MEREDITH: By the time I finished, it was late at night. I wasn't able to achieve much, and having skipped lunch, I was so hungry. There was also no need to drop by the company since I gave Miles the update over the phone. I just wished I had been more fruitful today. I was prone to prove him wrong, but it wasn't my fault. Immediately I told them that Pierce Empire, sent me, they put me on hold and declined my request for a meeting later on. The whole world must hate that guy. I couldn't blame them because, let's be honest, his portfolio of existence wasn't friendly at all. I took a cab back to the house since he made sure my car didn't come along with me to his house. He hated that car so much. Arriving, I flung my bag across a sofa in the sitting room and headed straight for the kitchen. Isabel was making one of her tasteless weight-loss meals. "Please, Isabel, let me deal with Mr. Pierce later. I want something tasty. Rice, stew, fried ripe plantain, and crispy chicken. A col
MILES: The next morning, an idea struck me, but I wasn't confident to execute it. I needed to figure out how to go about it. I could accomplish it—it was my field of expertise, after all—I was a business person. My main problem was the guilt I felt thinking about my plan. Meredith knocked timidly, waiting until I shouted for her to enter. She came in, carefully carrying a coffee, and set it on my desk. "This is a peace offering for the unproductive meeting yesterday." "Do you think we are friends?" I asked. "I don't understand." "Miss Tate, do you think we are friends?" "I thought you would appreciate a cup of coffee, and I needed to apologize for yesterday, since I was unable to meet you in your office last night as you requested. I fell asleep after I showered." I glowered at her. "Stop thinking, Miss Tate. We are not friends. You're my employee. A subordinate. If I summon you, you come running. Thank you for the coffee. I will take it. But next time, instead of coffee, bring
MILES: The early morning hours were still peacefully quiet when the steady hum of the treadmill resonated under my feet as I raced along. Today, I wanted to train alone, so I made use of the in-house gym while Brandon and Meredith trained outside. I had requested not to be disturbed until I was done. I hardly slept last night, and my mood was dark. Sweat dripped down my back and face. I picked up my towel and wiped it away roughly, tossing it aside. My iPod connected to JBL speakers blared with heavy music, but it still wasn't loud enough, so I turned it up, grateful the gym was soundproofed. Even if it weren't, I didn't care who heard my playlist. I kept going at an almost frantic pace. I had gone over all my options and plans in the dark of the night, arriving at two solutions. My first thought had been that if Richard got me in, I could try to bluff my way through the meeting, telling Steele only vague details of the woman who supposedly changed my life and, therefore, me. If I
MILES: The building housing the STEELE club towered over every other one around it. It was bold, stood out, and was a vast skyscraper of steel and glass, surrounded by trees. This was the Headquarters, while the stadium itself was located a bit away. No wonder Steele was refusing to give it up to just anyone. Who would carelessly relinquish such a beauty? The outside had an equivalent structure to my company. At Steele, it was more like a family business, as Richard had said, maintaining the name Steele even though it had been passed down and handled by over five generations. The only things that changed were their jersey, the management of the club, and the technology brought to the company. The name remained the same, and I learned from my research that every firstborn of the family was named Steele. What a weird but unique tradition. The one in charge this time around was named Steele Aarhus. I intended to honor what gave them the knowledge of cherishing such a thing. Changing it
MILES: "I'm sorry." I glanced at the screen, hoping I didn't appear too dramatic. "I need to take this. I apologize." "No problem, Miles." He smiled. "I need a coffee refill." I turned away as I answered. "Meredith," I murmured, pitching my voice low. For a moment, there was silence, then she spoke. "Mr. Pierce?" "Yes." I chuckled, knowing I had confused the hell out of her. She must think she was in some kind of trouble because I only called her by her first name if she was in trouble. But it was mixed signals because if she were in trouble, my voice wouldn't be this patient. "Um, you asked me to call you before lunch for further directions on what to do." "Are you done with Neymar?" I questioned. "Yes?" "Okay, brief me when I return. Still hold on to the project. We have a far more important one now. Every other one can wait. Is everything all right there?" She sounded shocked when she replied, "Mr. Pierce, are you all right?" "Of course, I am." I couldn't resist teasi
MILES: "Interesting," Steele leaned on the table. His facial expression had changed from analytical to genuinely interested. Truly, the way to this man's heart was through family. What was the way to my heart? Hmm. I was yet to find out. "Her eyes are always reprimanding me. Everyone loves her in and outside the office." I wavered, trying to think of more. "She hates to be woken any earlier than necessary. Her voice gets all hoarse, which makes me laugh. We are still fighting over her gym time." He smiled encouragingly. "She keeps me in line—she's an amazing assistant too, and I'd be lost without her." I sighed, unsure what else I could add. "She's undoubtedly too good for me," I admitted, knowing deep down it was true. I was certain I was the bad person in this scenario, especially given what I was currently doing. "You sent her to meet with me. I had declined, not knowing this. I don't believe bloggers these days because they tend to run with anything that gives them money. And
MEREDITH: "I don't understand," I murmured to Neymar, who was finalizing the report we had been compiling after we returned from our little afternoon of fun. Whatever came over Miles to give us free time, again, I was grateful. "You see, if we do it this way, food production growth would go up by 250%. From here, if the club acquisition is successful, we can hire chefs who would cultivate raw materials from the farms and use them in cooking for both the staff and players. We'll be cutting back on feeding expenditures for everyone. It might even be extended to the entire Pierce Empire. All our cafeterias will utilize the same products," he explained, a hint of excitement in his voice. "Would he buy this idea?" I asked, trying to remain calm, though my heart raced with hope. "It is a good one, but who knows what he's thinking." "I know." Neymar sighed. "Do you think his meeting with Steele went well?" I swallowed the lump in my throat. It was best to be optimistic and not think abou
MEREDITH: Carrying his snacks, I approached his office with trepidation, my heart pounding in my chest. I knocked softly, entering only when he bade me to come in. I would never make the mistake of storming into his office without confirmation; Neymar had made that error once and had nearly paid with his life. My hand trembled slightly as I placed his snacks before him and readied my notebook, waiting anxiously for his instructions. "Sit down, Miss Tate," he commanded, his voice unnaturally calm. Alarm bells rang in my mind. This man was a walking tornado that could erupt at any moment. His calmness was unsettling, making it difficult to gauge the appropriate response. I preferred the blunt and chaotic Miles – at least then I knew what to expect. I fought to keep my breathing even as I lowered myself into the chair, my legs trembling. "Is there a problem, Mr. Pierce?" I asked, clearing my throat. He waved a finger in the space between us. "Whatever we are going to discuss in this