Jameson said something tonight that struck home with me.
This is Jameson Miles’ son, he has his nature, of course he’s going to be difficult.
And somehow, that makes me love my baby all the more, suddenly I know it’s all going to be okay.
If there’s anyone that can handle a strong-willed Miles man.
It’s me.
I sit at the kitchen counter and read my magazine.
The kids are playing in the back garden, James is five, Imogen is four, Alexander is two, and I’m pregnant again.
We’re running a damn breeding program over here.
To be fair, the last two pregnancies have been surprises, happy surprises, but surprises just the same.
We live in the country full-time now; the kids are barefoot and fancy free.
Living the life that we always wanted for them.
Simple and full of love.
We will move back to New York full time once the kids are high school age.
The sound of the chopper comes over the mountain and the kids all squeal with excitement and run to the back fence to watch it land.
The chopper lands, the door opens and Jameson steps out. Square jaw, dark hair and the best fitted navy suit in all of the land. Still got it, and then some.
I smirk, my husband is hot.
The kids all rush him and run around his feet, he picks up Alexander and puts him on his hip as they walk back to the house.
Daddy’s home.
THE TAKEOVER EPILOGUE
THE TAKEOVER EPILOGUE
Claire
Monday morning.
Tristan and Fletcher’s first day at Anderson Media and while I’m getting to the office with everybody else at 9 a.m. They left home at their usual 6:30 a.m.
What are they doing here so early?
I get into the elevator on the ground floor and ride it up, my mind is in overdrive.
While I’m more grateful than words could ever express to Tristan for taking Anderson Media on, it isn’t going to make the transition any easier.
He runs a tight ship, a super yacht with all the bells and whistles and a high-powered engine room.
I’ve been floating along on a raft made of twigs and string.
Two very different business models with two very different outcomes. I know we have to adapt; I know things have to change.
He’s assured me that he is going to ensure a smooth transition and that there will be no casualties, which is one thing, I guess.
The staff don’t know he’s starting today, he thought it was best that he be the person to break it to them. But reading between the lines I think he doesn’t want me to have to deal with anything stressful now that I’m pregnant.
His only goal now is to protect me and the boys, this company is for them and god help anyone who stands in his way.
The elevator doors open and I look around.
“Good morning, Ms. Anderson,” Tristan’s sexy voice purrs.
I look over to see him standing to the side looking like god’s gift to women. Perfectly fitted navy suit, crisp white shirt, and gray tie. His dark hair is messed up to just-fucked perfection. He has his hands in his pockets and is leaning his behind on a desk.
“Good morning, Tristan.”
He smirks and looks at his watch. “Eight fifty-two,” he says to Fletcher who is standing beside him.
Fletcher scribbles something onto the pad he is holding.
Huh.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
Tristan smiles. “Go to your office, darling, and please remember that I love you.”
I frown, and the elevator doors open again, a girl steps out and Tristan stands and shakes her hand. “Good morning, Tristan Miles.”
The girl looks up in awe at the god. “Hello, Mr. Miles.”
“What is your name?” he asks.
“Melanie Right.”
“Good morning, Melanie, this is Fletcher Anderson,” he introduces him.
Fletcher shakes her hand. “How do you do?”
Melanie smiles and then scurries to her desk; Tristan looks over to Fletcher and glances at his watch. “Melanie Right, eight fifty-six.”
My eyes widen, he’s making a note of what time everyone gets here.
What the fuck?
“I need coffee.” I march to my office and close the door behind me. “Fuck.”
It’s fine, it’s fine…
My door busts open and Marley charges in. “Oh my fuck, what is going on out there?”
“What?” I screw up my face. “Do I even want to know?”
“Evan just got sprayed for being seven minutes late.”
“Oh crap.”
“And Marlene just got sent home because she was dressed inappropriately for the office.”
My eyes widen. “What was she wearing?”
“A black bra underneath a see-through blouse.”
I put my hands over my face.
“To be fair, she does dress like a total ho every day,” Marley replies. “She makes me want to vomit in my own mouth most of the time.”
The door opens, and Fletcher comes into view. “Marley, Tristan is looking for you.”
“Oh crap.” Marley screws up her face. “Help.” She marches out the door and into the firing line. I peer out the corner of the blinds and spy on the office goings-on.
Over the next five hours I watch on as Tristan and Fletcher make their way around to everyone’s desk, they chat and talk and have a way that can only be described as unapologetic.
They know what they want and they know how to get it.
Their people skills are so mastered and so perfected that they have everyone eating out of the palm of their hand.
I watch Fletcher, dressed in a three-thousand-dollar suit, exuding confidence as he chats and takes notes on everyone. He’s laughing and asking questions and oozing a certain X factor that can only be described as Miles-like.
It’s become abundantly clear to me that every day he spends working with Tristan, he becomes a little less Anderson and a little more Miles.
He’s turning into the man he was always meant to be.
A confident, knowledgeable, and hardworking man, and I have never been prouder.
We have a meeting scheduled at 3 p.m. this afternoon for all staff, and I have no idea what to expect.
But I’m trying to trust the process.
Three p.m., and I sit in the front row of the auditorium with Marley.
Tristan has hired a hall for the staff meeting this afternoon, he wanted everyone in the same room.
This is new territory; we have never done anything like this before.
Tristan and Fletcher are sitting on the stage where a microphone and podium are set up as they wait for all of the staff to pile in.
Eventually Tristan stands and goes to the podium. “Good afternoon, everyone,” he says in his sexy deep voice. “Thank you for coming.” He gives a smile to the audience as everyone hangs on his every word.
I’m taken back to that conference he spoke at in ?pernay and how much I despised him from my seat in the audience. Never in a million years did I imagine this life I live now would ever come to fruition.
“It’s been great to meet all of you today.” He turns back and gestures to Fletcher. “Fletcher and I wanted to have this meeting to explain the new adventure that Anderson Media is about to undertake.”
The crowd falls silent.
“Firstly, you may all be asking what the fuck is Tristan Miles doing here?” He gives a playful wink and everyone chuckles. “With Claire Anderson’s permission I’m going to be as straight with you as I possibly can.”