Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I hold up the food in question.
He nods toward the other attorneys while continuing his conversation.
“Thank you!” the guys each say quietly, quickly accepting the plates.
I rush out to get drinks, sweeping my gaze around to make sure everyone out here is still good to go. Then I start to make Hudson a plate. I’m not sure what kind of pizza he likes and I can’t ask him while he’s on the phone, so I just give him my favorites: plain pepperoni and a slice of supreme. I add a little salad on the side and, on a hunch, grab him a Coke too.
Back in his office, I find him leaning over his desk, still on the phone, his stress ball forgotten near an empty coffee cup. He watches me as I walk in with his plate and drink. It feels like miles between his door and his desk. I manage to get there without stumbling and spilling his soda everywhere, but only because I take small, measured steps and hold my breath the whole time, thus pleasing the karma gods.
Because I’m not about to accidentally get grease stains on anything important, I set his plate down on the farthest corner of his desk. I straighten and am about to flee as quickly as possible, but I realize he’s still watching me with careful reverence.
I look to him, mouthing, “Greek salad,” so he’ll know what to expect. Then, “Pepperoni. Supreme,” pointing at each of the pizzas. Uh, duh. It’s a little unnecessary to explain to someone living in Chicago what pepperoni pizza looks like, but too late to backtrack now.
He shakes his head and mouths, “Have you eaten?”
I shake my head right back, and even though no sound leaves his lips, I’m still absolutely certain from his furrowed brow that he’s not pleased with me or my answer.
He’s the one actually wheeling and dealing here. He needs the sustenance.
“Eat,” he mouths.
I shake my head, and his eyes narrow. I roll my eyes, and before I know it, he’s reached out his leg to hook the side of a chair positioned behind me. With his foot, he drags it closer until it bumps the back of my legs. He points, and I sit. Then he waves for me to take a slice. I go for the pepperoni, and he takes the supreme.
“Did you already meet with Nicholson?” he asks the person on the phone.
God.
His voice.
It’s…toe-curling. That’s what it is. My damn toes are trying to curl in my pumps, and I should be focusing on this pizza and minding my own business. I’d stand and leave if not for the fact that I’m curious about the crisis situation and the person he’s on the phone with. Is it TJ? Did the FTC get back to us? The DOJ? Is that why everyone’s in a tizzy tonight?
I peer over at Hudson from beneath my lashes and find his attention has strayed to my legs—specifically the stretch of thigh exposed by my skirt riding up a little.
I go rigid and he looks away, but truthfully, it might have been a coincidence. His expression was sort of far-off, like maybe he didn’t even realize where he was looking. He didn’t flinch or show any other outward signs of guilt, so I write it off and listen as their phone call concludes and Hudson hangs up.
“The pizza’s good. Are you going to eat that salad?”
“No, here. It’s yours. The Coke too.”
I give him a minute to eat before I bombard him, though apparently that was everyone else’s plan too. He’s immediately flooded with questions and demands for an update. I just sit like a deer caught in headlights, absorbing every second.
Everyone else seems to be wide-eyed and nervous, but Hudson isn’t fazed by the intensity of the situation, which actually has nothing to do with the FTC clearance process. Or it does, but not in the way I initially suspected.
The big news of the day is this: our big pharmaceutical merger is headed south and fast. KinBio and Chapman International are suddenly at odds because Chapman’s bankers claim (as of today!) that their evaluation of our client, KinBio, shows a rapidly eroding financial profile.
Hudson thinks this is “complete and utter bullshit.”
The fact is, Chapman International first approached KinBio with an unsolicited buyout offer three years ago. KinBio turned down that deal and a subsequent one that came a year later before they were finally persuaded to play ball when Chapman agreed to pay KinBio a $570 million breakup fee contingent upon the DOJ and FTC’s antitrust ruling. Meaning, if the two companies were prohibited from merging, Chapman International would owe KinBio a lot of money as a consolation prize for all that wasted time and effort.
And guess what decision is looming on the horizon!?
Dum dum DUM…