Page 107 of Worth Every Penny

What a fucking mess.

My phone rings.

“Mr. Brooks on line one for you,” Victoria says when I answer.

“Put him through.”

Victoria clicks off and Martin comes on the line.

“Mr. Hawkston,” he oozes, more than a hint of menace in the greeting, and it has me clenching a fist. “Figured I’d be hearing from you sooner or later.”

“I’m sorry to hear retirement didn’t work out for you.”

He chuckles; a sound full of phlegm and mucus that makes me want to retch. “It did get a little boring. And then I heard the news that you were back, buying the company I used to have a fifty per cent stake in. And my interest was… piqued, shall we say.”

“What do you want?”

“What I’ve wanted for a long while. I want a bite of the spa project. That was my fucking idea.” Irritation skitters up my spine at the lie. Martin might have been there, but the spa was Gerard’s. “And now the Lansen kids are taking all the credit? That doesn't sit well with me, and you know how I like to keep everything fair.”

I take a deep breath, restraining the desire to yell at this delusional arsehole. “So do I. And the treatment you got eight years ago was very fair. You should be off sailing the ocean or drinking cocktails on a beach somewhere. Not sticking your nose into business that has nothing to do with you anymore.”

“But the Lansens never paid, did they? They didn’t have to lift a finger. You tidied everything up for them. And that is most definitely not fair.”

I say nothing. It’s true that I did fix it all… I could’ve walked away, but that would have been the end of my relationship with Gerard. The man who’d been more of a father to me than my own prick of a dad. If I’d walked away, it would have ended my relationship with Jack. With Kate…

“Even Gerard did nothing but sit there in his misery,” Martin continues. “Didn’t lift a bloody finger to sort it out. Hardly even ashamed of how he’d destroyed our company—”

“He died, Mr. Brooks. Shame, guilt, stress… whatever you want to call it. It killed him.”

Martin emits an indistinct sound that vibrates down the phone. “My reputation took a hit, you know, when you pulled out of the deal. Like the company wasn’t good enough. All sorts of rumours about what a poor job I must have done.” He clears his throat. “There’s no money that compensates for a destroyed reputation. I hope you know that, Mr. Hawkston.”

“Is that a threat?”

“What you did was barely legal.”

“I paid you back for loans. I repaid debts. With interest. There would be no Lansen without me. You would have been forced into administration. Isavedyour reputation. It was all above board. There are documents to prove it.”

“Come now, Nico. There’s no need to pretend among friends. You and I know that’s not quite true, don’t we?”

“You’ve got nothing on me, Mr. Brooks. And I’d advise you to drop this before I sue you for slander.”

I hear the smack of wet lips down the phone as if he’s cracking his mouth open and shut. “I’ll take this up with Kate Lansen then. She’s in charge of the spa project, isn’t she?”

“Leave Kate out of this,” I fire back, my voice rough. “You deal directly with me on the project. All calls come through me. Understand?”

He wheezes for a few seconds, and a dark part of my soul hopes he drops dead.

“My seat on the Argentum board is very influential, Mr. Hawkston. I have David Webster’s ear on this project. And I’ve been having some thoughts about the direction we should take. It’s possible Hawkston isn’t the right partner for us anymore.”

Fuck.Just how much control does Martin Brooks have over the future of Kate’s project?

“David wouldn’t fall for this,” I argue. “He knows we’re the best there is—”

“Good speaking to you again, Mr. Hawkston.”

The line clicks, and the bastard is gone.

32

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