Negotiated Read online

  Negotiated

  Marni Mann

  Contents

  1. Scarlett

  2. Hudson

  3. Scarlett

  4. Hudson

  5. Scarlett

  6. Hudson

  7. Scarlett

  8. Hudson

  9. Scarlett

  10. Hudson

  11. Scarlett

  12. Hudson

  13. Scarlett

  14. Hudson

  15. Hudson

  16. Scarlett

  17. Hudson

  18. Scarlett

  19. Hudson

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Marni’s Midnighters

  About the Author

  Also by Marni Mann

  Sneak Peek of Seductive Shadows

  Chapter One

  Copyright © 2018 by Marni Mann

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at www.MarniSMann.com

  Cover Designer: Letitia Hasser, R.B.A Designs

  Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  Proofreader: Judy Zweifel, Judy’s Proofreading, and Kaitie Reister

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-1720704027

  For Ricky.

  You fought for this one like a true bestie.

  Like usual, you won.

  One

  Scarlett

  “Scarlett Davis, I wish you’d just give me what I asked for,” Hudson said in a sharp voice once I answered my phone.

  I hit Speaker and dropped it onto my desk, my hands returning to my computer to finish the email I’d been typing. “You asked for our most up-to-date numbers.”

  “I did.”

  I smiled because it gave me so much satisfaction to say, “And that’s what I sent you.”

  Hudson Jones was an attorney hired by Entertainment Management Worldwide, the management company that The Agency—the business I owned with my three best friends—was partnering with. Once the merger was complete, the actors, athletes, and musicians who were signed with us would then have access to managers in addition to the representation and PR services we currently offered.

  That was, if the deal ever went through.

  My partners—Brett Young, Jack Hunt, and Max Graham—and I weren’t budging on the terms of the contract. And to show why we didn’t have to, this morning, I’d sent Hudson a breakdown of the revenue we’d earned for the previous two months—the amount of time that had passed since he last saw our books. It included Brett’s newest client, an actor earning forty-five million a movie, Jack’s recently acquired quarterback who was worth one hundred ten million, and the two pop stars Max had signed to labels, worth fifty million each.

  “What you gave me was a forecast. There’s no way your revenue jumped ten percent in two months.”

  Conversations like the one we were having used to only take place between Hudson and our attorney. My attorney would then forward me Hudson’s questions, write something irrelevant, and bill us an astronomical amount for the two minutes it had taken him to be the middleman.

  I’d put a stop to it.

  If Hudson wanted something, he would come directly to me.

  And, lately, that had been happening all the time.

  “Mr. Jones, I’m not a weatherman. I’m an accountant. The last set of figures you received is real; they’re not a projection. But what they do is prove that I have no reason to negotiate any of the terms we’re requesting.”

  “Everything is negotiable.”

  “We both know that isn’t true.” I crossed my arms over the edge of the desk and then rubbed at the corners of my eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”

  “Scarlett, there are two items still on the table. The percent of equity my clients want and the buyout terms. We’ve gone over both, and I highly suggest you take the numbers we’ve offered. They’re more than fair.”

  This fucking guy.

  Since the moment he had first called me, there wasn’t a single item Hudson and I hadn’t argued about. And, before we’d even spoken, our attorney had tried battling it out with him.

  I understood the term hard-ass.

  I was one.

  So were my three partners.

  We had high expectations that we wanted to be met.

  But this man wasn’t just a hard-ass. He was quickly becoming the biggest pain in my ass.

  “Let me explain this in words you’ll understand, Mr. Jones. What we provided was our final offer. If your clients would like to concede, we’re ready to sign. If not, we’re prepared to walk. Remember, we didn’t approach them. They approached us.”

  A few seconds passed before he said, “We need to talk in person. I’m scheduling a meeting for Thursday.”

  I glanced toward my computer, clicking on my calendar.

  Thursday was two days from now.

  And Hudson practiced in LA, which was on the opposite coast as Miami.

  “Early afternoon works best,” he added. “I’ll have my assistant reach out to coordinate your arrival.”

  While we chatted, which we’d done only twice, I pictured him to be about forty-five, making him fourteen years older than me. I imagined him bald, even more nasally in person, suffering from short-man syndrome with a horrible case of bad breath.

  Once I had his description locked down, I’d envisioned his expression when I told him we weren’t caving and again when I won this deal. And, lastly, when I told him his demands were bullshit.

  I’d responded to everything he’d asked for up until this point.

