If at any time during the initial meeting with Sam or now Gabi, they felt the slightest bit threatened, the meeting ended, and the ability to do business with the client dissolved.
“What has you dismissing him so quickly?”
“The few bits of information about the man available have recently been laced with an assault charge. The charges were dropped long before the case could see a judge. Then there was an accusation that Mr. Blackwell had been found with three women in the back of his limo after a fundraiser in Dallas.”
“Since when do we listen to the gossip magazines?”
“We don’t,” Sam defended. “But one of the girls was allegedly seventeen. I’m digging into that now. But if this guy likes underage girls, I’m not setting him up with anyone.”
Warning bells rang inside Gabi’s head. “How soon will we know the facts?”
“I have a few people working on it now. In the meantime, I need his numbers crunched.”
The warning bell rang a second time.
“Sounds like a risk.”
“He is. But my head isn’t in this right now with Jordan back in the hospital. I know I’m distracted and wouldn’t want my personal life to interfere with my business.”
“Oh, Sam . . . I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard.” Samantha’s sister Jordan had lost her ability to really live much of a life years before. As a young woman, Jordan attempted to take her life and ended up having a massive stroke, leaving her severely compromised. Gabi didn’t know all the details, but she did know that Samantha and Blake cared for the now thirty-year-old woman out of their home. A twenty-four-hour private nurse still couldn’t keep away some of the decay and issues being stuck in a wheelchair without all her faculties created.
Since Gabi had moved to California, Jordan had been admitted to the hospital at least half a dozen times.
“So you’ll take care of Blackwell?”
“Consider it done. Do you want me to meet with him?”
“Would you?”
“Don’t be silly. Once the files from your contacts are uploaded in the system, I’ll contact Mr. Blackwell for a meeting.”
Sam sighed into the phone. “Perfect. And if you’re not happy with him . . . with anything . . . feel free to dismiss him as a client. I trust your judgment.”
Gabi hesitated. “But he’s Blake’s friend.”
“Blake knew him and his brother in high school. They kept in touch the first couple of years in college, but they’d never been terribly close. Blake offered some advice over the years, but that’s it. He made it perfectly clear that our decision wouldn’t come between them.”
Some of the tension inside Gabi’s shoulders eased. “Do you want me to tell you of my decision before I tell the client?”
“No need. I’ve got too much going on. Listen, Jordan’s cardiologist is on the other line. I’ve got to go.”
“Go. Call if you need anything.”
“I will.” Without any more, Sam hung up.
Gabi prepared a cup of strong tea and moved into the home office. She sat at a desk that held three massive screens. She opened up the main computer, moved to the interface that linked to Sam’s. Within a couple of minutes, she’d opened Hunter Blackwell’s file.
She skimmed over the contact and personal profile information. It didn’t matter to Gabi if the man was six two or four eleven. She could care less if he’d been married before or if he had children. All Gabi focused on was the numbers.
Really big numbers.
Hunter Blackwell recently made the Forbes list of eligible billionaires and was quickly referred to as high risk for making the list of “Billionaires and Their Outrageous Scandals” that Forbes would post at the end of the year.
Before jumping into the numbers, Gabi cross-referenced the media hype to determine why Blackwell was on Forbes’s radar.
Hours later, her head still buzzing with the caffeinated tea, Gabi heard the grandfather clock sounding once. A crusty plate sat on her otherwise clean desk; three tea bags were now drying beside an empty cup.
She printed out the files she needed and noted the automated change in code to the Blackwell file before switching off her computers.
Gabi tapped the edges of the papers together and leaned back in her chair.
Her body screamed with the hours of inactivity as she stood and walked out of the office.
“Well, Mr. Blackwell. You better be an exceptional man in person or you’re going to have to plead to your latest Bambi to marry you and not take you for all you’re worth.”
Chapter Two
Gabi shoved her nerves into submission and channeled Samantha as she sat in the coffee shop. The site of client meetings never changed. The Starbucks sat in the center of town and had a constant flow of patrons. The location was safe and easily found. Alliance didn’t have an office outside of the room in Gabi’s Tarzana residence. There were five mainframe computers scattered over the States, but Tarzana was the main house. Inviting a client for a formal meeting in an official office wasn’t part of the program.