Page 125 of Beautiful Betrayal

“Optimistic,” I supply. “Okay, well, I’m getting used to that non-answer.” I turn to Grayson. “I’ll leave you three musketeers to your cautious optimism.” I kiss Grayson’s cheek and head into my office.

I’ve just sat down when my cellphone rings with a call from my father. “Hey, Dad.”

“I just wanted to check on you, with all this mess going on. Are you still in the Hamptons with Grayson?”

“We’re home now. I’m back at work at Bennett. And I have news. Are you up to a New Year’s Eve wedding?”

“New Year’s Eve?”

“Yes. New Year’s Eve.”

“That’s fast, honey.”

“It doesn’t feel fast. It feels perfect.”

We talk for a good twenty minutes and make plans for him to join us for the holidays. He struggles alone without my mother, and when we hang up, I wish for his happiness. I want him to find his partner in life.

My cellphone rings again and this time, it’s Delaney. “I was just about to call you.”

“I arrived home to being served.” Her voice trembles. “You were right. Mitch’s brother is suing me and my daughter for everything.”

Of course, he is, I think. “That’s good,” I say.

“What? How is that good, Mia? This is not good.”

“We need to talk about who the real killer is and it’s not you. Jim used you to get rid of his brother and you, in one fatal swoop. He intends to inherit. Instead, we’re going to make him pay. You have my word.”

Chapter eighty-three

Grayson

The immunity agreement is, as Blake said, a good deal.

I spend a good two hours with Eric and Davis, tearing apart the wording on the agreement sent to us by the Feds. All in all, we feel like we’ll get to a place where this ends for me and Mia, and really, for the entire company. We’re about to wrap up the meeting when Nancy hands me Reese’s contract and Davis claims it for review. He heads to the conference room to have the quiet he needs to ensure he doesn't miss anything. Eric is about to leave as well, but I don’t let that happen.

He’s already at the door and I’m in front of my desk when I stop him. “Don’t even think about it.”

Eric’s shoulders bunch but he turns around and shuts the door behind Davis. “If this is about—”

“It is,” I assure him. “How much do I owe you?”

“You don’t.”

“Eric—”

“Grayson, damn it.” He takes two steps toward me. “I don’t want your money.”

“Then I’ll just make a very large deposit into your 401k. I’ll estimate your generosity with my own.”

“Damn it,” he curses, scrubbing his jaw. “You know, if you weren’t such a generous fuck, I wouldn’t have done this. And now, because you are, you won’t let me. For once, let someone do something for you.”

“Here’s what you need to understand, Eric. You did. You risked your life for me last night. And that was just last night. You and I are friends. I trust three people in this world. You, Mia, and Davis, though you and Davis are not on the same level, and you know it. Wearebrothers.”

“Is that not what I’m showing you? Your money is not what we’re about?”

“I have the money, Eric. You of all people know that it’s a part of who I am. I was born into it. And I was taught to use it respectfully and thoughtfully and letting you pay to bail me out is not that.”

“It’s a gift.”

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