K. R. Treadway
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Opposites Distract 5: Have a Few Laughs
🕑 Added 2024-11-24 16:00:08 +0000 UTC
~ Liv ~
Conrad Griffon was almost larger than life. He stood over six feet, and his fitted tux showcased a physique usually reserved for action stars. Liv had no idea how he found the time to run his financial empire and look like…that. Maybe his workstation was a weight bench.
He’d ushered them into a private dining room with decor perfectly poised between ostentatious and tasteful. If the elaborate crown molding ever came loose, someone would be fatally crushed. Their boss was already seated and waiting. Silverware—including real silver spoons—had been set at four places along one half of a massive round table, but Hartnell was ignoring his to pick at the most opulent charcuterie board she had ever seen.
“You two are quite early.” Hartnell's tone was quizzical, but Liv detected the approval lurking in it.
“Please make yourselves comfortable,” Griffon said. He pulled out a chair for Liv.
She set her clutch onto the table and slid into her seat. “Thank you, Mr. Griffon.”
“Call me Conrad.” His smile held enough wattage to power the hotel they were in. She couldn’t help but respond in kind.
“No flirting with my staff, Griffon.” Despite Hartnell’s desire to gain a high profile client, he was clearly unfazed by the aura of power coming off the billionaire. He popped a small cube of exotic cheese into his mouth.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Griffon—Conrad—cranked his smile higher and stared deep into her eyes. They were dark brown and practically sparking. “You’ll know when I’m flirting.” The words were directed at Hartnell but he kept his eyes on Liv.
The man’s charisma was nearly overpowering. Conrad was charming, considerate, and had enough money to purchase a small planet. Physically, he was an almost perfect example of Liv’s type.
So why the hell was her awareness laser-focused on the lean physique of the man in her peripheral vision?
When Conrad turned away to retrieve a tablet, she glanced at Edgar. He wrenched his chair out with savage precision and took his seat on the other side of Hartnell, elbows decisively landing on the 400 thread count tablecloth. He rested his chin on clasped fists. An outside observer would likely see his grave expression as hyper-focused, but she knew otherwise. He’s furious, she thought, the awareness of it turning her breathing slightly shallow.
He had already stolen her breath earlier, in the bar. She should have guessed a man who dressed meticulously in a casual office would own a killer suit. Edgar's graphite gray jacket and slacks perfectly complemented his frame. Instead of a tie, he’d left his white shirt open at the collar to reveal a hint of chest. The moment Liv saw him she'd wished he’d left a second button undone, and the realization had shocked her back to sanity. She wasn’t into guys like Edgar. He was a…sleek hunting cat, completely different from the leonine build of Griffon.
Oh Liv, she mentally chided, sexy cat metaphors? That stupid little water in the bar must have been spiked. Edgar Sharp is not my type, she reminded herself sternly. She didn’t go for aristocratic-looking men with perfect jaw lines and stylish ash-brown hair and angry eyes that were a much nicer shade of brown than Conrad’s.
She blinked. Oh God. Was Edgar’s anger making him…more attractive?
You’re gorgeous when you’re angry.
His galling words returned to mock her. She'd been so pissed at the time, but now she felt like a hypocrite. When Conrad came back and assumed the posture of a practiced speaker, Liv was grateful she had an excuse to look away.
“First, don’t think the informal nature of this meeting means I'm treating it lightly. It was Richard’s idea.” The billionaire nodded at their boss.
“You have a reputation as an active problem solver,” Hartnell replied. “Always planning and hiring experts. Acting transparently. Very laudable. But my gut tells me you’re being closely watched in regards to this particular problem.” He took a sip of wine. “So we must appear casual. Anyone monitoring your movements will think you're hosting a friendly late-night dinner, because Conrad Griffon would never conduct a briefing in this way. Accurate?”
Conrad leaned his hip against the table and folded his arms tight. He nodded, but his strained expression made it clear he wasn't happy about the arrangement.
“My team will make sure these two get all the briefing material they require,” Hartnell continued. “For now, simply describe the problem.”
“Fine.” Conrad pursed his lips, choosing his words. “Someone is trying to destroy one of my best companies.” His tone made it clear he was taking it personally, not as a businessman protecting an investment.
Edgar frowned and tilted his head. “Phase Energy?”
