“Ahhh . . . so you’re not here to meet your dear old uncle. I was wondering when you’d get to the point. How long it would take. But finally!” Damon says, walking to his desk. “The reason you’re here.” He claps his hands together as if congratulating himself. “You’re here for your half of the company. What do you think? Should we share desk space? Make decisions together? How do you think my dear old dad saw this going? Did he think we’d make an excellent team?”
I stare at him. He is so cold that I freeze. Falter. Words can’t explain how this man makes me feel. Finally I find my voice. “Why did you go see my father the day he killed himself?” I ask the question I’ve wanted to know the answer to for so long, unconcerned as to what position that puts me in in his eyes—because I know without a doubt that when this meeting is over I will be the winner.
A smile slowly spreads across his face. He touches his fingertips to the desk and leans on it. “For you and your brother. Boy bands were popping up everywhere and I had one in my backyard. I wanted to represent you both, but Nick was adamant that he wasn’t going to let me. I may have mentioned telling you about Dylan and then I gave him twenty-four hours to decide. But we both know how he responded to that.”
“You’re not why he killed himself. He wouldn’t have wasted a single breath on you.” I’m seething. I shoot across the office and slam his head down on the desk. I’m shaking so much it’s making me dizzy. I inhale, then exhale and let go.
He stands up straight and removes his handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow. He levels his gaze at me. “How about we discuss whatever it is you so urgently had to call me away from my father’s funeral for before I call Johnny in to escort you downstairs.” He cocks his head and holds back a smile.
Shaking in my anger, I fist my hands at my sides. “I’m here for a trade.”
“A trade. Really?”
I hold the paper in the air. “Ivy for this.”
His eyes darken as realization dawns on him. “I didn’t play you for the type to put love before business. I have to say I’m surprised. But it’s not going to be that easy. There is so much I want from her before I can let her go.”
Stepping forward, I stand directly in front of him. Eye to eye. I’m buried in hatred, anger, frustration—wanting so much to wrap my hands around his neck and strangle him. But I have what he wants and I’m pretty sure he wants it more than anything else. I casually walk around his desk and take a seat in one of the two chairs in front of it.
“Maybe you’re more like me than my brother. Willing to make a deal,” he says with a grin.
“We are nothing alike. Nothing!”
His eyes gleam and he sits in his desk chair, tenting his fingers. “You start. Tell me what you think you can offer me for that beautiful wife of mine.”
Vibrating with disgust as the words roll off his tongue, I take a deep breath, knowing I have to keep myself under control. I put my poker face on.
He squeezes the arms of his expensive leather chair and with a clenched jaw asks, “Why are you here?”
I cock my head and suppress a bitter smile. “To tell you it’s in your best interest to file annulment papers as soon as your shaky fingers can call your attorney.”
His bottom lip trembles. “Why would I want to do that?”
No longer able to hold my smile back, I tell him, “Because for every minute that passes once I leave your office today that you don’t, you might not like the results.”
“Don’t play games with me, boy.”
“Oh, see, here’s where you’re wrong. I’m not a boy and I’m not playing any kind of game. I’m dead serious. I will sell one share of stock to the public for a dollar for every passing minute you don’t pick up that phone. You figure it out—you’re smart. In about a week, half of Sheep Industries will be worthless. Oh, and when you call your attorney, tell him to terminate your contract with Ivy, effective immediately.” I’m quiet for the next few seconds as he sits there with an incredulous expression on his face. Then I look him straight in the eye and add, “And when our business is settled you can do what you want with the company. I’ll stay silent. But hear this: if you ever threaten my family again I’ll make it my life’s mission to ensure you don’t have a company left to run.” Once I’ve said all I came to say, I get up and walk out the door—never looking back, never wanting to see his face again.
CHAPTER 19
Dig
One Month Later