Page 197 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I
Her frown intensifies. “Hercules, can I be frank with you?”
My shrug is the sort that invites frankness.
“I've been working with you for a while. You're a great businessman. You've kept this company afloat for a lot longer than it should have sailed. But software isn't your thing. Technology is tricky—if you don't know it, you can't thrive in it, which is why without Paisley Grove over software development, you might as well just sell the company and start anew. That's my advice to you. Let it fail.”
We stare at each other. My thoughts are turning. I hate that wordfailure. It does something to me.
She holds her composure in the face of my damning scowl. I don't like hearing what she says, but I know she's right. Technology is the wave of the future, and only those who are winning are those like the Groves.
“Your advice is duly noted,” I say.
Her smile is sympathetic. “But as long as we are trying, I'll talk to Clay, and if you can find an alternate or two, that’ll be great.”
I rub my palms together then slowly rise to my feet. I need to set her mind at ease. What I see looking back at me is someone who’s already resolved to failure. “Lilith, thank you. And I appreciate it.” I pause.
“You’re very welcome, Hercules. As I said, I like you.”
“And I like you too. I’ll have my financial manager send you proof of assets. Close down the dining facility if you have to. Don’t get rid of a soul yet. I have what we need. But it’ll wipe me out. And I’m willing to give it all if I have to.”
She’s not viewing me with sympathy anymore. Her eyes are glossy, and her smile is overjoyed. “Then I know what I have to do today.”
I nod briskly. “And so do I.”
Just as Lilith walks out of my office, my cellphone rings. I glance down at the screen of my device, which is on top of my desk.
Every muscle in my body tenses up. I think twice about answering, but I can’t just ignore the call. It goes against everything I’ve been taught.
I swipe my cell phone off the desk like I’m mad at it.
I tap the answer button. “Hello, Mother.”
Chapter Sixty-Six
Nothing But the Truth
Hercules Valentine
I’m driving up I-95. I gave James the rest of the day off. Unlike my brothers, I only use my driver to whip me across the city for work. I drive myself to Greenwich, Connecticut.
I need to be alone on this ride. I have a lot to think about. I also tried calling Paisley again, but yet again, her phone went straight to voicemail. I know why she turned off her phone. She’s avoiding her brother. That’s smart of her. I need her to avoid Max for as long as she can. I have to get our situation figured out. I can one hundred percent say that Paisley Grove will factor into every move I make from here on out.
I could’ve told my mother that I’ll speak to her soon enough, but she dangled a carrot in front of my nose when she said, “Come over now, Hercules. I'll tell you everything. It’s beyond time you understand why the Groves are no good.”
I chose to be respectful and refrained from blurting a backhanded comment about casting stones at glass houses. She's the one living with a fake name.
I drive through the main gates in past Paisley’s parents’ property. I remember the weeks she lived there after our run-in at VTI. I drove by a few times, hoping to see her running. I wasn’t going to say anything to her, though. I just wanted to see her. As I press the code to enter the iron gates to my parents’ property, I let myself remember intruding on her morning run on Saturday. She was so damn sexy with sweat glistening on her skin. And her come-hither eyes always make it hard for me to not fall into her allure. It used to happen a lot in high school too. I would be staring at her before I realized I was doing it. No female has ever gotten to me the way she has. I still can’t believe I didn’t recognize her when we bumped into each other at the track near her university back when we were in college. I was too distraught over having to marry crazy Contessa.
Glaring at the road, I shake my head. I was a fool to think I dodged that bullet. The only reason Achilles lobbied for me to get off the hook with her was because the family would bring in more money if I kept my head in the books and earned that degree from Harvard. Plus, we later learned that Contessa was doinking a basketball player from Duke. Given her age at the time, she became ineligible to marry me after that. Her defense was that I showed no interest in her. Still, the rule of the trust couldn’t be swayed. Gramps allowed for some fornication by females, but not before the age of twenty-six.
I always wondered if the guy had undiagnosed Asperger’s syndrome. That would explain all the intricacies and whatnot he put in his labyrinth of a trust, which keeps us all jumping through his hoops.
I make a right turn onto the property, and the gate automatically slides open. My mother’s expecting me.
Resembling a Victorian caste, the Valentine home is the largest in the community. The majority of my mother’s neighbors have gone the way of the Groves—opting for high-efficient single-story structures surrounded by plush lawns made of synthetic grass that resembles and feels like the real thing. My mother is stubborn toward change. I always viewed her as someone determined to bend the new world to her old-world style of thinking. I round the edge of the north side lawn, which is brilliantly green this spring, then pass the glass-encased indoor swimming pool.
I stop in front of one of the five parking garage doors. One stall houses my mother’s white Bentley. The others are empty. Knowing what I now know about the lie she’s been living for my whole life, I sense loneliness all around me.
My mother lives for social interactions beyond the gates of her home. However, she’s well known as the socialite Marigold Valentine. Why hasn’t someone been able to figure out her true identity by now?
