“Okay, lover. We’ll chat later.”
After we hung up, I busied myself with the one hundred pages of Excel spreadsheets management had sent my way. I was finding out quickly the asshole who had run this position prior to me didn’t give a shit about tracking expenses. The franchise would be lucky if their marketing investments broke even by the end of the fiscal quarter. No wonder he got the boot and they offered me the job at the drop of a hat.
Three soft knocks at the door grabbed my attention.
“Come in,” I answered, glancing up from my computer.
A young man in his early twenties, and pretty much too adorable for words, hesitantly walked in. The Breakaway Courier logo was etched on his navy blue polo. His hands gripped a thick envelope.
“Georgia Cummings?” he asked, standing in front of my desk.
“That’s me.” I got up from my chair. “What can I help you with?”
“I’ve got an urgent delivery for you.” He pulled a small black tablet from his backpack. “Mind giving me a signature?”
“Uh, sure…” I responded, slightly confused. “But are you sure this is for me? I wasn’t expecting anything today.”
“Definitely for you. I had strict orders to make this my next stop.”
My brow rose. “Really?”
He nodded, holding the tablet out for my signature.
“Did they tell you who it’s from?” I asked, signing and taking the package from his hands.
He shook his head and shrugged. “No clue, but apparently, it’s really important.”
“Okay, well, thanks.”
I scanned the front of the manila envelope for a clue. Only my name and office address were written across the center, along with the words, Urgent. Open and read immediately.
“Have a nice day, Ms. Cummings.”
“Thanks. You too,” I mumbled.
My fingers slid beneath the lip of the envelope, breaking the seal. Still bewildered, I pulled out a thick stack of legal documents and skimmed the first page.
Business Purchase Agreement
This agreement is made on Monday, October 15th.
Between
1. Kline Matthew Brooks, Brooks Media, (the “Selling Party”) and
2. Georgia Rose Cummings, (the “Buying Party”)
This Business Purchase Agreement (this “Agreement”) is made and entered into on Monday, October 15th, by and between, Kline Matthew Brooks, having its principal office of business at Brooks Media, 15 Fifth Avenue New York, NY (“Seller”), on the one hand, and Georgia Rose Cummings (“Buyer”) on the other hand. Buyer and Seller are collectively referred to as (the “Parties”) and are sometimes referred individually as a (“Party”).
RECITALS:
WHEREAS, Seller is the owner of Brooks Media at 15 Fifth Avenue New York, NY, collectively, the (“Business”).
NOW, THEREFORE, for and in consideration of the mutual covenants and benefits derived and to be derived from the Agreement by each Party, and for the other good and valuable consideration, the receipt and sufficiency of which are hereby acknowledged. Seller and Buyer hereby agree as follows:
Agreement to Sell:
Subject to and in accordance with the terms and conditions of this Agreement. Buyer agrees to purchase the Business from Seller, and Seller agrees to sell the business to Buyer. Seller represents and warrants to Buyer that it has (and Buyer will have) good and marketable title to the Business free and clear of liens and encumbrances.
Purchase Price and Method of Payment:
Brooks Media, all stock and investments, and corporations under the Brooks Media name are net worthed at 3.5 billion dollars, along with the ownership of one fluffy cat, Walter Brooks.
Buyer’s price will include a 10:00 a.m. appointment at Brooks Media offices on today, October 15th. Buyer will give Seller fifteen minutes of uninterrupted time to give an explanation to the Buyer. Once the fifteen-minute time period is up, Buyer may sign the contract and claim the title, CEO and President of Brooks Media, free and clear.
I stopped reading, staring down at the words in utter dismay.
He was selling—no—giving me his company? Just like that? Kline Brooks was just handing over his company and fortune for fifteen minutes of my time?
Oh, and he was tossing in Walter to, what, sweeten the deal?
What in the ever-loving kind of shit was this?
My knees buckled and I was thankful my ass was near the edge of my desk. I gripped the mahogany edge and tried to breathe through the intensifying tightness in my chest.
He had really, truly lost it. What did he think this would solve? Did he think I would just fall into his arms because he was worth over three billion dollars? That he could just buy me back with money?
Fuck. Him.
I would not be bought. Never.
He’d messed up. He’d ruined us. Our breakup rested solely on his shoulders, and I was more than ready to throw this stupid, insulting contract back in his face.
In. Person.