Page 168 of Forgot to Tell You Something

“Are you threatening me? I’ll walk away from this deal right now. There are plenty of investors out there, Charlotte.”

“I’m not threatening you. You have something I want; I have something you need.”

“What is that? We are not reconciling,” I remind her.

“I’m aware of that, particularly after you proposed over the phone. How provincial.”

“What do you want?”

“I’m a businesswoman. I know a good deal when I see it. I only hope you’re as talented in that arena. Daddy wants to give you a payout once the training center opens, as thanks for all your hard work. But I thought it was overly generous, all things considered.”

“Get to the point,” I hiss.

“There’s many more training centers that need to be opened. The two of us know the ins and outs, we are the natural choice to open the remaining centers around the country.”

“There is no way I’m opening those centers with you.” I would lose my damn mind first.

“I figured you would say that, but I convinced Daddy to quadruple your payout…once all the centers are open. Will you really walk away from a ten-million-dollar payday?”

Jesus Christ, the rich really are an entirely different species. They bend the rules according to their whims and because of their deep pockets; they get away with it.

“Let me get this straight. If I don’t agree to spend every waking moment with you for the foreseeable future, you’ll have your father withhold my rightfully earned monies?”

“You’re getting paid, Owen. As per the original agreement, $250,000 for your time. It’s more than fair. The ten million is a gift, one that need not be given if the recipient is ungrateful. You do have a child on the way.”

I hate her, and I hate that a ten-million-dollar payday would ensure my family is taken care of for the rest of their lives—Tally, our children, and my mother. I hit the wall next to her, making her jump. “You are fucking evil, Charlotte.”

“No, I’m a businesswoman.”

“Is there a difference in your world?” I run a hand over my scalp, willing my heart rate down. “What about Tally?”

Charlotte shrugs, staring at her manicure. “What about her?”

“You were never giving her the coordinator position, were you?”

“No, I told you not to guarantee it. You’re the lovesick fool who’s going to disappoint her. Oh, one other thing. The payday is contingent on you fulfilling my needs. All of them.”

“I just told you we’re not reconciling.”

“I understand. The little woman can wear you ring, but when we’re on the road, you’re mine.” She traces her manicured nail down my shirt front. “Tallulah never has to know. I can be discreet, Owen. You discovered that firsthand.”

I grab her fingers, tempted in my rage to break them. “Not a chance in hell.”

“You might come to regret that decision.”

I hate Charlotte with a vengeance for throwing Tallulah into the middle of our squabble. But I know that she’s basing decisions on her negative emotions of jealousy and anger. I need to speak with Mr. Auerback, get to the real grain of truth. Of course, the man has never denied his daughter anything before. I highly doubt he’ll make an exception for the man who left her.

“You don’t have to decide now, Owen. Just let me know your choice…before it’s too late. Just remember, you’re as expendable as we are. We also have far more powerful attorneys in our corner.” With a last pat to her hair, she straightens to her full height, and glides back into the ballroom.

I know that the Auerback family has ruined more than a dozen people who didn’t play by the rules. Unfortunately, the rules bend and sway to their whims. Charlotte has made it clear if she doesn’t get what she wants, she’ll ruin me, and all I’ve worked for.

I’m tempted to pick up one of the elaborate side chairs and break every window in the place. Show them what a hardcore punk I really am. But I refrain—not for Charlotte or her father, but for the lives that can be saved and the petite angel I have waiting for me in Florida.

Tally deserves better than this garbage. Once I get home, I’m calling Regent and getting my family away from the sin and debauchery of the ultra-elite.

I stare into the ballroom, my blood raging through my veins. It may be a party celebrating innovations in healthcare, but it instead resembles a tank of hungry great whites.

38

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