Page 216 of Savage Suit
I had been so busy with wedding plans, interviews, and invitations as Noah’s fiancé, I hadn’t thought of life after the excitement wore off.
“Ryan?” Reid inquired.
“Five minutes,” I said, throwing Quinn a warning look when she opened her mouth.
“Thank you,” Reid said when we were alone and the door was closed. Not meeting my gaze, he opened the envelope and drew out a small stack of papers. “Noah didn’t want a confrontation with you, so he sent me.”
“Right,” I sighed. “If that’s a prenup, he must own a few countries as thick as it is.”
He smiled and sat in the chair closest to me. “If it was a prenup, he would’ve discussed it with you himself.”
“So…?”
He glanced away for a moment, looked at me, then gazed at the top sheet. “Noah had a few bonuses built into your contract. Among which were a share in any profits fromLa Nostalgie.”
“What? Shares of the perfume profits were never mentioned to me.”
“Indeed, they were,” he insisted. “I told you about them and so did Noah.”
“No—”
“Time’s wasting.” He fluttered the page in front of my face, then placed it at the bottom of the stack. “Your signing bonus was never processed.”
I blinked stupidly. “Wh-what signing bonus?”
“The one Noah told you about.”
I searched my memory to recall any mention of such compensation. Either I was more forgetful than I thought, or I was being gaslighted.
He allowed me a cursory glance before it too went to the bottom, and he moved to the next page. “There’s also your severance package.” He looked at me until I nodded, before revealing the fourth sheet. “Your stock options.” He went to the next sheet. “Annual incentive with a guaranteed minimum.” And the next.
“Employee benefit for injuries incurred while on the job.”
My jaw dropped. “When did that happen?”
“When you fell and hurt your knee because you were being chased by the reporters. You were on the clock.”
“I was running late.”
“You were assaulted because of your association with Keegan Enterprises.”
“We both know that isn’t the reason.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s in company policy.” Before I commented, he returned to the paperwork. “The paperwork assigning the GLS SUV to you.”
“Whatthe fuck is that?”
“Your limousine,” he said calmly and resumed what he’d come to do. “Contact information for your security detail.” He shuffled the page to the back. “Your personal secretary.” Next. “Reimbursement for the company perks you didn’t use because we neglected to inform you.”
“Is Noah insane?”
Reid didn’t answer. He went to the next sheet. “The titles to your new Genesis G70. That’s more personal,” he added, taking advantage of my shocked silence, “but it still required legalities.” Next. “Damnit,” he growled in frustration. “This is also personal.”
“What is it?”
He rifled through several sheets. “Just paperwork giving you fifty percent ownership to some of Noah’s personal property in various locations around the world.”
“You’re joking.”
