Page 39 of The Renter
“What?” I ask, not understanding his reaction.
“Is this where you tell me that you two dated?”
“Dated?” I laugh. “You already asked me that.”
“I originally thought you two had slept together at some point.”
“Oh my God, no.” I laugh even harder. “We’ve exchanged maybe ten sentences, total.”
The relief so clearly spreads across Adam’s face. Then, my internal monologue calls me out.We’ve exchanged more than ten sentences.And every one has made my heart race.
“So, Shirts,” I sigh, shaking my head, not wanting to talk about this fresh wound. “I started the company with my cofounder, Derek. We knew each other casually before going into business, but the last three years, we’ve spent more time together than anyone else.”
“Wait, were you dating him too?” Adam asks, clearly amused with himself.
“Please,” I sass. “I would never date a trust fund guy, and I’m definitely not going into business with one again.”
“But I’m a trust fund guy,” Adam says softly.
“You’re different.” I giggle. “You built Harris Ventures. You work hard. Derek didn’t.” We exchange a flirty look. “See, I can be nice,” I tease, lightly swatting his arm. “Derek ran production and operations. I handled all the marketing.”
“And it was very good marketing,” Adam says, smiling, squeezing my hand.
“I like to think so.” I smirk. I squirm in my seat, needing to get more comfortable before diving into the last three years of my life. Sitting pretzel style in my bucket seat, I begin, “We had early success with celebrity and influencer gifting. Then we did more strategic social media ads, using photos from notable customers. The media also loved the brand because it had every sustainable and fair-trade buzzword. We intentionally made the company PR gold in that way. I fully trusted Derek in the beginning. I never looked at anything outside of marketing and stayed in my lane. But then I noticed things were not adding up. Our inventory did not correlate with the number of orders being processed. As I started digging into it, I realized that we were fucked. Not just in a we were unprofitable way, but in a his family was using our bank account as, like, a clearinghouse,I guess? There was a lot of money being moved in and out of the account that had nothing to do with our business.”
“I’m also learning the books are a nightmare,” Adam says. “His family …”
He also knows about Derek’s family?Like, how they got their money.
“Leaving the company isn’t the worst part for me,” I share. “It’s that I spent three years making an entry-level salary, vesting my stock options, hoping we’d sell.”
“We valued you at what—eight and a half million?”
“Yeah. There was a moment in time when I was so excited, thinking I could make a million if we kept growing and sold. But now there’s nothing to sell.”
“Did you want to leave Shirts before you did?” he asks, grabbing my hand.
“Yeah, but four years?—”
“Is the standard vesting schedule,” he interrupts, winking. Of course, I don’t have to explain startup nuances to AdamfuckingHarris.
He lifts my hand, kissing the back of it. “Sounds like you learned a few things. That’s worth a lot. Trust me.”
“Not enough. What hurts the most is I put in a hundred grand a few months ago, when we hit a cash flow crunch, before I knew about all the bullshit. And I did it without any repayment terms.”
“What?” Adam’s face hardens with intensity.
“It was stupid, I know.”
He places his fingers over his lips, looking deep in thought. “Where did you get a hundred thousand dollars?”
I make a nervous sound, hoping this part doesn’t make things weird between us. “Declan.”
Adam’s eyebrows shoot up as he looks over at me.
“Since you’re so curious about myrelationshipwith Declan,” I tease, then giggle at the absurdity of saying “relationship.” “Let me start from the beginning. It’s the most messed-up story you’ll ever hear, but you promised not to judge me for my past.”
“Okay?” He looks at me, unsure. “I’m ready.”
