The Kid, the Boss, and the Incorrigible Nanny

Part Twenty-Five

Adrian chewed on the inside of his lip. He wondered if the others could see his nerves, how they bounced in his chest. 

Perhaps the breakfast setting for this meeting had been too casual. He had chosen to take a secondary role in the discussions, providing answers while trying not to come across as too eager.

If I was eager, Peter seems completely nonchalant, he thought. 

Jared Clayborn, a portly man in his fifties, had shaken his hand with a wide smile. He had sat down at the table with an "I'm glad we found the time to meet," and had listened intently as Adrian spoke about the trajectory the company was heading. He had nodded, seeming enthused when John shared the financial highlights of the last two quarters. 

Now, those seated at the table had cleared their plates. Requests for coffee had stalled, and Clayborn had begun to glance at his watch.

Adrian regretted his decision not to push for a meeting in a room where he could have given a full presentation. Jared Clayborn had the financial power to be influential for them. Securing his support could work miracles in winning over the board. 

But the man in question had started to appear disengaged. 

Finally, Clayborn stood. His team quickly followed suit. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, gentlemen." He turned toward Michele. "Miss Carver. Always a pleasure."

A pit opened up in Adrian's stomach, fully distracting him from hearing Michele's response. He stood. "Of course. It's been a pleasure."

 Peter rose, offering his hand. "We hope we haven't interrupted your schedule. I'm sure you have many contacts to meet with this morning."

Was it just Adrian, or did Peter have a condescending note in his voice? He tried to ignore the inkling. 

Clayborn nodded, his gaze not quite meeting their eyes. "Of course."

"I think that went very well," Peter slapped a hand on his back once Clayborn's team was completely out of earshot. 

John rubbed his chin. "I'm not so sure. He didn't say anything definitive."

Peter shrugged, pulling his phone from his pocket. He glanced at it. "Not to worry, young man. These things take time. He has my number."

Adrian knew his friend was fighting to contain his reaction to the pet name. 

"Certainly," Michele offered.

Peter rubbed his chin. "I will see the three of you again this afternoon. I'll keep you informed if there are any updates."

"What was that?" John asked, as soon as Peter was out of the room.

Adrian sank to his seat. "I don't know. The train went off the tracks somewhere."

"He showed such interest before," Michele mused. She smoothed the already pristine napkin on her plate. "Is it possible you could have misread him?"

John shook his head. "Absolutely not. He asked for this meeting the second he learned I was with the Lawson group."

"It doesn't matter." Adrian tried to keep his voice calm. "Like Peter said, we've made a point of contact. We laid the groundwork."

John took a drink from his coffee mug and set it back on the table, almost too forcefully. "It would have gone better if you had taken the lead."

"John-" Adrian started.

"No. It's true." John leaned over the table, his head hanging low.

Adrian wasn't used to seeing him like this. He wasn't angry, he was... agitated?