Raw Talent |9| The Beautiful Girl Is Talking
Read Chapter Eight here or read Raw Talent from the start here
CHAPTER NINE
Jackman Duvall was tersely rustling papers when the phone rang. He had to be prepared for his conference call with Tokyo. But were they prepared for him?
His secretary, Deborah, informed him that his three o’ clock was here.
And what a three o’ clock she was.
Small, yet perfectly formed she was like an hourglass made out of fabergé eggs. Her hair was the dark, shiny auburn that counts as red-head but never as ginger. He wondered if it were natural. It probably was. Everything about this creature seemed effortlessly perfect. Not like a Deborah at all.
“Fox Maison” she said and shook his well-manicured hand with her own.
“Jackman…”
“DuVall, I know. I have heard of you.” they both laughed. Of course she had. Everyone always knew the name of the most potent businessman in their borough. And that name was always Jackman DuVall.
“So, Fox Maison, what can I do for you in the next fifteen minutes?” he purred, like a lion remembering a particularly exquisite gazelle.
“Well, Jackman. Can I call you Jackman?”
He nodded, taken aback at her chutzpah. Nobody ever called him Jackman. Not even his mother, Deborah DuVall. He shook himself away from the memories of a childhood best forgotten. The beautiful girl is talking, Jackman DuVall, he thought. And then corrected himself. Not, not a girl. Never a girl. Fox Maison was every inch a woman. And not one of those racist women like you sometimes hear about. A proper beautiful inclusive woman, equally respectful of all cultures and peoples, no matter what that chauffeur said one time.
“I’ve prepared a ten minute iPad presentation on why you need to invest in my company. You can watch it, or interact with it on your comfort level. When you’re finished, then you can ask me…anything you want to know.” She sat back in her chair, a confident young business maven.
What I want to know thought Jackman DuVall is how you would look lying in my very expensive bed after I had satisfied you with a merger that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with pleasure upon pleasure.
But asking her that would have been sexual harassment, which was not okay in the workplace, even when you are an alpha male who is mostly made of rocks.
So he swiped around on the iPad, nodding thoughtfully. It seemed a solid investment opportunity. It wouldn’t make him billions. But maybe it would make him care again. In a way he’d thought impossible.
When Tokyo called, Jackman DuVall told them to phone again tomorrow.
He had a Fox to catch.
