Page 26 of Accidental Theirs
“It’s not like she’d let it show.” He’s practically talking to himself at this point, and I realize why he invited me over.
He’s worried about her.
“Richard, she’s going to be okay. She’s a grown woman, and she’s been running Carter Holdings ever since before Yvonne passed.”
“I know, but Yvonne had such a hand in it...” He sighs. “I’m afraid she’s in over her head.”
“Are you referring to the financial documents Damienprovided?” I know that in most cases, everything comes back to money. Especially for billionaires like us.
He looks at me shrewdly from over the beer bottle in front of him. “I can’t lie, that’s part of it. I can’t imagine that she knows how much stock Titan will hold once the merger is over.”
“Sixty-four percent is as low as we could go. And that’s the family and friends’ price, Rich. Seriously.”
He sighs. “I know. Yvonne was never particularly careful about her investments, and especially not toward the end of her life. But Carter Holdings is still a profitable business.”
“No doubt. Even with the merger at sixty-four percent, Carter Holdings stands to inherit billions from our financial department.”
“It’s a good deal.” His voice is firm, as if trying to convince himself.
I nod, standing strong. “It’s a good deal.”
Richard draws in a sharp breath. “And Olivia will understand.”
“She will. I’m sure she already knows.”
I’m honestly not sure at all that she does, or she would have slapped me as soon as she looked at me. I can only hope that Damien is mitigating that from his side.
Having known Yvonne Carter very well, I have to say I’m more than a little afraid of her daughter’s wrath.
Richard nods and finishes eating, going through a respectable two beers during dinner but not overdoing it.
I’m only finishing my first one because I plan on driving home.
“How have you been?” I look at him seriously, and he shrugs.
“You know. Some days are better than others.”
“And Olivia?”
“Same, I think. She calls me, sometimes, late at night. Asks questions she already knew about her mother.”
I nod, dread settling over me.
Talking about Yvonne brings up a lot for Richard and for me, so I clear my throat, changing the subject.
“What are your profits this year from your restaurant?”
He grins. The subject of Carter’s, the burger joint, always makes him smile, and I know he’ll go on a tangent, but that’s better than talking about loss.
He goes on and on about profit margins and their new menu, and I’m listening, but I’m also thinking about a cold beer in my own penthouse.
I get it soon enough, saying my goodbyes to Richard and his chef, who’s on her way home as I leave.
I crack open a canned, domestic beer that I’ve been saving in my fridge for just this occasion—having nothing to do until work tomorrow.
I drink expensive cocktails and imported beer when I’m out and about. I have an image to uphold. But in my personal life, I’m just a regular guy.
There’s just something about a shitty beer and a hot dog, you know?
