Page 30 of Inglorious
“Yeah, and I bet you sat there and didn’t say a word.”
Fucker! How the hell did he know that? Razor wasn’t wrong. I resented being made to attend the appointment, but I had no choice if I wanted my position again.
I’d considered just taking it back from Nanci, but I’d seen how the others treated her. There wasn’t a weakness I could exploit. If there were, I’d be in like a shot and reclaim my title. Nanci hadn’t even rightfully stolen it upfront. She’d not fought me for it or called a vote.
Instead, Nanci swanned her cute ass in and just took what she wanted. Like always. That frustrated and infuriated me.
“You want me back as president?” I asked Razor.
“And the conversation returns to you,” he quipped.
Shame flooded me as Razor stood and added, “The old Inglorious had my full support, love, and respect. This versionof you, no, I don’t want you anywhere near a position of power. You’ll always be my brother, but you’ll never be my president again. Not like this. Grieve and heal. That’s my advice.”
Razor walked away before I could gather my thoughts. His words hurt and cut deep. Did he really think like that? I’d been angry at my brothers supporting Nanci, but honestly, would I want a president like me? Hell, no. As much as that admittance caused me pain, it was the truth.
Nobody liked a drunkard, and I was one. Puffing out my cheeks, I looked around me. I was sitting outside the second hotel we’d intended to restore. Merritt bustled; not with sightseers like I dreamed, but instead with workmen as they hauled materials back and forth and worked on the building opposite me. The saloon.
Merritt should have been finished by now and be open to tourists and holidaymakers. We’d planned to advertise it as a real old-fashioned Wild West town. There’d be no modern buildings built, destroying the atmosphere of Merritt. No, we’d keep this as it was. Preserving our history and allowing people to sample the old way of living.
A Harley arrived, and I looked up to see Scythe parking at the clubhouse. My eyes narrowed. Why the fuck was he here again? Lately, Scythe had been around daily, and a thought slammed into me. Was Scythe interested in Nanci? What the hell? He swung off his ride and headed inside. An urge hit me to chase after him and spy, but I fought against it. What Nanci did, didn’t matter to me.
Or so I told myself firmly.
Nanci
I glared at my phone, cursing Dan, the security guard where I used to work. He’d told me that my ex had been around asking questions about when I was returning. Dan had played dumb, but it didn’t bode well. Why Raymond was sniffing about, I didn’t want to find out. Raymond had been a mistake I never intended to repeat. Today, I’d sadly had to make a decision about my business, and while I’d come to one, it was hard to swallow.
I eyed my cell with distaste for the task ahead and picked it up. Moments later, I placed it back down as Scythe entered my office.
Thank fuck for Scythe, his distraction welcome!
Chapter Seven.
Nanci
Sadly, I dialled Tish with a heavy heart. Tish was a friendly rival of mine and one of the few people I could trust despite our rivalry.
“Hello, Nanci!” Tish said, picking her phone up.
“Hey, how are you doing?” I asked.
“Busy, busy. How can I help?”
“I’m selling the school,” I stated and left the words hanging.
Tish caught on. “And you’re giving me first refusal.”
“Yes.”
“What’s your price?”
I named a figure and waited.
“That’s reasonable. I kinda thought you’d try to gouge me.”
“Tish, I’m not a rip-off merchant,” I replied.
“Are you sure you want to sell? South Dakota ain’t no Vegas!” Tish said.
