“Everything okay?” Paul asked her.
“Ben just broke his arm. I’m going home.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll walk you out.” There was something he wanted to tell her, but he hadn’t had time. It was awkward telling her in the elevator, but he had no other choice. Fortunately, they were alone.
“I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but I’ve had some insider information from someone I know in Mike Weston’s office, the big venture capitalist and investor. He was in the store recently and he thought it was fantastic.”
“And he wants a VIP discount?” She looked stressed. “We don’t give them,” she reminded him. “All our customers are VIPs.” Hermès didn’t give them either.
“No, he’s interested in talking to us about some investment money. He’s exactly what we need, Spencer. Will you please meet with him and just listen to him?”
“No. He’ll take half our business and ruin everything. I won’t meet with him. I don’t want investors.” Her voice was sharper than she intended it to be, but she was worried about Ben’s broken arm. “I don’t want investors. Just tell him no!” She raced across the main floor then, hailed a cab outside, and headed home to the small townhouse in Chelsea that she shared with her boys. Francine texted her while she was in the cab that they were on their way home. Spencer would get there first, but it had been a hell of a day, and she wanted to focus on Ben, and not the store. She put Mike Weston right out of her mind and forgot about him.
Mike was talking to Renee in his office, as Spencer settled Ben into his bed and told him what a brave boy he was. He had already had his twin sign his cast, and he was in better spirits than she was. It had been a trying day, and at times like this, she had no one to lean on. She had texted Bart to tell him about Ben’s arm, but she knew he wouldn’t come. He never did. She sat and stroked Ben’s silky blond hair until he fell asleep. Axel was downstairs with Francine.
“What do you mean she won’t see us?” Mike said to Renee with a look of amazement.
“I put some feelers out through a contact I have who knows the CFO at the store. He’s all in favor of an initial meeting. He thinks it could be a good thing for the store. She doesn’t want investors, and she flatly refused to see us, to even discuss what might be possible. The CFO would like to meet us. But the owner doesn’t even want to hear anything we have to say.” Renee couldn’t say it in terms he’d like any better. Spencer Brooke wasn’t interested. No one had ever refused to see Mike Weston, and he looked annoyed for a minute. Then he laughed.
“She must be a very independent woman if she won’t even meet us. That’s pretty ballsy. I have to hand it to her.” Renee was relieved he was taking it so well. That wasn’t always the case. This was a new experience for him. Most people begged him to meet with them. No one had ever slammed the door in his face, or refused to open it at all. “Keep trying. Maybe we should just meet with her CFO.” But he wanted to talk to Spencer too, and he thought he could convince her. He wasn’t trying to take over her business or buy it outright. He wanted to put money into it, have some participation, and leave her in control.
“The CFO won’t talk to us without her permission, and she said a flat no.”
“Try again,” Mike said stubbornly. He wasn’t going to give up that easily. All it did was challenge him. Her flat refusal only enticed him more. This was a new experience for him.
Renee left his office to call her contact again, but a meeting didn’t sound likely to her.
Ben had just fallen asleep when Bill Kelly called Spencer. He wanted to come by. She felt like she was on a merry-go-round at full speed. Bart hadn’t responded to her text about Ben’s broken arm, and hadn’t called at all to see how he was, and she was upset about that too. He left her to deal with all the hard stuff. Everything rested on her shoulders, the store, the boys, the decisions, the crises, the senator’s wife stealing and how to handle it, the loss of a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise damaged at the warehouse. And now Bill wanted to come by.
“I can’t,” she said, sounding stressed. “The boys are here. It’s a school night, and Ben broke his arm today. He might wake up during the night, and it’ll be awkward if you’re here.”
“I can just come over for a while and bring dinner, if you want.” She was too tired and stressed to eat, and she hated to say it to him, but it was just too much. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, she just wanted to sit on the couch by herself and stare into space. “It sounds like you had a rough day.” She laughed ruefully.