I blink, then stare at him. “Yes, Oliver. I wasn’t looking for a new decoration.”
“Right,” he says with a small laugh. “Sorry. It’s—never mind. I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you!”
I’m being short and maybe a little rude, but that’s going to be my personality today. I’ll consider it a win if I get through the day without making anyone quit. It’s been a long time since I pissed anyone off that badly. I wasn’t so kind in my younger years, acting more like my father than I’d like to admit, but I’ve worked hard at becoming my own person and refusing to be him.
Oliver returns with a small can of coffee and a mug with the Stone Timeworks logo on it. We have hundreds of them lying around the offices here. He gets it brewing as I start up my computer, a headache coming on.
“Can you bring me some aspirin?” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Long weekend?” he asks. I narrow my eyes, and he smiles, but then it turns into a frown. “Sorry. I’ll get it right away.”
I don’t know if it’s my headache and the lack of sleep, but he’s acting strange today. Lingering too much. Staring for too long. And speaking too much.
It’s not that I hide things from Oliver, but we do keep our relationship strictly business. In all the years he’s worked for me, he’s never questioned my weekend plans. Not once. And I’ve come in in worse shape than this. Maybe he thinks because he’sbeen around so long that we can have these sorts of conversations, but I’d prefer not to.
He returns, handing me two pills.
“I appreciate your concern, Oliver, but let’s stick to work.”
“Of course. I’m sorry.”
“Get me a hard copy of my schedule.”
He nods, then hurries out of the room. I get myself a cup of coffee, black, which doesn’t taste nearly as good as the coffee I got with Chrissy, or the one Cassius brought me, but it’ll do its job.
I bet everyone in that apartment is still sleeping. I told Cassius to text me when he wakes up. He and Camarra were supposed to start work today, but of course I told them they wouldn’t be, considering the day they had yesterday. I don’t care if they take the entire week—or two. Whatever they need.
Eleven comes before I know it, and I hop on the call with my lawyer to go over the details for the situation with the watch.
“Tell me you have good news, Gerard,” I say with a huff.
He grins. “I do.”
“Well, what is it?”
“Best case scenario. Ferroix is standing firm on not knowing the patent was stolen; however, they have agreed to stop all marketing and production on the watches as long as they can pursue charges against David.”
“I thought we were pursuing charges against him? He’sourex-employee.”
“Oh, we are, but they want a shot at him too.”
“Why do they need our permission for that?”
“It’s not so much permission as it is leaving them something to work with. Basically, they want to know that we’re going to allow them to do some damage as well. It really is the best situation. You get what you want, and they get what they want.”
“But the damage is already done. What about that?”
“Come on, Harmon. You know there is nothing we could do about that. It’ll pass. It always does.”
“And what about the designs? I can’t do anything with them now. It’s a crapshoot.”
“But at least they aren’t making money from your company’s designs. Have the team take it and change it, put it in a different color. No one will know the difference.”
I rub my chin.
“Yeah, sure. I guess.”