Alpha Billionaire Series

CHARLIE When I hear the news that Thomas left everything to his estranged children, it takes a moment to register. It's not even that, though. What throws me is the fact that I am merely to serve as Interim President for three months. That's it. No provision to safeguard my job? It's a devastating blow and I'm shaking after I speak to Mark Jenner. Basically, the board handed me the position I've worked so hard to achieve and now they're going to take it away after three lousy months. Of course, that's after I waste my time explaining to Beckett's kids how TB Tech runs, the day-to-day operations, clients, employees, overall structure and so much more. Then I can hand the reins over. It's clear they're using me to make sure it's a smooth transition. And afterwards? I'm willing to bet my last dollar that they'll toss my a*s out the moment they can. Fuck that. Devastation morphs into anger and the more I think about it, the more my blood boils. Everything I've worked so hard for just went up in a puff of smoke. Betrayal doesn't even begin to cover how I'm feeling about Thomas right now. Apparently, my cheerleader and my mentor didn't believe in me quite as much as I thought. Or he knew that Nash and I would never be able to run this company together without killing each other so he chose his son over me. The son he never got along with and who walked out on him while I stayed solid and strong by his side for three years. I can't pretend it doesn't sting because it does. it stings like hell. TB Tech is my life and I've devoted practically every waking hour to the damn place since I started here. And this is how Thomas repays me? He knew that Nash and I never saw eye to eye. We couldn't stand each other so why would he do this to me? The first chance he gets, Nash is going to can me, and Thomas must've known that. No matter how hard I try, I can't make sense of the situation. Mark informs me that the Beckett clan will arrive Monday morning at I0:00 a.m. to tour their new company and meet with the board and me. I don't think I've ever dreaded anything so much in my life. But, before that, there's the funeral. Of course, I plan to attend, but I have no desire to see Nash fucking Beckett again. There's not much I can do, though, and when Saturday arrives, I dress in a black pantsuit and long dark coat. It's been raining on and off all day and it's a perfect match for my somber mood. Thomas Beckett may have been a lot of things and people definitely have their varied opinions about him, but he took me under his wing, and I will always appreciate that. Even though it feels like he just screwed me. The family decided to have a small graveside service and nothing more. 'm nervous the entire way to the cemetery and when I get there, I park my car behind a Tesla and get out. My umbrella pops up and I angle it so I can take a look at who is there without them really seeing me. Visit J o b n i b.com to read the complete chapters for free. If you are not reading this novel on Job ni b .c o m, some sentences are incomplete. There aren't more than I5 people up at the gravesite and my gaze scans over them. I recognize a few TB Tech board members, including Mark Jenner, and then my gaze pauses on a tall, dark-haired man closest to the casket. The moment I recognize Nash, my heart thumps harder and it's as though my body is preparing to fight with him. I'm on edge, my hands squeeze into fists and my lips press together so I don't say anything rude. I move over and stand beside Mark, hoping to avoid Nash completely. But, of course, he looks up and our gazes collide. I'd forgotten just how bright his cobalt blue eyes are and my thumping heart skips a beat. Skips a beat? No, that can't be right. But my pulse definitely speeds up and I attribute that to the negative way he has always affected me. His expression is unreadable, and I can't tell if he's angry or sad or what. Even though it's his father's funeral and he should be upset, I know they hadn't spoken for the last two years. I pull my gaze away from his magnetic blue stare and look at who I assume are his siblings. From what I know, they were all estranged. But maybe that's changed since they're all standing together and putting on a united front. I really have no idea what's going on with them. Right beside Nash is a thinner, leaner version of him with hazel eyes. Tanner maybe? I'm guessing. Obviously, the young woman would be their only sister, Sierra, and beside her is Crew, her twin. The twins have dark hair and blue eyes, but not quite as bright as Nash's shade. And then there's a man standing off to the edge more and 'm assuming that it's Sawyer. I never heard much about him other than an occasional snort from Thomas about Sawyer being an ungrateful ass who ran off and joined the military out of defiance. Clearly, the black sheep of the group. I do my best to avoid making eye contact with any of them, especially Nash, and thankfully the ceremony is short and sweet. After it's over, all I want to do is run back down to my car, but that would be rude. I know I should reach out to his children and offer my condolences. Even if they don't care that their father died. Taking a deep breath, I tip my umbrella back and walk over. They all look at me and not one tear has been shed between the four of them. I take a deep breath before saying, “I'm sorry for your loss!” “Thank you,” the one that I think is