Page 4 of Priceless

Zenith Incorporated’s stock would take a nosedive, and not only Firefly Clothing would be in trouble. Every single one of our subsidiaries and their employees would be in danger. The Board understood the dynamics. Which was how I knew they weren’t fucking around.

“Uh,” a Beta named Lee cleared his throat. “Respectfully, we’re tired of cleaning up your messes.”

“Our messes?” Everett leaned down on the table with both hands. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“He means we’re tired of getting called by reporters asking about your latest fuck. Or why you’re in the papers in cities halfway around the world instead of doing your fucking jobs,” Bill said.

Cameron tilted my head and looked at him. “And it never occurred to you to direct those calls to our PR team? To me? Or maybe consider that those stories are either exaggerated or false?”

He snorted. “We know they’re not.”

“Do you.” It wasn’t a question. I stood and buttoned my suit jacket, staring the man down. His swallow was visible. Good. He should be scared at the moment. I didn’t speak much in Board meetings, and I was glad for it now. My words would carry the weight they needed.

“Allow me to enlighten you then, since none of you felt it was important to come to us directly with your concerns. We haven’t been overseas in over a year. The pictures circulating are from a trip three years ago. The pictures themselves,” I looked around at each of them, “I assume you’ve seen them since you’re putting such a weight on our public image, are hardly of consequence. The last time I checked, pictures of men dancing with women in a club weren’t a crime.”

Joseph scrubbed a hand over his face. “Mic?—”

“I wasn’t finished. Though it’s none of your business, we haven’t been in a relationship since before that time, because we’ve been busy doing, what was it you called it, Bill? Our fucking jobs. So by all means, throw a temper tantrum and try to force our hand, but do it knowing that this all could have been avoided had you been willing to have a conversation.”

The room was so silent you could hear the chairs creak when they shifted their weight. Not one single board member was looking at us. Except Joseph. His lips barely turned up at the corners, and it told me everything I needed to know. “Motherfucker,” Everett muttered under his breath.

Cam and I looked at Everett, but he didn’t meet our gaze. “You won’t stop with this, will you? You’ve decided this is what you want, and that’s the end of it?”

The smile on Joseph’s face was at once poisonous and victorious. “Correct.”

“Fine. Get the fuck out.”

Lee blinked. “But?—”

“I said get the fuck. Out.”

All seven of them did. The spineless ones who hadn’t said shit went first. And of course, they all couldn’t leave without a parting shot. Joseph nodded like he had any sympathy. “This is for the best. You’ll see.”

None of us spoke until the door shut behind them.

“Want to let us in on what just happened?” Cameron asked.

Everett hung his head. “They know all the stories aren’t true. They just don’t care. Joseph practically screamed it at the end. I want to wipe that smirk off his face.”

“The real question is why?” I asked. “This deal is good for everyone. And this is a made up stipulation, so why have they chosen this hill to die on?”

“Good question,” Cam murmured. “But it will have to wait.”

“Why?” Everett pulled himself to his full height.

Looking at his watch, Cameron smirked. “Because we have to go home and change before going to the Caldwell Gala.”

I groaned, and he shot a glare at me. “We don’t have to stay long, but we do have to go. We promised we would. And the last thing we need is for the board to think they’ve rattled us enough to skip our social calendar.”

He was right, and I hated that he was. I usually liked the Caldwell Gala. The house was beautiful, and in general, it was a fine event. No part of me wanted to go out while this anger seethed under my skin, but we had to.

“All right. Then let’s move quickly,” Everett said.

I couldn’t agree more.

Ninety minutes later we pulled up to the gates of the Caldwell Estate and handed the keys of the car to the valet. We’d all calmed down some in the ritual of getting ready for a public appearance, but it still hovered in the back of my mind. Like the pulse of bass from a nearby speaker, or a fly you couldn’t find and squash. When you were unable to find the correct color for that last final detail. Nagging and brutal.

Married. Married. Married.

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