Page 44 of My Big, Fat, Hot Billionaire Enemy
“I kept thinking I could fix it,” he murmurs, his voice thick with regret. “One more deal, one more project… I didn’t want to admit I was failing. Failing the company your grandfather built. Failing you. Failing your mother’s memory.” He gestures vaguely around the apartment, at the legacy surrounding him. “This is all I have. All I am. If Hammond & Co. goesunder…” His voice cracks. “It’s not just a company, Lucy. It’s… everything.”
My own eyes sting. Seeing him like this, so utterly defeated, breaks my heart. All the frustration I’ve felt over his recent decisions evaporates, replaced by fierce, protective love. He messed up. Badly. But he did it trying to keep his dream, our family legacy, alive.
“We’re not going under, Dad,” I say firmly, squeezing his hand. “I won’t let that happen.”
He looks at me, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “But how? Blackwell’s offer… Morgan… it’s impossible.”
“It’s not impossible,” I insist, channeling a confidence I don’t entirely feel.
Fake it till you make it, right? Or fake it till you prevent total financial annihilation and heartbreaking defeat.
“I’ve been working on it. I have a plan. We can fight Morgan. And Blackwell… he might be part of the solution, not the problem.”
Maybe. Hopefully. Please god.
“You need to take over, Lucy,” he says suddenly, his voice regaining a little strength. “Properly. As CEO. Reporting to no one. Not Blackwell, not anyone.Yourun the show. You make the decisions. It should have been you months ago, I just… I couldn’t let go.”
My stomach plummets. CEO? Me? The weight of that title feels crushing. All the responsibility. All the ways I could fail. The inadequacy monster roars in my head.
You’re not good enough. You only got this far because you’re a Hammond.
You’ll screw up.
“No, Dad,” I say quickly, maybe too quickly. “I can’t do it without you. We need you.Your experience, your guidance… I’ll handle the day-to-day, the negotiations. But you need to stay. As CEO.”
As the figurehead. As the safety net I can hide behind if I crash and burn.
He studies me, his gaze sharp despite his exhaustion. “What are you afraid of, Lucy?”
Failure. Being exposed as a fraud. Letting everyone down. Letting you down.
The words scream in my mind, but I can’t say them. Not now. Not when he’s like this.
“I’m not afraid,” I lie, forcing a smile. “I just think we’re stronger together.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he seems too tired to argue. He just nods slowly. “All right, sweetheart. Whatever you want. I’ll stay as CEO.”
We sit in silence for a moment. I make him promise to call Dr. Evans immediately. Then I prep some toast and tea for him, and watch him eat like a hawk. After, he seems a little better, with some color returning to his face.
But the image of his vulnerability stays with me as I finally leave for the office. The weight on my shoulders feels heavier than ever. It’s not just the company anymore.
It’s him.
Back at Hammond & Co., the atmosphere feels thick with tension, but it quickly defuses when I reveal that Dad’s okay. I explain to Carol that he’s just taking a sick day.
“That’s a relief,” Carol tells me. “By the way, something came for you. It’s on your desk.”
“Oh?” I approach my desk. And then I see them. A ridiculously elegant bouquet of flowers. White orchids, strange green fronds, deep purple lilies.
Definitely not from the office secret admirer pool, unless Morgan Weiss suddenly developed taste and a conscience.
Tucked into the blooms is a small, heavy card. No company logo. Just my name handwritten on the envelope in strong, precise script. My heart does a weird little flip flop.
Inside, the note is brief. Typed. No signature.
Morgan Weiss is a problem we can solve. Let me know how I can assist further. No strings attached.
No strings attached. From Christopher Blackwell. Is that even possible? Does the concept exist in his universe? The man who demanded I be his personal liaison as a non-negotiable condition? Now offering help with ‘no strings?’
