You’re using this as an excuse to end things before it’s started.”
She shook her head. “This is me not wanting to be another casualty of the cult of Jared. I guess it’s not in my DNA to expect anything less than everything.”
“Bailey—” He reached for her, but she shook him off, stalked to the door and left. Enough of this emotional roller coaster.
Jared was debating whether to go after Bailey when Mary stuck her head in his office. “Alexander Gagnon is on the line.”
He cursed. If there was a person he did not want to talk to at this moment in time, it was Alexander. However, as the fate of his company lay in the man’s hands, he had no choice but to.
He shut the door, walked to his desk, sat down and took a deep breath. Then he hit the blinking line.
“Gagnon.”
“Bonjour, Stone.” Alexander’s smooth, silky voice slid over the phone line. “Good news for you. We have decided we would like to offer Stone Industries the partnership.”
The rush of satisfaction that ran through him at Gagnon’s words was swift and sharp. But the burn that stung his eyes, the tremor in his hands as he pressed them against his desk, came from a deeper place. A place he’d been loath to acknowledge. He would have walked, he’d been prepared to walk, but this was his company. To restore what he’d built with his heart and soul to its former brilliance—he wanted it with every fiber of his being.