Page 92 of Power
My God, did that make me respect this woman even more than I already did. Fully understanding what she’d had to go through to get where she was in life, to see what she’d overcome, it made my feelings even deeper for her. Respect. Admiration.
“Jace, you didn’t ask to be born into a wealthy family,” Blake said seriously. “It’s not your fault. It’s not something you should be ashamed of. She’s making you feel ashamed?—”
“She’s not.” At least, she wasn’t trying to. “She’s just trying to help me understand the differences between us. It’s pretty pathetic that it took me this long to see it.”
“So, what, you’re going to start feeling guilty every time you use your platinum card?” Axel asked. “Should we meet at McDonald’s next time instead of the mansion? Will that help your conscience?”
“This isn’t about money,” I said, frustration rising in my voice. “It’s about consequences.” No, my life hadn’t always been easy … but it’d been a helluva lot easier than Scarlett’s and many others’ who had to pay for consequences that my privilege enabled me to avoid.
Before that conversation, I had convinced myself that Scarlett’s aversion to powerful people was confined to her experience with her father who had abused that power. But now, I realized itwent much deeper than that, and it was a huge roadblock that we might never be able to overcome.
Here was someone who was already grappling with the power dynamics between us, who didn’t want to be with someone who would never be held accountable for his own hypothetical actions simply because he came from a place of privilege.
And here I was, a man who’d done something unspeakable, something I had gotten away with.
If she found that out, she would never talk to me again, let alone ever consider a relationship.
“Jace, you’re a good guy,” Ryker said, his joking tone gone. “You literally acquire companies to save the employees. You’re like a white knight in a Mercedes.”
“People like me don’t suffer the penalties of our actions,” I said, my voice low. “Scarlett didn’t even do anything wrong, and she’s facing consequences that could destroy the rest of her life. Meanwhile, I’ve done something repulsive, and I never faced a single consequence for it.”
The room went quiet. The joking atmosphere evaporated.
“What are you talking about?” Blake asked cautiously.
“You respect me because I’ve taken my business skills and done something good with it,” I said, looking at each of them. “I buy companies and save people from unemployment and hardship. People commend me, put me on the covers of magazines, but do you want to know why I’ve always been on the mission to save as many jobs as I can? To save as many people as I can?”
They waited. They had asked me this so many times through the years, and I had never answered. Until now.
“To ease my guilty conscience,” I said finally. “Because I killed someone, and I was never held accountable.”
47
JACE
I followedScarlett’s challenge and tracked down every man in this company who’d had an HR complaint filed against him about sexual harassment over the past ten years. Seven men. Three still worked here. Of the four who no longer worked here, only one had been fired for it. One. All four now worked elsewhere, so I’d taken the liberty of calling the owners of those companies and letting them know my thoughts.
Power. I had it. Might as well try to use it for good.
The file in front of me made my blood simmer. This woman, Rebecca Collins, had filed a detailed complaint. Reading between the bureaucratic lines—the sanitized corporate speak that turned “he groped me” into “inappropriate physical contact was alleged”—I could sense her fear, her humiliation. How many Scarletts had suffered in silence in this building? How many women had these men tormented, knowing they’d likely face no consequences beyond a strongly worded lecture about “workplace etiquette”?
This guy’s days were numbered, no matter what, but I wanted a face-to-face. I wanted to do it myself. I wanted to wrestle a confession out of him so I could go back to that woman and tell her he’d admitted it, that he’d been fired. So I could give her closure and a fat recommendation to any job she wanted, here orat another company. HR liked to call it “creating a positive separation experience.” I called it the bare minimum of human decency.
I could only hope I wouldn’t resort to violence. That was the thing I worried about most. The board frowned upon CEOs who broke employees’ jaws, no matter how richly deserved.
Toby entered my office with an infuriating swagger, straightening his tie as he approached my desk.
Look at his smug mouth.I wanted to smash his teeth into the table so hard, his dentist would need four assistants to rebuild it, but I forced my hands to remain relaxed on the desk.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” His tone was casual, probably expecting this to be about a promotion or some new opportunity.
The nerve. This man had made a woman feel violated, made her afraid to come to work, and here he was, strutting into my office like he owned the place.
I gestured to the chair across from me. “Have a seat.” After enduring small talk to lower his guard, I got to the point. “I’d like to discuss the events of March 14, 2018.”
The change in his demeanor was immediate. His shoulders tensed, and that easy smile faltered. It was like watching a cockroach when the kitchen light flicked on.
Good. Let him squirm.