  Now, I was done.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said. “I’m not coming all the way—”

  “The meeting is in two days, Scarlett. In LA. Have your assistant reach out to mine.”

  Just as I opened my mouth to reply, the phone went dead.

  I stared at the screen.

  That dickhead had hung up on me.

  God, he has balls.

  I left my phone on the desk and went down the hall, looking inside each of my partners’ offices. The only one here was Brett, so I knocked before I opened his door and poked my head in.

  He glanced up from his computer, and I said, “Got a second?”

  “Yeah. Of course.” He waved me in, and I took a seat across from his desk. “You look like you’re about to fuck someone up.”

  “That would be Hudson Jones.”

  He pushed back from his desk and crossed his foot over his knee. “Fucking Christ. What’s his issue now?”

  “He’s not bending.”

  He sighed, shaking his head back and forth. “How far apart are we?”

  “Five points.”

  “That’s significant.”

  “Brett, it’s what we deserve. Every calculation I’ve made proves it. Our attorney even agrees.”

  The heel of his shoe started clinking against the edge of his desk. “We either need to get this wrapped up or squash the deal. But the lawyers are dragging this out, and every day that passes, they make more goddamn money off of us.”

  I knew how much our attorney would earn off this partnership, and it made me sick to my stomach.

  “Hudson wants me to go to LA and meet with him on Thursday.”

  “For wha
t?”

  I shrugged. “I assume he wants us to come to an agreement.”

  His eyes moved to his computer, and he used his mouse to click on the screen. “I’ll be in New York on Thursday.”

  “I know. Max will be in Vegas, and Jack will be in Atlanta, so none of you are available to go with me.”

  “What about our attorney?”

  I’d thought about this same thing as I walked down the hall toward his office.

  “I don’t think I’ll need him. I won’t be there to sign anything; I’ll be there to talk.”

  “No, you’ll be there to fucking battle.”

  I smiled. “Precisely.”

  “Get what you want, get him to agree, and get this deal done.”

  I hadn’t expected to close out the final round of negotiations. But, since the very beginning, I had taken the lead on this merger. It’d started when the three owners of Entertainment Management Worldwide—Jayson Brady, Blake Hunter, and Shane Walker—reached out through email. They’d expressed their interest, and after a bit of research, I’d decided to meet with them. Once I’d had a better understanding of what they were looking for, I’d pitched the idea to my partners.

  At first glance, the contract they’d provided looked pretty decent. But, once I’d begun to dig into the numbers and break them down, I had known we needed much more.

  That was four months ago.

  And it still felt like we were miles apart.

  “This is the last chance,” Brett warned. “I’m not going another round with them, and neither are you.”

  By end of day Thursday, I’d know if we were going to gain a partnership that would net us millions, making us the highest-grossing agent and management firm in the country, or if all the hard work I’d put in would be for nothing.

  It was all coming down to me.

  The only partner who didn’t negotiate for a living.

  Instead, I was the chief financial officer. I’d been working behind the scenes since the day we opened the business. But I’d grown up with these guys, I’d gone to college with them, I’d lived with them for years, and we’d spent our entire career together.

  In that time, I’d learned how to hold my own.

  So, if Hudson thought I would just lie on my back and take whatever he gave me in Thursday’s meeting, then he’d read me all wrong.

  Personally, I liked that position when it involved a headboard and handcuffs.

  But, when it came to my job and the livelihood of my partners, I was the dominant one.

  Soon, he would see that side of me.

  I stood from the chair and moved behind it. “I’ll make the right decision for all of us. Don’t worry; I won’t disappoint.”

  “You never have.”

  Two

  Hudson

  I was at my desk, working on an email, when my office line began to ring. I checked the screen at the top of the phone and saw that it was my assistant calling, so I hit the Speaker button and said, “Yes?”

  “Everything is all set up, Mr. Jones. I’ve spoken with my contacts in both of the places that we discussed, and they promise to give you whatever information you want.”

  I pulled back the black diamond cuff link to check my watch. The platinum hands on the Rolex showed it would be several more hours until her contacts needed to come through. If they didn’t, they weren’t getting a dime from me. Neither was my assistant because her ass would be fired by the morning.

  “I want to be notified the second your contacts hear or see anything. Do you hear me?”

  “My phone won’t be leaving my hand until you get what you’re looking for.”

  I took my fingers off the keyboard and looked toward my office door where I knew she was sitting only a few feet away. “Tina?”

  “Yes, Mr. Jones?”

  “Don’t fuck this up.”

