“What’s this?”
He looks it over and frowns. “I don’t understand.”
“Did you give that to Julie to deliver to the lawyer?”
“It’s with the lawyer. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Well, I did think about asking you that. Usually, I’d never listen to Julie when she’s causing rifts, but after talking to Brian Wood, he confirmed her story.”
Crimson betrayal colors his cheeks. “What story?”
Getting to my feet, I bring my palm down hard on the table, making him start. “Don’t! Just have the fucking balls to tell me to my face that you were going to vote with the other shareholders.”
Dropping his eyes to the floor, his hands go to his hips. “Brian’s voting also, so whatever his told you…” he begins, but he’s interrupted when I pick up his contract and throw it at him.
“You don’t get a vote. The papers were never filed.”
He fumbles, picking them all up. “You’ve already signed them.”
“Have I?”
Scrambling between the papers, he slowly looks up at me. “Where’s the last page, Fin? You can’t do this.”
It takes all my willpower not to jump the table and beat the shit out of him. “How long have we been friends?” I ask.
“It’s just business. You used me as your fucking mule and I’m sick of doing all the work and not getting what I’m owed.”
“You wanted to push me out of the company my father built! You’re owed nothing.”
“So what now? You take back your share and…?”
“They’re not my shares anymore.”
Frowning, he shakes his head. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve sold my shares to Robert Whitmore.”
I take pleasure watching him so confused, and retake my seat while it sinks in.
“He couldn’t afford this place. Why would you sell your shares?”
“That’s not really any of your business. You turned your back on me when I needed you to be the friend I thought you were.”
It hurts to think when my ship was going down, he would watch me sink and throw a weight around my ankle.
“It’s my business because I’m still a part of this company.”
Ha. He’s got bigger balls then I gave him credit for.
“That’s the thing. You’re not part of the company anymore. That was part of the deal.”
He screws his face up at me and shakes his head. “You can’t do that.”
“It’s done.”
“You wouldn’t get rid of your dad’s company,” he says in disbelief.
I get to my feet again and round the desk, getting as close to him as possible without touching him. “I’d rather go out on my terms than be pushed out by someone as weak and two-faced as you. I’ll take the money and invest it in something new that I want to do. That’s what my father would want.”
I move past him, commending myself for not breaking his face, and just before I leave the room, I add, “And, Brad?” He lifts his head to look at me. “You lost more than a job today, you lost a family. Don’t ever darken my door.”
Robert Whitmore has been trying to acquire the company ever since Dad passed. He was a good friend to my father, and someone who respected the company for what it is and he’s not someone who wants to dismantle it.
I’d not been interested before now to sell, but everything with Antonia and losing the baby taught me that life is unpredictable and I don’t want to waste mine doing something that doesn’t make me happy.
Thoughts of Antonia make every muscle coil into knots. I hate everything about myself for being so reckless. This will destroy what’s left of her heart, and that makes me want to die.
When I hate myself and everything I’ve done, how can I ask her to still love and forgive me?
AIDAN IS BEING SHEEPISH around me and I have no idea why. He’s been texting on his phone non-stop these past two weeks and it’s making me think that maybe he’s reconciling with his ex. He knows I hate that she cheated on him and treated him like garbage the entire time they were a couple. Them getting back together will be a punch to the balls because my brother deserves a decent woman, but he’s my brother. If he loves her and wants to take her back then that’s his choice and I’d respect it.
He gets up and goes to the fridge to grab a beer when his cell rings from the coffee table in front of me.
I reach for it and answer. “Hello?”
Aidan rushes at me but I jump out of his way.
“Listen, I’m sorry. You know how I get. This relationship is what I want, I’m just used to being in charge, but if you come over, I’ll let you make me sweat for once.” A male talks down the line, and before I can say anything, Aidan grabs the cell and ends the call. We’re in a stare off, and he’s pissed at me, but what the fuck was that?
“That’s fucking bullshit what you just did. Don’t ever do that again,” he warns me, his nostrils flaring.
“Who was that?” I ask, confusion raising my voice.
“None of your damn business.” He storms out of the room. The sound of his bedroom door slamming rattles the foundations. What the fuck was that?
“Antonia!” I call as I march into her apartment. Her head peeks over the back of the couch. There’s some show on the TV with five babies running around that all look the same.
“What is it? I’m watching OutDaughtered.”
Walking over to the TV, I click it off, to her mortification. “What the hell?” she moans, throwing a cushion at me, which I catch, making her roll her eyes at me.
She’s made so much progress in the last couple of weeks and has finally let the flowers incident go.
“Gavin!” she snaps, with her hands in the air.
Shaking my thoughts of her out of my head, I drop the bomb that just nearly blew my mind.
“I think Aidan’s gay.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “Really?”
“It’s fucking with my head.”
“Why?”
“It’s weird.”
She narrows her eyes at me and then, out of nowhere, Mary appears. “What’s weird about being gay? I’m gay.”
She’s on the defense, scowling at me. Where the fuck does she come from? She’s like a cat or a ninja.
Wait. What?
“Since when are you gay?” I ask, astonished that she’s kept that titbit to herself this whole time.
“Since around the age of eleven, when Natasha Maine kissed me in the changing rooms.”
My mouth is agape as I look between her and Antonia. “Did you know this?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I didn’t know for sure.”
“Do you have a problem with me being gay?” Mary grunts, and I hold my hands up in surrender because she looks like she’s about to chew my face off.
“Not at all. It makes sense.”
“How’s that?”
I point to my face. “You said this wasn’t your type.”
A “humph” slips from her lips and she joins Antonia on the couch. They both sit staring at me.