Glancing at his gold Rolex, he sighed. With his thick muscles and brute swagger, he wasn’t at all the company type. He was, however, an excellent lawyer. One of the best. The story was that Hastings, on behalf of his client, outmaneuvered Frank on a Fifth Avenue townhouse he was purchasing for himself. Upon realizing he’d been had, Frank hired him on the spot. Which was why I knew this visit was not without purpose. Damon was a master strategist.
“Say what you came to say or get out. Some of us have a company to run.”
“Always playing teacher’s pet…” he mused out loud. “For years, I thought you were fucking Frank––”
Now that got my full attention. My head snapped up at his sheer freaking audacity. I’d heard the rumors too and figured time would eventually put them to bed (figuratively speaking) when everyone finally realized there was nothing to them. But no one had the balls to say it to my face. No one but Damon.
“Are you trying to get me to fire you?”
“––until I realized how good you are at your job…Remember the building in Dubai, back in 2011?”
I nodded, recalling the details. “They changed the zoning laws the last day of escrow.”
“No one else caught it. There were five of us working that deal and you were the only one to check before the funds were wired.”
“As much as I appreciate this stroll down memory lane––is there a point you’re trying to make?”
“I’ve never liked you, Evans, but I’ve always thought you deserved to be general counsel. You earned the job.”
I was too wrapped up in ascertaining where he was going with the conversation to correct his use of my maiden name for the second time.
“Am I happy Frank left you in charge? Nah––I’m far from thrilled.” Shaking his head, he leveled a flat stare on me. “But you’re a fuck load better than Scott and ten times more qualified.”
Standing, he adjusted the cuffs of his custom-made shirt. “Watch your six. I don’t know what happened between you two, but I know you’re barely speaking and I have a feeling Scott’s working to have you removed as acting CEO.”
The news slammed into me. Damon was a strategist, but he wasn’t shady, or full of it. He wouldn’t be telling me this if it wasn’t more than a hunch. Scott, on the other hand…I wasn’t certain what Scott was capable of anymore, what lengths he’d go to punish me. I wasn’t sure I could trust my own husband anymore.
“What…makes you say that?”
“Solid intel from a reliable source.”
Which, for Damon, meant he was sleeping with the source.
I kept my composure, measured my breathing. Always in control. I thought I’d retired that crutch for good, that I’d gotten beyond it, and yet it came roaring back with a vengeance under the slightest provocation. Which was a real bummer.
“I don’t have time for drama, Hastings. Either explain or drop it.”
He gave me a cryptic look. “Don’t let him muscle you out.”
I desperately wanted to doubt him, and yet I knew there was a very good chance he was right. That after everything Scott and I had shared, we were right back where we started––as adversaries.
Hastings walked out in a lazy stride, hands tucked in the pockets of his suit pants like he was going for a leisurely stroll.
“Damon…”
Glancing over his shoulder, he gave me a questioning look. An understanding passed between us. Then he nodded and left.
Frank always did have an eye for talent.
The following day I barely had time to step into my office when Michelle, my secretary, greeted me with the news that Scott wanted to see me in the conference room for a meeting. This was met with a mixed bag of feelings.
First and foremost, resentment for being summoned. I wasn’t his employee or at his beck and call, but I wasn’t going to allow him to bait me into a reaction. We’d already played this game once before. He could do his worst. Eventually he’d either tire of the antics or his anger would cool––whichever came first was fine with me. Then we could have a rational discussion about what had happened and he’d see that I had no choice. That I couldn’t betray Frank’s trust. That it hadn’t been my call to make.
Next was relief because I actually nurtured a kernel of hope that he’d come to his senses. Perhaps he wanted to clear the air. Secretly, I was praying that he missed me as much as I missed him. Last was a small bit of suspicion over what Hastings had claimed.
I stepped out into the hallway, headed to the meeting, and shot Michelle a do you know what’s going on look and my secretary simply shrugged. Business was business, however, and regardless of our personal differences––differences that had kept me up every night since Frank had died tossing and turning––I was going to make sure he understood that there would not be any more “meetings” without him running it by me first. I was acting CEO and this was bullshit.
When the room came into view, my steps faltered because what I saw confirmed my worst suspicions. Through the glass-paned wall, I could see the entire board of directors seated at the conference table, Scott standing at the head of it. Any hope I had disappeared, and my stomach sank. Hastings was right. There wouldn’t be any heartfelt reconciliation. He didn’t want to discuss business, or our marriage. Whatever it was––it wasn’t good.
I entered, grasping my cell phone with an iron grip, my diamond wedding band painfully digging into my skin. Anything was preferable to feeling the collective stares of all the people in the room. Well, all with the exception of the one I still loved.
Scott spared me only the briefest of glances before his attention returned to the board members seated around the table. He looked the part. Nobody would’ve mistaken him for a spoiled playboy. And it wasn’t just the expensive suit, or the neatly parted and swept-back hair. It was his demeanor. He looked hard, formidable. He looked like vengeance incarnate. Everything Frank wanted him to be.
I’d felt his love. Even now, even though he was fighting it tooth and nail, I knew he still loved me the way I loved him. After everything he’d done and said to me, I wanted to wrap my arms around his waist and bury my nose in the warm skin at the base of his throat. I’d never wanted to touch him as badly as I did in that moment, ironically, when he was most out of reach.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” he began without addressing or introducing me. He hadn’t even asked me to take a seat. No acknowledgement of my presence. It was the worst insult he could have leveled at me and he knew it.
He owned the room already. One glance around confirmed it. Nobody was looking my way for guidance. After dedicating my life to this company, having known most of these people for a large part of it, I’d suddenly become not only invisible, but dispensable.
“The five of you on speakerphone, please acknowledge who’s present.” All five board members on the phone spoke up. He pursed his lips before speaking. “Losing my father so unexpectedly has been a tremendous blow for me personally, for my family, and for this company…”
The “unexpected” remark was entirely for my benefit, aimed at shaming me once again.