Page 7 of Casita Casanova
I shudder at the thought of Beth getting laid.
Beth sighs again, then rubs her hands down her face. “Trust me on this, Ridge. If you don’t want the board to vote you out—”
I open my mouth to argue but she hurries to continue—
“Which theycan, by the way, per a small stipulation your father put into the contract.”
I rock back on my feet, then sit heavily onto a bar stool, weighted down by this shocking new revelation. “Whatstipulation?”
“The board has the ability to vote you out before your thirtieth birthday, if—”
“No fucking way.” I stand up again, my blood rushing like lava through my veins. “He wouldn’t do that to me—” I clench my teeth together. The hurt in my voice pisses me off.
But the look in Beth’s muddy brown eyes and the long silence stretching out between us tells me the old mandiddo that to me.
There’s an ache blooming in my chest that I don’t want to acknowledge.
“He didn’t trust me?”
Shetsks. The pity in Beth’s eyes makes my skin crawl. No one fuckingpitiesRidge Westcott.
No one.
“Can you blame him?” she finally asks.
Ouch. I swallow past the lump of emotion lodged in my throat and bite back a retort. Emotions war within me, from rage to despair. My chest is tight. I set the phone down and step out of her line of vision.He didn’t trust me.
I fucking worshipped that man and he didn’t trust me.
I punch at my chest to ease the pain.
“No.” I shake my head as I pick up the phone again. “They can’t vote me out. I won’t let them.”
“Theycan. And they will. They’ve already been discussing it.”
My mind races. My heart pounds. I gnaw at a hangnail on my thumb, staring blankly at the head of my PR team as she watches me patiently from the screen of my phone.
My father built this company from the ground up. It washisbaby and now it’smine. No one can take it from me. Grasping at anything, I ask, “If what? You saidif…”
“If the board finds reason to vote you out, they can. They’re practically chomping at the bit to do so.” She pauses, so I nod to indicate that I’m listening. “Let’s say, if fucking a senator’s practicallyminordaughter costs the company an upcoming acquisition, for instance, they can and will move to terminate you from your position within the company.”
My shoulders fall.
“I’mWestcott’sson. Period. Who else would love this company like I do? Who else would have the loyalty? The drive?” I punch at my chest again. Whatever this feeling is, I fucking hate it. “Westcott & Son is mine.”
“I know, Ridge.” She meets my gaze through the phone, her eyes pleading. “That’s why I’ve been trying so hard to keep you out of trouble, but you have fought me every step of the way.” She pauses, her voice softer when she adds, “Please don’t fight me on this.”
It kills me to do so, but I nod. She has me. I can’t fight her on this. I have to do whatever she says so she can fix the mess I’ve made of my father’s good name. I can’t lose the company. I refuse to.
With a deep sigh, I nod again, then square my shoulders. Time to man the fuck up. “Fine. Okay. Tell me what you need me to do.”
Beth breathes a sigh of relief. “I’ll email you the details. You leave day after tomorrow.”
Jesus. That’s no time at all. I don’t even own a surfboard and flip-flops,bruh. My lip curls at the thought. California? Really?
Why does Beth hate me?
“You said four to six, earlier. Four to six what?”
