Hostile Takeover

Panelists

Chatelaine Bank continued to be a raw, obnoxious thorn in his side.

It bothered him. His shareholders were nervous, sure, but she didn't have the staying power. Not yet. Soon, though, soon, he knew she would be a major competitor. His only consolation was that U-T Bank was struggling with the new interloper as well.

"I think you need a vacation," Hideyoshi suggested one morning. "You're stressing a lot about this. I'm certain it'll go away soon."

"I doubt it. It would have already. I think we'll be seeing that... that Princess a little more." Nobunaga sipped his Italian coffee. "But the Innovator's Conference is coming up soon, and that will be vacation enough."

Out of all the meetings he attended, that one was at least a little exciting. Every year, banking executives and business professionals descended on a coastal city, reserving an entire hotel to themselves and engaging in lectures, panel discussions, and networking. He'd run quite a few panel discussions and Q&A Sessions in the past, so this was no stranger to him. At least a bit of time being in control of his own environment would be nice.

"Do you know who else will be on the panel?"

"Not yet." He tapped his computer on, scanning his email with a glance of carnelian eyes. "I'm sure they'll let me know soon. I think Shingen will be on it, as usual, but he's the devil I know, at least. They haven't sent the rooming arrangements, either. Hopefully they won't think to partner me with anyone from U-T."

Hideyoshi snorted. "Hopefully everyone is wiser than that."

He still hadn't received a list of the others on the panel when he arrived to check in at the Isadora Hotel and Convention Center. Waiting patiently by the beleaguered reception desk, Nobunaga checked his email for the millionth time on his smart phone, but apparently the service wasn't great.

"Knew I shouldn't have switched providers," he muttered, and pocketed it.

"Mister Oda?"

He looked up with a smile. One of the convention officials smiled back at him, extending a hand. "Dean Parker. I'm organizing the rooming for the Innovator's Conference."

"Excellent to meet you."

"We've had a bit of a rooming shuffle, so I'm sorry that you weren't notified in advance." He flipped through the pages he held, making marks. "You're in penthouse suite 1905, top floor."

"Good." He took the offered key and tucked it into his pocket, rolling his suitcase away before even discovering his roommate. There would be time for that later, no doubt. Punching the button for the nineteenth floor, he contemplated all the work he needed to do, where he might get his coffee, how much time he would spend on the beach.... ding. The doors parted. His suite was in a corner, just where he liked it. He jimmied the key into a lock and swung it open, checking around.

Apparently, his roommate was already there. A black suitcase perched in front of a shut door. Well, that was fine. He wanted the other room anyway. Shutting the door behind him, he crossed into a spacious personal bedroom, a king bed with lovely sheets laid out for him, and settled his things down before heading into the main living area for some coffee.

The door to the other room opened as he bustled around the sink.

"Hello?" A woman's voice. Well, that wasn't unheard of for the IC. He'd specified on his sheet that he was fine with coed arrangements. Everyone could be professional. But why in the devil was that voice familiar?

"By the coffee," he answered smoothly, dumping a bag into the machine and starting it.

The patter of soft footsteps, and she came into view.