The Amendment Read online Melanie Moreland (The Contract #2)

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Contract Series by Melanie Moreland
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
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“Good.”

He glanced around my office, his lips pursed. “Still, I think this office needs a younger vibe to it. I’m going to add my own stamp here.”

He walked out.

“I thought I got through to him, and the one thing he had to say was my office needed redecorating.” I ran a hand through my hair, tugging on the cowlick. “I’m not sure how I’m going to get into that thick head of his.”

Katy smiled, tilting her head as she studied me. “You will. He’s young and trying to find his place. You’re a tight team at GG, Richard. Even being related to them, he’s coming in with nothing except his uncle’s backing. He’s going to push back because he knows who you are to Graham. What you are to him. Give him some time. Show him some of the patience you show Gracie.”

I looked toward the end of the table where Gracie was dozing in her highchair. Applesauce clung to her cheek, her hair was wild and curly in ringlets around her face, and her hand still held the spoon she’d been eating from when she’d crashed. Or somewhat eating, since most of it seemed to be on her face and the area around her.

“She’s far cuter,” I mumbled and moved toward her to carry her upstairs and get her ready for bed. “And she doesn’t talk back as much.”

Katy rolled her eyes. “Give her time. That part is coming.” She laid a hand on my arm as I passed. “You can do this, Richard. Lead by example, and Brad will find his place. Be as patient as you can be.”

I dropped a kiss to her head and settled Gracie into my chest. She rubbed her cheek on my shirt, smearing applesauce on the white cloth. I sighed, knowing I should have changed before sitting down to dinner, but I didn’t have it in me to care much. A soiled shirt was nothing compared to the feeling of having Gracie snuggled into me.

I decided Katy was right. I needed to take the patience I had at home and try a little harder with Brad. Once he settled in and I could help guide and harness his creative side, I was certain he would be a good fit at The Gavin Group.

Patience. It was a lesson it took me a while to learn, but I finally grasped it.

I could do this.

I shut my office door with too much force and whirled around, furious. Brad shifted on his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets since his phone wasn’t within reach. I had thrown it against the wall in frustration.

So much for patience.

“If you ever do that again, I don’t care who the hell your uncle is, you are out of here.”

“I was trying to make a point,” he mumbled.

I slammed my hands on my desk. “By interrupting and speaking over a potential client and telling him he was wrong? You never talk down to a client—ever!”

“But he was wrong. His ideas were crap!”

“That is our job!” I roared. “Taking his crap ideas and making them better! Letting him think he has something to do with the plan—keeping him involved and engaged. You fucking talked over him and made him angry. We won’t even get a second shot at the campaign.” I sat down, my chair rolling back into the wall. “Your attitude has undoubtedly cost us that chance.”

I had left the boardroom for five minutes to grab something from my office to show the client who was having difficulties grasping a visual concept. I knew I had to give him a tactile image, and I had the exact picture on my desk. When I hurried back to the boardroom, I heard the raised voices and Brad overtalking the client and telling him how he was wrong and didn’t know what he was talking about. The next line out of his mouth was the nail in the coffin.

“Leave the marketing to us. We know your product better than you do.”

Big mistake. The client was furious. I did as much damage control as possible, but Brad had insulted the client and I wasn’t sure if even Graham’s influence could undo the destruction. The client had walked out in a huff, and I had lost it.

In the three weeks Brad had been at The Gavin Group, we had locked heads on many occasions. He thought me inflexible, arrogant, and opinionated. I found him cocky, fast to shoot off his mouth, and unwilling to listen. Yet underneath all the blustering and boasting, he was quite brilliant, which was what saved his ass. Still, I wasn’t sure if I could stop myself from throttling Brad before Graham arrived back in the office from his meeting.

“Maybe his business wasn’t worth us going after,” he snipped.

My anger picked up again. “It was a five-million-dollar campaign.”



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