Tanner says. The others nod and when I finally look up at Nash, his face is so unreadable that I have no idea what to think. It's completely devoid of expression, as though it's etched in stone. I clear my throat, then turn and force myself to walk away, heading back down toward my car. As I shut my umbrella and open my car door, I look back up on the hill where Thomas’ four kids still stand, talking amongst themselves, and realize that Nash is staring at me. It's an odd sensation to feel his intense blue gaze on me and I swallow hard and slip into the driver's seat. On the ride home, my thoughts keep returning to the man I remember and what a bastard he was. I don't look forward to dealing with Nash again and I know the insufferable man is going to make my life a living hell I've never met anyone who gets under my skin quite like he does. We're never on the same page and he loves to pus me until my claws come out. Nothing drives me crazier than that arrogant smirk and taunting voice of his. That's not what I saw today, though. Hell, I'm not sure who I saw earlier, but I'm going to chalk up his subdued behavior to the fact that his father just died. Besides, we have nothing to fight about yet. Just give us a minute, I think. Because my claws are itching to come out. When Nash worked at TB Tech, I think his favorite pastime was annoying me on every level. And he did it so very wel It wasn't just us going head-to-head on business stuff, either. It was all the little shit, too, that added up fast. He loved leaving his coffee mugs laying everywhere and there was always a quarter of cold brew left in them; he would go to the gym on his lunch hour and always return late; he would leave leftover food in the kitchen fridge and never throw it out. Ugh. I force myself to take several deep breaths as an image of Nash pops into my mind. Okay, so maybe he wasn't completely unfortunate looking, and he always was the epitome of classy. The man could wear a suit like no one els and he always looked put-together and strait-laced. I don't think I've ever seen him without a tie. Always buttoned- up and wearing a designer jacket, he looked like the consummate downtown New York businessman. Successfulbusinessman. Despite his annoying habits and penchant to challenge me on everything, he was smart. Toc smart and that's what scares me. Standing on my balcony, barely holding back the frustrated tears, I look out over my city. Everything is about to coms crashing down on me. The thing that pisses me off the most is Nash left TB Tech. He basically threw a tantrum like a little boy and stormed out when he didn't get his way. That shows how much he cared for the company. He frreig didn't. And, here I am, working my ass off to make sure it's a success. My head drops between my shoulders, and I feel like such a fool. Was I taken advantage of? Did Thomas even care? Suddenly, I don't know what to do. I suppose if you look at the big picture, I have options. I could pull a Nash and never return to the office. Goodbye, good luck and good riddance. But that would make me no better than him and I pride myself on having a good work ethic and not giving in when the going gets tough. There's always the possibility of finding another job. The problem is it takes so damn long to convince all the testosterone in the office that I'm just as competent and good, if not better, than they are when it comes to bagging clients and increasing income. Obviously, I wouldn't have to start at the bottom in my actual job position but I woulc when it comes to gaining respect and trust. I've been groomed to be President of a major tech company and I've never been more ready to accept the responsibility. Unfortunately, I can see it disappearing before I'm ever even given the chance to fully prove myself. Okay, maybe Nash isn't as bad as you remember, try to convince myself. Thinking back over our interactions, the onl things I can recall are bad. The fighting, constantly butting heads on everything from ways to approach a potential client to what kind of snacks and beverages we wanted stocked in the kitchen. He always liked those damn disgusting dry power bars, and I liked the granola bars dipped in chocolate. And I still don't look at Gatorade the same. He drank that crap like it was going out of style while I preferred my Diet Coke. No doubt about it. Nash Beckett and I are like night and day. There is no possibility that we will be able to work together and not wind up killing each other. It's unfortunate, too, because if I take a step back and ignore all of the personal bullshit between us, I can almost admit that he’s good at his job. He just has a completely different style and approach than me and that's why we don't mesh. As I watch my life slowly getting flushed down the toilet, my phone rings. I step back inside my apartment, pulling the balcony doors shut, and drop down on the couch. Grabbing my phone off the coffee table, I'm about to answer it when I freeze, eyes glued to the screen. “Nash-hole” shows up on the caller ID. I haven't seen that pop up in two years and maybe I wasn't in the best of moods when I programmed it in there like that. Still, I have no intention of answering his call. I'm not prepared to deal with him right now. 