Her face turned soft and sad. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all my fault.”
“No it isn’t. You’re not responsible for what someone else does, but I’ll tell you this: you’re a brilliant attorney. If someone can find our family a way out of this, you can.”
I ran a hand through my hair and stood up. I hadn’t imagined going toe-to-toe with Grey Blackwood ever again, but if he wanted to come at my family, I’d have no choice but to stand up and fight him.
3
Grey
“Stir opponents up, making them respond to you; then you can observe their forms of behavior, and whether they are orderly or confused.”
~ Sun Tzu, The Art of War
I was combing through a stack of commercial real estate contracts when I heard a commotion in the hallway outside the open conference room door. Warren had been talking at me all day, but I’d long since stopped listening. The only reason he hadn’t been kicked out of the building yet was because he’d promised to produce his precious baby boy.
“There you are. What took you so long?” Warren griped, standing from his seat at the foot of the table. As petty as it may have sounded, I’d taken his spot at the head of the table the minute he’d taken his first visit to the men’s room earlier in the day. From that position, it had been easier to see people coming and going, which was why I was surprised that Ellison York had managed to slip into the conference room without me noticing.
“I only got your call four hours ago, and I was in Vermont,” Ellison said.
I refused to stand or pay him any kind of special attention. In fact, I refused to acknowledge him as anyone special at all. No one could possibly know that my breathing had shallowed and my skin prickled uncomfortably in his presence. All of this—the York takeover—was because of him, because of his cowardice and entitlement. Because he’d been a spoiled rich kid who hadn’t thought anything of ruining my life for a few minutes of fun with his friends.
At least now I was on top. I controlled his family’s life, their wealth, their privilege. Ellison York was going to have to come begging if he expected any mercy for his family.
And the image of Ellison on his knees again was something I’d spent a long, long time imagining. This time maybe someone else would get fucked besides me.
Warren waved off Ellison’s excuse and pointed an accusing finger at me. “This is the man who did this. Grey Blackwood.”
I could see Ellison’s eyes bounce between his father and me, realizing with surprise Warren had absolutely no idea I was the same man who’d supposedly ruined his son’s life in the club storage room years ago.
“Yes, I… I know Grey,” Ellison said hesitantly, eyes flicking to me again. The tension in the room was suffocating. Ellison was no longer a slight twenty-year-old. He’d filled out in his shoulders and chest. His dark hair had grown out of its conservative short style and was now slightly overgrown, revealing a sexy wave that threatened to turn into curls near his collar and over his ears. His brown eyes were still as warm as ever, and I knew from memory they had flecks of green around the edges. Those summers at the club when he’d spent time on the golf course, he’d had freckles on his nose and cheeks, but they were gone now.
Instead of risking my voice breaking with nerves and anger, I simply nodded in his direction.
Ellison cleared his throat. “Dad, can I talk to Gr—Mr. Blackwood alone, please?”
“Anything you say to this… thief can be said to me as well. I’m the CEO of this firm.”
Ellison met my eye and tried to communicate something to me before turning on his heel and walking out. Warren blustered and followed him, lecturing Ellison about respect and commitment. When they got about as far as the receptionist’s desk, Ellison turned back and raced past his father into the conference room and slammed the door, pressing the lock before his father could reach for the handle.
I felt my mouth open in surprise, and I quickly snapped it closed. “That was… something,” I said dryly.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for this. I need to get back to my job.”
“I thought you worked here,” I said, not enjoying the feeling of being misinformed.
“No. I quit. I work… somewhere else now.” He obviously didn’t want me to know where he worked, but I had news for him.
“According to an employment contract I have in one of these stacks here, you’re obligated to work for York another two weeks. Is that correct?”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “Can we skip past all this bullshit and get to the point? What do you want?”
“I want to see your father begging for money with a little cardboard sign in Times Square. I want to see your mother reduced to having to wear clothes from thrift stores. And I want to see you go to hell.” I growled that last part, losing some of the cool I’d promised I’d retain throughout this process.
Ellison’s eyes met mine. I expected to find in them a worthy opponent, anger and resentment at lowly Grey Blackwood, who’d somehow ended up making good. But that’s not what I found at all.
He looked at me with pity.
I clenched my hands into fists. “And since you’re legally obligated to give me the next two weeks of your life, I believe we can make all three of those things happen quite easily. Your father said you’d be more than willing to act as my personal assistant during the first two weeks of transition in exchange for allowing them to keep their home in Greenwich. You may start by ordering me dinner. I sent my real assistant home an hour ago.”
I went back to the stack of documents in front of me and tried not to listen to the silence between us.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
His words were gentle and kind. I heard the truth in them, and it made me want to scream and claw at anyone within reach.
Ellison York was the only one within reach, though, and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“For what?” I asked without looking away from the document in my hand.
I heard him move closer until he took the seat closest to mine. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything that night. I’m sorry I was such a coward. I tried apologizing to you afterward… the week after… but you wouldn’t listen.”
My teeth ached from grinding them together. Of course I hadn’t listened to him. I’d been in the process of trying to fight my mother’s eviction. Despite his fancy words, I noticed he hadn’t apologized for setting me up in the first place.
“I do not accept,” I said carefully so he wouldn’t mishear me. While his apology might have been sincere, it was also too little too late.
“I understand,” he said. “But please don’t hold your anger at me against my parents. They don’t deserve it.”
I glanced up at him. “Your father had me fired. He blackballed me from working in my chosen field. He tried to get me expelled from Yale.”
Ellison blinked in surprise. “He did?”
I made a production of checking my watch, the Rolex Cosmograph Daytona I’d bought myself upon the sale of my first batch of Lumeniar stock.