For the first time that evening, Conrad’s supremely confident exterior cracked, revealing genuine surprise. He turned to Richard. “You told them?” Richard shook his head, a characteristic gleam of amusement in his eyes.
“You like green energy companies,” Edgar explained. “Your portfolio is diverse, but you’re the most hands-on with those. Add in your love of start-ups, and Phase Energy is the logical choice.”
His words unlocked something in Liv’s memory. “That’s right. You spent a lot of time last month posting about renewable power. Particularly…harnessing the tides.” The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Phase Energy. As in lunar phases?”
Conrad looked impressed and a touch miffed. Liv suspected he didn't like to reveal when he was impressed. “You’re…both correct,” he said at last. “Phase Energy is under threat, and the focus of the company is tidal power research.”
“I don’t know much about tidal power,” Edgar admitted. “Can you explain how it works?”
“Finding yourself at sea, my boy?” Hartnell quipped, clearly amused by his word play.
Suppressing an eye roll—she was used to their boss’s sense of humor—Liv once again found her attention drawn to Edgar. She would have assumed he was a classic know-it-all, not comfortable asking for help. Wrong again.
“Just like it sounds,” Conrad was saying, “tidal power is all about using the movement of water between low and high tide to generate electricity. There are lots of ways to do it, but the most common involves turbines, either anchored on the seabed or tethered in the water above it.”
“Like a wind farm,” Liv said.
That earned her another dazzling grin. Liv wondered how much electricity could be generated from that smile—though it still wasn’t lighting her up.
“Exactly,” Conrad said. “But even more reliable. The wind is replaced by predictable ocean currents. And since water is much denser, it’s theoretically more efficient.”
“Theoretically?” Edgar asked.
“The technology’s in its infancy. Several companies are researching ways to make it more cost-effective, particularly in the States, where we don’t have as many sites where the tidal change is extreme. The existing turbine designs just aren't good enough.” Pause. “Or they weren't.”
Edgar and Liv exchanged a glance—not easy with Hartnell rolling up a slice of Virginia ham between them.
“Phase Energy’s had a breakthrough,” Hartnell announced, then took a bite.
“Our research team is about to complete work on a new turbine. Once the design phase is done, the company will start manufacturing an entire line based on it. We’re calling it ‘Hydro Cyclic.’ ” Conrad breathed the name like an invocation. Clearly their client was a true believer.
“You seem confident in its success,” Liv said politely.
“It uses new anti-corrosion alloys to reduce replacement costs, but the real stars are the fan blades. They were designed using very unconventional math.” Conrad paused dramatically before his next line, like he’d delivered some version of this talk at dozens of presentations. “We estimate it will improve power generation more than twenty percent over the nearest competitor.”
“A gain that big…” Edgar mused. “It would transform the industry.” He didn't add that it would also create massive disruption and sink vulnerable companies; everyone in the room grasped that simple truth.
“Who’s your nearest competitor?” Liv asked.
Conrad tapped his chin. “Technically it's one of the Korean companies, but they're government-backed. Doubtful they have anything to do with our…problems. As for the rest, there are a lot of innovators in this space clamoring for contracts, firms who would be thrilled to watch us fail. But we do have a prime suspect.”
“Start with the webpage,” Hartnell suggested.
With a sudden stiffness, Conrad unfolded his arms and spread them along the table edge on either side. His pose was casual, but the subject had made his limbs taut with tension.
“In less than three weeks,” he began, “Phase Energy will be holding a major investors meeting. Our project lead for the Hydro Cyclic turbine, Fred Myer, was prepping for the presentation with some online research. By sheer chance he came across a partially completed webpage that had been indexed by whatever search engine he was using.” Conrad tapped the screen of his tablet and handed it to Liv.
The image on the screen showed a website, or more accurately, a bare bones layout of one. The fonts were all plain and a lot of the content was placeholder, but the text at the top was clear enough: BREAKTHROUGH IN TIDAL POWER GENERATION. Beneath that was a cutaway illustration of a turbine whose blades had a strange corkscrew shape. Liv leaned around Hartnell to pass the tablet to Edgar.
“That's Phase Energy’s turbine design?” she hazarded.
“We would have to see the math to be sure, but almost certainly.”
“It couldn’t be a case of parallel development?”
Conrad’s head shake was fierce. “Our design is utterly distinct. Nothing else out there is like it. No other research has even hinted at a similar approach. It would be one hell of a coincidence.”
