Page 15 of Succumbed

“What’s the news from Greenstar?”

He relaxes in his chair. “They haven’t been forthcoming about the details, but they’re making big claims. There are rumors they’re meeting with a high-up official at the state’s Department of General Services.”

A lightbulb goes on in my brain. “The budget for new schools….” My voice trails off. The state had recently announced a nearly $1B investment toward school construction projects throughout California. I’d read an article written by my friend Cass about it earlier in the week.

“My thoughts exactly.” Parker’s mouth turns down. “Lex, if they’re right and Greenstar is using faulty data to pitch green building materials to the State…”

A chain reaction of potential catastrophic events flashes through my mind. “I know. I’m worried about it, too. Forget the impacts to the startup community, faulty school buildings would put too many lives at risk.”

Silence falls between us. After a moment, I sigh. “Well, that’s decided, then.”

Parker can’t quite fight his smile.

“I need to be hands on to start, but I’d like you to take over once we get past the Summit. You up for it?”

“Absolutely,” he enthuses. “And whatever support you need between now and then, I’m your guy.”

I chuckle. “I’ll take you up on that.”

I’m late. Only by five minutes, but still. You have no reason to feel guilty, Lex.

“Please excuse my tardiness, gentlemen.” I step up to join the three men at their table.

Shane and Lincoln stand on my arrival, both dressed in smart suits–Shane with black on black, and Lincoln in navy blue over a white button down, open at the collar. I have to resist the urge to look them up and down, my eyes drawn to the bulge of Linc’s bicep and the narrow taper of Shane’s waist. Declan remains seated, though he still cuts an imposing figure in a simple black suit and white shirt. His tailor deserves a raise. That coat looks painted on.

Declan barely glances my way before his eyes fall to the glass of water in his hand. I remain standing, watching him while Shane and Lincoln watch me. After a minute, I break the tense silence.

“You came to me. Am I to assume you’re no longer interested in my investment?”

Declan’s fierce green eyes finally fly to mine. I feel the fire in them like a physical burn, and it stirs parts of me I shouldn’t be noticing at a business dinner. There’s no denying his…intensity does something to me.

“What do you mean?” he barks.

“Like most people, Mr. Wilde, I expect a modicum of respect from those I choose to work with. If you can’t scrape together enough to acknowledge my presence, there’s no reason for me to waste my time with you or your venture.”

“Ms. Livingston, I assure–”

I hold up a hand, stopping Lincoln mid-sentence, my gaze still pinned to Declan. “While I appreciate your desire to smooth things over, Lincoln, I’m going to stop you there. I’ve dealt with far more difficult challenges than Declan Wilde, and I don’t need anyone to speak for me. Stand down.”

In my periphery, I see Lincoln settle back in his chair. A vein on Declan’s forehead throbs and he swallows roughly before rising to his feet. He gives me a stiff nod.

“Perhaps I would’ve been more welcoming if you’d given us the respect of being on time.” He mutters the last, as though saying it quietly could soften the insult.

“Declan–”

“Lincoln, if I may,” I interrupt, shooting him a pointed look before turning back to his older brother. “Let me be clear, Mr. Wilde. I will not apologize for things beyond my control. If the support I can provide Solum Technologies is not worth five minutes of your time, then I’ll take my leave. I came here tonight intending to have a very different conversation, but I will not tolerate your disrespect.”

Declan’s emerald eyes flash. In my peripheral vision, I see both Shane and Lincoln standing stock-still, their gazes flicking between us. As frustrated as I am with their partner, I’m inordinately pleased they both heeded my warning and are letting things between us play out without interference. Declan opens his mouth and Shane leans ever so slightly toward him, drawing his gaze.

“Mr. Wilde,” I demand, refocusing his attention.

Tension eases from Declan’s broad shoulders as he sighs, as though the weight of the world is on him. He slowly meets my gaze.

“Forgive me,” he says tersely. “It’s been a stressful week. We’d appreciate it if you’d join us, as planned.”

I want to laugh in his face. In my experience, a woman’s definition of ‘stressful’ can make a man’s look like a goddamn spa day. But I don’t feel like prolonging what is rapidly becoming the worst moment of my week, so I fight the urge.

“Fine.”

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