'd rather go up against a massive earthquake or giant tarantula from outer space set on destroying all of mankind. Anything but Nash fucking Beckett. After several rings, he gets dropped in voicemail. I wait to see if he leaves a message and just when I think he didn't, an alert beeps. Shit.I go straight into my voicemails and there it is: One new voicemail from Nash-hole. Unable to resist, I hit play and lift the phone up to my ear. I have no idea what to expect. “Hi, Charlie that deep voice from my past says. The one I never wanted to hear again. “I figured I'd call and try to talk to you before the big meeting on Monday. I know it's not going to be pleasant but I'm hoping we can act like civilized adults... I grind my jaw, fingers clenching hard around my phone, and my eyes narrow into slits. “I'm assuming this is as big of a surprise for you as it is for me. And I know neither of us is happy about working with each other again. Despite our personal issues, I'm hoping we can try to get through the transition in a professional manner and without any drama. We'll get enough of that from my siblings,” he adds in a low voice. “Anyway, can't say I'm surprised you didn't pick up.” There's a brief hesitation, like he’s going to say something more but instead he signs off. “Okay, see you Monday. Leave the claws at home, will “ya?" Click. If I thought my blood was boiling earlier, now it is molten lava flowing through my veins. He thinks I'm not going to be professional? Leave the claws at home? How the fuck is a comment like that professional? This is exactly what I hate- the double standards. Nash can say whatever the hell he wants and insult me and that's just fine. But if say one word, he doesn't like then I'm being dramatic. Grrr. He just reminded me why I can't stand him. Oh, God Almighty, grant me the patience to deal with him on Monday.And his siblings who he just warned me about are going to be drama. As if Nash and I don't create enough drama on our own. Suddenly I don't feel nauseous anymore. I am so damn angry that my vision blurs. Who does he think he is? He left TB Tech in a juvenile fit and now he should be coming back with his tail between his legs. When he stands in front of me and the board, he's the one who should feel like an idiot. Not me. “I'm hoping we can try to get through the transition in a professional manner and without any drama.” “Then don't bring any drama, Nash!” I yell to the empty room. But he's already created it with that phone call. 'm on the defense and anticipating World War III when Monday morning rolls around. Suddenly I remember something my mom used to say: “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar” I take a deep breath and think about it. If I go into the office all wound up and ready to fight, it won't end well. But f I'm calm and collected then maybe we have half a chance at making this work. Leaving TB Tech was never in my plans. I saw myself working there until I retired. I love the company that much. Now I'm so scared Nash and the rest of the Beckett brood are going to toss me out the door the first chance they get. Maybe if I play nice that won't happen. Yeah, right. I may as well pack my desk up and face the music. Because it's not going to be pretty or in my favor no matter how sweet I am. But maybe I'll be able to find an ally with one of them. I distinctly remember Nash calling Tanner soft before so he may be the one to bond with. Something to keep in mind, anyway. When Monday morning arrives, I get up earlier than usual and take my time getting ready. I need to look like a consummate professional and make an extremely good impression when I face the board today. Even if the Becketts want me gone, there's a chance they could be overruled by the partners. I hadn't even thought of that since I'd been 50 busy panicking most of the weekend. And then I talked to Mark. He's the one board member who has always shown me his full support and I can talk to him openly with my concerns more than anyone else. “How're you doing, Charlie-girl?" he asks. “Oh, you know,” I say. “Kind of feels like the moment before the ax drops on the back of my neck.” “Monday will definitely be interesting. That's for sure. Except for Nash, those kids never wanted anything to do with their father or his business.’ “I have a feeling that's about to change.” “Maybe,” Mark says carefully. “Nash is the one who's going to want to step right in and take over. But, with the provision, he can't” “Provision?” My ears perk up. “You didn't know?” “Know what?” I demand.

x Alph “Thomas stated in his will that though the Beckett clan owns TB Tech, you will remain President for tl and-" “Help smooth the transition. As Interim President. Yeah, I know that part and it's a little insulting because Nash is going to get rid of me the moment the clock strikes midnight three months from the day I take over.” “The provision provides that you will be able to return to your previous position as VP. We're all assuming he intends to step up as CEO and President, but he can't just fire you for no reason.” “In case you've forgotten, we don't work well together! I remind him. “We'll see” he murmurs. “In the meantime, know that I have your back. You're a vital asset and everyone knows it" “I appreciate it, Mark” Atleast I can take comfort in the fact that I have three whole months to search for a new job. Unfortunately, I don't want to leave TB Tech. The final decision, though, will be out of my hands. Problem is it will be in the hands of a man who despises me. Lovely. This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.