Page 88 of Whatever You Need

“I asked myself that very question before this meeting.” My eyes pricked with tears. I knew this would be hard but nothing prepared me for the gut-wrenching feeling. “This company means the world to me, but the cost would be too great to pay. If I have to give him up, then there is nothing for me to reconsider.”

The irony of it all, is that I’ve spent most of my life having one dream, and one night in this very hotel I fell for a man who changed everything.

Owen’s scowl transformed into a greedy smile. “I guess that just leaves me. I know this isn’t what you both had planned, but I give you my word that this company will be in good hands.”

“This company might not have a board of directors to answer to, but don’t forget you still have a few hundred employees that don’t respect you,” I pointed out. “I’m not really sure that you are capable of running this company on your own.”

As much as I hated the idea of a private equity firm taking over, this company would collapse under his leadership within the first year if he didn’t have someone holding his hand. Everyone in this boardroom knew it.

“That’s really not your concern anymore, is it,” he said a little too smugly before turning his attention back to the three men at the table. “I suggest you all have a little faith in me. I am more than capable, and I’m the only option you have left, unless you want to sell to a stranger.”

My grandfather’s chair squeaked as he rested his elbows along the armrest. “Owen, it’s not just about having a fancy title and power, it’s about the people and pleasing guests. You have a reputation of making bad decisions.”

Owen was so sure of himself as he buttoned his jacket. There was no doubt he was expecting to get his way as usual. “While I admit Amelia brought a lot of value to this business, she didn’t do it all on her own. She’s not some freaking fairy who sprinkles gold dust wherever the hell she goes.”

He was so wrapped up in telling us how great he was, he didn’t notice the door to the conference room open.

My head snapped up and in walked my mother, her heels clicking along the floor with a confidence that couldn’t be ignored.

My grandfather glanced over his shoulder and gave her a questing look. “Tamara, what are you doing here?”

She scanned the room and dropped her oversized bag on the conference table. “Well, Jeffery, I’m trying to help you and Edward save this company by making sure it stays in the right hands. I had a feeling that Owen would try to worm his way into the top position. But before this goes any further, I think there are a few things you and your business partner need to hear first.”

Owen squinted his eyes at her. “Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”

Dread prickled the back of my neck as she made a show of rummaging through the contents of her bag.

“Tamara.” Edward leaned back in his chair, adjusting the cufflinks of his custom shirt. “Why don’t you dispense with the theatrics. Whatever you came to say, please say it. We have some pressing business to attend to.”

She produced a large manila envelope and placed a stack of photographs on the table. On top, there were pictures of a man and a naked woman in a dirty bathroom stall. He was sniffing a white powder off her breasts. I would recognize that figure anywhere. I clamped a hand over my mouth in disgust, looking down at the photos.

Everyone sat around the conference room table, shell-shocked as more images appeared of Owen and more women, so many women. Some looked very, very young where I questioned if they were even legal. I glanced around the room; my grandfather shook his head, and I’d never seen Edward Eastan so pissed off in my entire life.

“This is bullshit,” Owen exploded.

While I suspect that he had secrets, it never struck me they would be this dark. “Where the hell did you even get these?”

She crossed her arms. “I hired a private investigator.”

His hands shook with rage as he wrestled the tie off his neck. “What the fuck did you do that for?”

“Do you see this photo right here?” She pointed to an image of Owen and a young blonde, having sex in a lounge chair by a pool. “That girl is sixteen years old.”

A gasp flew from my mouth. There have been rumors circulating for years on how Owen had a type. I assumed when they said he liked them young, it meant fresh out of college. Never in a million years did I think he would be that sick.

My mother continued, unfazed by our reactions. “My PI was able to get a hold of your bank statements. Did you think those deposits couldn’t be traced? He was also able to track down a few of those girls, and they had a lot of interesting things to say about your sexual preferences. Let me tell you something, Owen, you are a very sick man. Let’s see,” she started to flip through a stack of papers, “Saints & Sinners sex club, the Pleasure Garden, Scores, the list goes on and on.” She ticked everything off on her fingers. “Underage girls, sex clubs, drugs… Should I go on?”

It felt like I was going to get sick.

Edward threw his reading glasses across the table. “I’ve seen and heard enough.” He spun around in his chair “How stupid are you?”

Owen sank down into his seat. “Let’s not panic.” I could sense his mind working on some bullshit explanation that would save his ass.

Neil took his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his forehead. “A drug and underage sex scandal will not be good for the sale of the business.”

Edwards nostrils flared. There was no mistaken he had reached his limit. “I warned you, son. I tolerated your unprofessional behavior for years. I looked the other way when you slept with anything that walked. I gave you everything you needed to succeed. All you had to do was work for it! I will not let the reputation of this company go down in flames just because my only grandson is a royal fuckup.” Owen’s gaze dropped for a brief moment. There was no way he wasn’t feeling humiliated as his grandfather continued to dress him down in front of everyone. “I was handing over my company. Pairing you up with a good woman. But this… is the end of the line. You know, for a smart guy, you do some incredibly stupid shit.”

My grandfather cleared his throat. “Neil, how can we fix this?”

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