I walked into my bedroom and opened my closet. What was I going to wear? I perused the contents of my closet and stifled a groan.
“This sucks.” I pulled out a slinky black dress. It was definitely sexy, but not appropriate for a board meeting. There was no way I’d even get through the front doors in that outfit—they’d think I was a hooker. I threw the dress on my bed and looked for something else. I needed to look elegant and sexy and like I belonged. None of my outfits fit the bill. I could call Rosie and borrow something, but I knew she’d have too many questions. I bit my lower lip as I realized I’d have to go shopping. Shopping equaled money, and that was something I didn’t have much of. I had my emergency credit card, though I really didn’t want to use it.
“This is an emergency, though, Bianca,” I muttered to myself. “No outfit means you won’t meet David. If you don’t meet David, you might never gain access to Bradley, Inc. and the family secrets.” I fell back onto the bed and yelped as a hanger bored into my back. I jumped back up and grabbed my handbag. I wasn’t going to worry about money right now. I needed David, so I needed an outfit. That was that.
*
Bright red lipstick glistened on the rim of my glass as I took another gulp of wine to steady my nerves. I’d made it into the building easily. My new navy blue suit had been expensive but worth it. My long dark hair hung straight down my back, with not a wisp of frizz to be found. I knew from the admiring glances of the men around me that I looked good. I’d nearly died at the cost of the makeup at Saks Fifth Avenue. Who knew that concealer and foundation cost so much? Good thing one of the salesgirls had done me up for free. She’d been disappointed when I hadn’t purchased any of the products afterward, but there was no way I was parting with that sort of money for makeup. I’d already gone over budget buying the perfect outfit. However, the fact that I’d been able to waltz into this shareholders’ meeting and had been served a glass of wine before I could even blink told me it was all worth it.
“So, do you have common stock or preferred stock?” A middle-aged man approached me with a leer and I froze.
“I have stock, yes.” I took a sip of wine and nodded at him. I had no idea what the difference between common and preferred stock was. I also didn’t know if there was a difference. Maybe he was testing me?
“Were you pleased with the dividend we received last year?” he continued and moved closer to me, his eyes dropping to my breasts. “I think Mattias is doing a good job, don’t you? I heard he’s going to announce that we’re going to start bidding for government contracts. The self-painter gives us a leg up on a lot of projects. We’ll be able to put in a lot of low bids.”
“The self-painter?” I looked up at him and my heart stopped. My father had invented the self-painter: it was a machine that primed and painted a room at the push of a button and the input of some room dimensions. In fact, I had the patent in one of my boxes at home. along with the first blueprints my father had ever created for the product when he’d first invented it.
“Yeah, it’s what really set Jeremiah apart from everyone else. His products are what really launched Bradley, Inc., though I suppose I don’t need to tell you that.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked suspiciously.
“Well, I assume you know about the company as a shareholder. Not many of us come to these meetings, so I figure you’re involved in your investments, aren’t you?”
“Oh yes, of course.” I offered him a weak smile. “I love to learn about all of my investments.” I took another sip of wine.
“We’re all lucky that Jeremiah Bradley was so innovative,” he said.
“He didn’t invent all of the products though, did he?” I asked sharply, unable to stop myself.
“It doesn’t really matter if he invented them all, does it?” The man’s eyes narrowed. “He owns all the paperwork saying he did.”
“What do you mean?” I frowned, my heart racing. Was I about to find out a vital piece of information?
“I mean you know as well as I do that Jeremiah Bradley wasn’t the most honest—” He paused and I could see that he was regretting his choice of words. “I mean, Jeremiah did what he had to do to grow the company.”
“What did he do?” I prodded. What had Jeremiah Bradley done to gain the patents to all of these inventions?
“I don’t know exactly.” He shook his head and I felt my stomach dropping.
“You have no idea at all?” I said softly and flicked my hair back, while pushing my chest forward. My face was burning in shame as I worked my goods in my favor.
“Well, you know, there are rumors.” His eyes were alight again as he gazed directly at my chest and licked his lips quickly.
“What sort of rumors?”