Page 154 of Devil in a Tux

“I don’t have that kind of money,” he protested.

“Your daddy does.”

His eyes went wide.

“If you don’t come to terms within a month, I’m taking this to the FBI.”

“None of them reported anything,” he said.

I cocked my head. It was interesting that he’d tracked that. “The local authorities may not be able to prosecute you after this much time for lack of physical evidence, but that won’t hamper the FBI on the conspiracy charge. Your daddy won’t be able to get you out of this.”

He took a slow, defeated breath. “What else?”

“You are going to resign from the company, and your father is going to support Fergus McAllister at the next board meeting and then resign from the board. Neither of you will have any contact with, or attempt to influence anything related to any of the McAllisters ever again.”

“Anything more?” he asked, trying his best to look bored.

“Yes.” I picked up the glass of mezcal and slung the contents at him.

“What the fuck?” he sputtered as he backed away.

“That’s for these five women. I’ll have people watching you, and if you start up again, I’ll know, and I’ll publicize the hell out of this little pile. With the press shit I can stir up, the FBI will be all over you.”

I grabbed my bag, placed the mezcal bottle and papers in it, and walked toward Albert. “Now get started,” I said, looking back at Martin. “You have two deadlines. I want to hear that you’ve left the company by the end of the day tomorrow, and you have a month to settle with those women and their families, not a day longer.”

Albert threw the phone on the table. It skittered across the surface and fell to the floor. Then he opened the door for me. “You are quite something, Miss Alexa,” he said after the door closed behind us. “I only know one martial art.”

* * *

Evan had toldme planning was key to a successful acquisition, and I knew that included good contingency plans. Any counterpunch needed to be kept secret. Otherwise, the other party could plan a defense, a counter to the counter.

That was why I now stood next to Evan’s admin, Diane, riding the elevator in the McAllister building. She’d scheduled the appointment for me.

The final ding of the floor counter sounded, and the doors opened.

I followed Diane’s purposeful steps with my heart in my throat. The man we were to see had a reputation as a ruthless negotiator, and I wasn’t certain to prevail.Hold eye contact and control your breathing, I chanted to myself.

It had been two days since my ultimatum to Martin, and so far no news. He’d stayed with the company. That meant things were not going as I’d hoped—not yet.

Breath control was well and good, but my deodorant threatened to lose the battle to keep sweat from dripping down my sides. I was already a wreck, and I hadn’t yet faced my nemesis again.

“Hi, Diane,” the admin said with genuine warmth in her voice.

“I have an appointment,” Diane announced.

“He’s been busy, and I haven’t had a chance to check with him. Can I tell him what it’s regarding?”

“No,” Diane said with brutal efficiency.

The admin’s brow lifted, but she didn’t challenge us. Clearly, Diane had clout around here. “He’s inside, if you’re ready.”

“We are.” Diane opened the door and ushered me inside, following and closing the door behind us.

Fergus McAllister sat behind a large desk, scrutinizing me and then Diane. The master negotiator showed only the tiniest bit of aggravation at my entrance. “I don’t recall inviting you, Ms. Borelli.”

I sat in one of the leather visitor chairs opposite him without it being offered. “Fergus, I invited myself because I doubted you’d believe me without seeing the evidence for yourself.”

“Whatever it is, I’m not interested. I think it’s best if you leave of your own volition.” Translation, he’d call security to escort me out. Old-school gentlemen like him didn’t yell or get physical; they called in pawns to do their dirty work.

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