Edgar glanced up from the screen. “You did say there were a lot of innovators in this space.”
“Put it this way,” Conrad replied, “I’d stake a few billion on this not being a coincidence.” It was hard to deny the absolute certainty in his tone.
Edgar held his gaze for a few seconds, thinking, and then nodded, returning to look at the screen. “I assume your team did a reverse DNS lookup?”
“We did. Before it was taken down, that build was hosted on a server used by Victory Global.”
“They’re a mid-level power conglomerate,” Hartnell supplied. “We’re doing a work-up now.”
“What else do you have?” Liv asked Conrad, remembering Hartnell had said the webpage was only the start.
Conrad paused to give gravity to his next statement. “Two days ago, we nearly lost our main prototype through sabotage.”
Now we’re talking. Liv leaned forward the same moment she heard Edgar hastily set the tablet down.
“Sabotage?” he echoed. His voice was mild, but she heard the eagerness running under it. It was odd feeling even a vague kinship with the man, but she had to admit his enthusiasm matched hers. “What happened?”
“An interior cowling had been deliberately bent to impact the new blade as it was spinning up. It would have wrecked the prototype and cost us millions—possibly more if word spread to our investors. Worse, it would have endangered the lives of multiple workers. The only reason we caught it was because we’d recently updated the inspection protocol.”
Liv blew out a breath. She couldn’t help it. “This is bad,” she said. “Your physical and intellectual property are under parallel attack.”
“It sounds like your company’s been completely infiltrated.” Edgar tone was equally grim. He rubbed a finger across his forehead, then turned to Hartnell with a speculative look.
Liv was watching him too. Richard Hartnell was more than just the name on the door, he was the strategic genius who decided the opening moves on every big case. After that, it would be up to her and Edgar to win the game.
Hartnell wiped his mouth and regarded Conrad with a hard expression. “We’re coming in late, there’s no question of that. And you know I wouldn't guarantee success even if we had more time. But these two are your best chance, Conrad, and that is a guarantee.”
The billionaire didn't reply, but he looked at both of them, his eyes flitting between her and Edgar. Liv met his gaze evenly. As fake as she sometimes felt in these affluent settings, there was nothing false about her confidence when it came to her work.
“With your approval,” Hartnell continued, “we’ll put both of them on the inside immediately. Undercover. Mr. Sharp as a lab tech with the design team, and Ms. Doyle as…” He considered it. “…an admin for a fictitious VP.” He turned to Edgar. “Your priority would be finding the data leak.”
Liv saw Edgar's expression cloud for an instant, almost too quick to be noticed. But then he nodded. “I’ll get it done.”
Hartnell turned to Liv. “And you would have the run of the facility. Perfect for hunting down our saboteur and preventing further mischief.”
“Yes, sir.” She wasn’t exactly thrilled with her role either, but she would see how things played out before second-guessing her boss.
Conrad was silent a moment longer. Then, with the confidence of a man who was decisive by nature, he nodded. “You have my approval. Send me the contracts and let me know what you need.”
Hartnell pushed away from the table and stood up. “We’ll find the gaps in your armor, Conrad. And if it's possible this late in the game, we’ll weld them shut.” He placed his hands behind his back and regarded their new client. “I’ll have a list for you by midnight. You two”—he swept them with a low-powered Gorgon stare—“get some rest and be prepared for a briefing at five a.m.” He started to move and then turned back to point. “Oh, and eat something from this tray.”
“The tray?” Edgar said.
“You don't want to sample a two-thousand-dollar charcuterie board?”
Two thousand dollars for a single tray?
Liv quickly reached out and snatched a cube of cheese. Her eyes caught Edgar’s and she winked. “Eat what the rich are eating,” she murmured, and put it in her mouth. The smokey taste spread across her tongue until she felt herself slumping into her chair. “Oh my God…what is this?”
“Gouda,” said Hartnell.
“Gouda doesn’t taste like this.”
“It does if you spend an unseemly amount on it.” Conrad’s amusement had almost managed to chase off his anger.
Liv snatched another cube of miracle cheese and popped it in her mouth. She started wondering how much of the plate she could fit in her clutch. A quiet moan issued from deep in her throat.
Edgar’s eyes snapped to hers, their rich color shadowed by an intense emotion…and then a reluctant grin spread across his face. “Okay, I’ll try the ham.”
