Page 13 of Forbidden Desire

“And it doesn’t stop there. Every independent newspaper that I’ve bought out over the past year has seen a major turnaround in numbers.The New York Voiceis just my newest conquest, and your biggest rival.

“You used to be the number-one independent paper in the city, but since I’ve taken the reins, that’s no longer the case.”

“It’s just been a lucky few months,” says Mr. Walsh.

“Luck has nothing to do with it, and I think you know that. Restructuring. Fresh web layouts. New columns.That’swhy. And I can do the same for your paper.”

George remains silent as his eyes drift over the papers before him, but I know his focus is not on the numbers. It’s on the fact that his business is failing, and I’m the reason why, and the numbers before him aren’t telling him anything new. They’re just salt in the wound.

“Look, I know you started your paper as a way to bring a new voice to New York City. I admire your passion. I feel the same in my own business.”

“I doubt that,” says Mr. Walsh, as a frown tugs at his mouth. “You have no real passion aside from profit. You’re a shark. Everyone knows it.”

“Money is my passion, Mr. Walsh,” I say. “And I know it’s something you’re running out of.”

I see his face falter slightly before I continue.

“I also know how hard you’ve tried at everything to see your newspaper take off, including bringing in that author to write short stories, but even she can’t help you now. The ride has been bumpy, with more lows than highs. Trust me, I know. I’ve followed the numbers over the years. After all this time, don’t you want to see it succeed?” I ask.

“Of course I do,” he snaps.

“Then let me buy you out.”

Our lawyers sit in silence, watching us play a proverbial game of tennis across the conference table, with my serves too swift for Mr. Walsh to return. They’ve been in this long game right alongside us, and I’m sure they’re ready to move on as much as I am, no matter how much they’re getting paid by the hour.

“I know what you do to papers…” says Mr. Walsh, furrowing his brow.

“And what’s that?” I ask with slight amusement.

“You destroy them by digitizing them. You take something that’s nostalgic and turn it into something people can no longer get their hands on.”

“I’m just getting with the times, Mr. Walsh. Maybe it’s time you do too.”

“And what about your means of restructuring? Don’t you feel the slightest bit of remorse by the layoffs and downsizing?”

“It’s just business. It’s nothing personal.”

“Well, I don’t run things like that. I actually care about my employees.” He lifts his chin.

I shrug. “And maybe that’s why I’m where I am, and you’re where you are.”

He looks thoughtful for a moment.

“I’m willing to double my last offer,” I say casually, as if a multimillion-dollar deal isn’t on the table. It’s way more than what it’s worth, but if I could get my hands on it, I’d turn it and make a generous profit.

Mr. Walsh’s lawyer whispers something in his ear, along with his partner’s ear. I think maybe this is it. They’ve finally broken their resolve and will give me what I want. But the look that washes over George’s face confirms that he’s still the same stubborn man he has been for the past year.

“We need more time to consider your offer,” says his lawyer.

I try to hide the frustration that is bubbling under my skin and give him a terse nod before looking to Mr. Walsh.

“Take all the time you need,” I say in forced politeness before delivering a little bit of poison. “But I just hope you’ll still have a paper to buy by the time you’ve decided.”

He shoots me a look that underlies with worry before standing from his seat, his partner and lawyer following suit. Elliott’s assistant sees them out and I watch calmly from my seat. Once I’m sure they’ve left, I slam my hands on the table, making papers float to the floor.

“Damn it. What is with this guy?” I ask.

“He’s too prideful. That paper is his baby. It’s hard to let go of something like that,” says Elliott with a shrug.

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