Harley Quinn Romance 3

Chapter 3: Rival for Control

The man currently standing in front of Bruce's desk had the polished attire of a high priced lawyer, but the attitude of a hitman for the mob. His stance and tone indicated a complete disregard for anyone besides himself as if they were mere flies he could swat at any time.

Bruce's desk resided in front of a large set of floor to ceiling windows. Even seated behind the ornate, cherry wood desk, Bruce's broad shoulders and square jaw made him an impressive sight. His piercing blue eyes were distinctive even on the camera feed, and Harley lost herself in them for a moment before her gaze started to trace the lines of muscle showing through his chocolate brown suit. Realizing she hadn't been paying attention to the meeting itself, Harley focused as many of her thoughts as possible on what was going on in the office next door, but a few lingered on Bruce.

"Wayne Enterprises has been floundering of late," the man explained with a shark smile. "If Wayne Enterprises isn't up to the task of providing Gotham with the support it so desperately requires, new leadership for this city becomes necessary."

"Going into politics, Mr. Drexel?" Bruce questioned.

"Amusing," Drexel replied without humor in his cold, dark eyes. "But I'm sure your shareholders aren't laughing. Wayne Enterprises has invested heavily in research programs that go nowhere and produce nothing but high expenditures. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of dollars are poured into reconstruction projects, not only in Gotham but globally, repairing the damage super villains and so called heroes leave in their wake. You're leadership is bleeding this company dry."

"The thing about research and development," Bruce explained, his voice calm, betraying nothing, "not everything developed is able to be marketed for a sufficient return to justify its production. As for our reconstruction efforts, those are essential."

"The government can rebuild," Drexel pointed out. "Why do your shareholders have to suffer while their profits go elsewhere?"

"If you've read our last fiscal report, you'd know our shareholders aren't suffering," Bruce countered. "Besides, the governments of three countries have hired us to do repair work."

"You underbid for the contracts," came the expected argument.

"It's part of a strategy," Bruce defended. "It ensures we got the contract, because who else could do a better job? It also generates good will with the locals. Wayne Enterprises has opened factories and branch divisions in countless places we've rebuilt, and the citizens become an extremely loyal workforce devoted to the company that did so much for them when no one else would. Besides all that, there's an even greater reason to do things the way I do."

"And what is that?" Drexel demanded.

"Because it's right," Bruce answered. "I neither need nor require anyone's approval for what I choose to do with my company."

"Your shareholders," Drexel started to say.

"I am the majority shareholder," Bruce interrupted, standing up from his desk. "It's my company and my money. Others benefit from being along for the ride. Business has been unsettled lately, but we're getting everything under control. Recent contracts and deals show the company improving, perhaps even better than before."

"Trends can be so deceiving," Drexel countered as he picked up the briefcase sitting on the carpet next to where he stood. "One day everything looks bright and hopeful; the next day, it's all ashes."

"Exactly who are you representing here?" Bruce questioned. "You weren't very specific."

"I don't intend to be," Drexel answered simply. "My employers will reveal themselves when they're ready. We just thought it would be a courtesy to give you a chance to put your house in order. The days of Wayne Enterprises running Gotham unchallenged are over."

                                                                                         ***

"He's a real jerk," Harley remarked, coming into Bruce's office after his guest departed.

"He's just trying to let me know how important he and his clients are," Bruce explained.

"We should follow him," Harley suggested. "Got a spare cowl stashed around here?"

"In broad daylight?" Bruce questioned. "Not exactly practical. Even with Gotham's thick cloud cover, Batman and Batwoman would be too noticeable, and the Batwing even more so."

"We need to find out where he's going, who he's working for, and why do I even bother?" Harley trailed off as she noticed Bruce fighting back a smile. "You already have something in mind, don't you?"

"Come here," Bruce beckoned to her with a wave of his hand before switching on his computer.

Harley joined him at the desk. Sitting on the arm of his chair, she leaned over on the pretense of adjusting the angle of the monitor, but she observed Bruce carefully out of the corner of her eye. With the top third of her blouse unbuttoned, Bruce couldn't help but notice the view she offered. Although his gaze didn't linger, he did adjust his tie, a habit Harley knew he unconsciously did when trying to maintain his facade of control. Deciding to be merciful, Harley straightened up and pretended she hadn't seen his reaction, but in her mind, she was giggling with delight.

"When I first started here," Bruce explained. "I knew there might be times when business dealings would require a different kind of attention than what a person behind a desk can accomplish, so I needed a way to tag them to find later."

He gestured to the computer screen where the video feed from a camera looked down at the security booth of the parking garage.

"I set it up out of sight, but there's a pressurized tube at the base of the booth, right there." Bruce explained, indicating the location on the monitor. "When activated, it fires a small tracer, magnetizing to the metal rim of the front tire."

"Is it shaped like a little bat?" Harley asked with a grin.

"No," Bruce chuckled. "I couldn't have anything connect Batman and me. The tracers don't use the same design and are even from different manufacturing sources than the ones Batman uses."

A car pulled up to the security booth, and Bruce pressed a key. A soft bleep came from the computer's speakers. Typing quickly, Bruce switched the camera feed on the monitor to an aerial view provided by a high powered Wayne Tech satellite. City streets lit up in yellow, and a red circle blinked into life as it moved along one of them.

"There he is," Bruce announced.

"Now we just follow the little red dot back to wherever he calls home," Harley concluded.

"He might make a few stops along the way, but it will give us a list of places to check rather than the whole city," Bruce amended.

"While we wait for him to get where he's going," Harley suggested, leaning in to kiss his neck.

"None of that," Bruce discouraged, pulling away. "Business before pleasure."

"Fine," Harley relented. She went to get a chair for herself, muttering under her breath, "Sane people can be so boring at times."

Had she been looking, she would've noticed Bruce trying to hide his smile.