Page 42 of Tributary

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Asa

DIANA ISN’T RETURNING my calls. Her phone must be off, because everything goes straight to voicemail and none of my texts are being read. I asked at the hotel, and she’d checked out early. Just left town and is refusing all contact with me.

Monday, I trudge into work early and hole myself up in my office in the dark, knocking through contracts and signing off on investments for hours before anyone else arrives. It’s well into the afternoon before I stand up to stretch and turn on the light in my office.

“Oh, Asa. You’re here.” Andrea walks past my door and stops in her tracks. “I didn’t think you’d be in today.”

“Why’s that?” I don’t even glance up from my monitor until, noticing something in her pause, I look up into her concerned face.

“Well, all the drama at Epi-D. Our legal team is all hyperventilating since they got that cease and desist letter.”

I dig my knuckles into my temples and rub a few circles. “I think I missed a memo, Andrea. Can you catch me up step by step, like I’m an intern?”

She nods her head toward her office and I follow her around the desk, where she pulls up an email chain filled with exclamation points. “Buford reached out a few hours ago. A courier dropped off a cease and desist letter from an attorney in Oak Creek, representing a certain botanist.”

Andrea goes on to explain how the attorney is challenging the legality and authenticity of the documents claiming Diana had nothing to do with the development of the patented plant strain and processing techniques to manufacture the Epi-D epilepsy medication. I can’t stop myself from smiling, even though I know this is costing me money.

“I suspected you might be happy about this. What does it mean for our bottom line?”

I clap her on the back. “I like how your mind works, Andrea. You always have Wexler Holdings at the forefront.”

“And you don’t in this instance?” Andrea cocks an eyebrow at me.

“I’m heading down to New Jersey. Want to come watch?”

“Absolutely yes,” she says, pulling out her phone to summon the helicopter for us. “I take it Dr. Crawford was pleased with her conference accommodations?”

I laugh, wishing I’d thought to consult her before springing all these surprises on Diana. “Oh I managed to fuck that one up pretty bad,” I tell her. “Maybe today I can course correct.”

A half hour later, the two of us storm into the board room at Jay Buford’s industrial facility. “Buford,” I say, by way of greeting, “Get out of here for ten minutes.”

He blinks at me, his hair a greasy mess, his button down shirt looking sloppy and sweaty, like he knows his house of cards is coming down today. “I said leave this room,” I repeat, noting the jaws dropping around the table. He doesn’t even say anything, just shuffles toward the door.

When it latches, I lean forward on the table. “All right, here’s the thing,” I tell the team. “It’s not worth the billable hours to me to contest this thing. And besides, I don’t like this guy and I don’t want to stay in business with him. What’s Sara Garrett, esquire, asking for?”

A few members of the team—shit, we really brought our most senior people for this?—exchange glances, until Tom, who is only slightly younger than my father and not much more personable, blurts out “6 mil in damages and a percentage of future earnings.”

I laugh. Fucking right, Diana. “Give her 10 million, and then dis-invest Wexler Holdings from the company. I want all of our shares bought out.”

Tom coughs. “Asa, sir. I cannot advise this course of action. Wexler Holdings is not in the habit of separating from profitable, promising endeavors such as—”

“Tom, Wexler Holdings is done doing business with a company who doesn’t take care with the intellectual labor of its scientists. If they’re careless with contracts, I don’t trust them to be meticulous with medication production. We’re done here.”

Andrea laughs and tries to keep up as I stomp out of the board room. I’m halfway down the hall when I see Buford shuffling toward me. “Mr. Wexler. Asa. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Buford, think of it as scraping a wad of dog shit from the bottom of my shoe.”

“Do you know how much money you’re giving up? We’ve been a cash cow for you. You can’t treat me this way.”

“You’re welcome to engage your own legal team to pursue the case if you like. I’m not sure how you’ll afford it once you’ve bought out my shares in the company. My legal team won’t be requesting a gag order or any sort of nondisclosure from the plaintiff, so I hope she feels free to talk about the case.” I step closer to him, looking down my nose at this disgusting excuse for a human, trying to quell my rage at the thought of him manipulating Diana. Through gritted teeth, I growl “If I hear that you contact her, even in writing, I will ensure that you are not only bankrupt but incarcerated.”

Buford works his mouth up and down but no sound comes out. I barely resist the urge to spit at him, and Andrea tugs on my arm. “The copter is ready to take us back,” she says.

I pause in the hall. A thought occurs to me, and I know it’s impulsive, and I know my impulsive choices have been my downfall when it comes to Diana, but this one feels right. “Hang on, let me grab Tom,” I tell her. “I’m going to tender my resignation.”

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