  I hung up, and my inbox showed a new email had come through. It was from my client, Jayson Brady, one of the owners of Entertainment Management Worldwide, who was in the process of partnering with The Agency.

  Hudson,

  Do whatever you have to do to get this deal done. I want the terms agreed upon and the contract signed by next week.

  —Jayson

  I had a week.

  So, it was a good thing I had a hell of a plan.

  Jayson, Blake, and Shane had known what they were doing when they hired me.

  They wanted the best.

  And that was what they were getting.

  * * *

  Six hours later, I was in the private restroom in my office, putting on the gray suit my assistant had picked out. Once I had my shirt tucked in and a tie resting down my chest, I took in the whole outfit.

  Jesus Christ.

  Fucking twenty-something-year-olds.

  They didn’t know anything about men’s fashion.

  If I asked Tina how to post on a goddamn social media site, she’d have that handled in seconds. But ask her to match a suit and tie, and you’d think she was fucking color blind.

  Shaking my head, I said to her, “Give me a better tie,” while she stood outside my door. “The one you chose looks like shit with the gray.”

  “How about—”

  “Give me a black one,” I said, cutting her off.

  The door opened, and she handed me a solid black tie made of silk.

  I wrapped it around my neck, and after approving of the way it looked, I got started on the Windsor knot.

  “The SUV has arrived,” she said from the doorway. “I’m just waiting for confirmation from my contacts, and then you’ll be on your way.”

  I was staring at her from the mirror, watching her shift her weight between both feet, her hands fidgeting at her sides.

  This was the part of her job she didn’t like.

  The things that happened off the clock.

  Still, she was a decent assistant. She just couldn’t hide her emotions, so it was a good fucking thing I never had to bring her to the courtroom.

  I checked the time on my wrist. “I can’t believe your contacts don’t know anything yet. It’s almost nine o’clock.”

  She pointed at the cell phone that she was squeezing between her fingers. “I’ll call them again. Can I get you anything before I close this door?”

  “You can hurry up.”

  As she left, I finished looping my tie through, and then I slipped on my jacket. I took a few steps closer to the mirror and checked my hair, making sure the gel was where it needed to be and that my stubble wasn’t longer than a day’s worth. I grabbed some cologne off the shelf and sprayed my neck. Just as I was setting it back, there was a knock at the door.

  Tina opened it and said, “Here’s the address, Mr. Jones.” She held out her hand, and there was a small piece of paper resting on her palm.

  I took it from her and read what she had written, eventually glancing up. “This can’t be right.”

  “My contacts verified it.”

  The address wouldn’t be known by everyone. But I’d lived in LA for the thirty-eight years I’d been alive, so I knew what went down in this town. And I knew what went down at 555 Pine Street.

  “Do you know what this place is?” I asked.

  She nodded; her expression told me she wasn’t comfortable discussing it. “Will you be able to get in, or do I need to make a phone call?”

  Even though I knew all about it, I’d never been inside.

  “Make the phone call,” I told her. “But make sure you speak to Leanna. She’ll get things handled.”

  Her cheeks flushed.

  She wanted to die of embarrassment.

  It was also a good thing that I didn’t find her attractive because she’d never survive in my bedroom.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said.

  As she shut the door, I went over to the toilet and dropped the piece of paper into the water. The blue ink ran and swirled around the bowl as I flushed it.

  The last fucking thing I needed was someo
ne to see that in my trash and spread rumors all over town.

  But what I’d done stopped that, and the trail ended here since my assistant, her contacts, and anyone at 555 Pine Street were under contract and couldn’t say anything.

  I stepped out of the restroom, and as I was moving toward the closet, Tina came into my office.

  “I paid the fee and gave them all the information they’d asked for. When you get there, you’re going to have to sign an NDA. Other than that, you’re all set.” Her skin was even redder. “Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jones?”

  “Go home.” When she started following my instruction, I added, “You did good today.”

  She dipped her head and closed the door behind her.

  555 Pine Street, I thought.

  This wasn’t how I’d thought I’d be spending my night.

  But, fuck, I couldn’t have planned it any better.

  Three

  Scarlett

  I sat in the back of the SUV I’d hired for the night, the driver weaving through the traffic in downtown LA. Over the last six months, it was a city I had been finding myself spending more and more time in. That was due to the office we’d built here, The Agency expanding into the market where the four of us had begun our careers. But, over the past few weeks, my trips to the West Coast had died down. Max was now managing things here, and all the staff had been hired. They were operating smoothly, and they just didn’t need me.

  Ironically, I found myself missing LA whenever I returned to Miami.