The sleepless night finally caught up with him, and Deacon released his breath and rested his head on the back of the chair. “Fine. I’ll admit that things in the boardroom got a little out of hand.”
“Who are you trying to bullshit, Deacon? You didn’t just let things get out of hand in the boardroom. You let them get out of hand the minute Olivia showed up with the contract. I get it. You were embarrassed when Donny John dragged us here and tried to mooch money from Uncle Michael. And you were really embarrassed that he did it in front of a girl you thought was pretty.”
“I wasn’t worried about what Olivia thought. And I don’t know what you’re remembering, but she wasn’t what you would call pretty. She was too skinny and had braces. Not to mention the pimple on her chin.”
“A pimple? You remember a pimple?”
Deacon grew uncomfortable under his brother’s disbelieving gaze, probably because Nash had a point. Why had he remembered a pimple?
“The point I’m trying to make, Deacon,” Nash continued, “is that having sex with Uncle Michael’s daughter isn’t a good idea.”
The bathroom door opened, and Grayson walked in. “Deacon had sex with Olivia?”
“So that’s where you disappeared to,” Nash said. “You’ve been in there the entire time?”
Grayson flipped a pile of catalogs on the table. “I was doing some research. They need to get a new photographer. The guy they have sucks.” He looked at Deacon. “So you had sex with Olivia?”
“I did not have sex with Olivia.”
“But he’s planning to, once he gets rid of her boyfriend,” Nash said. “So what’s wrong with the catalogs? I think the models are amazing.”
“That’s the problem. They’re too amazing. I’m not saying that models shouldn’t be beautiful, but they should also look real. And beautiful women come in all shapes and sizes.”
While Nash rolled his eyes, Grayson flopped down in the chair across from the desk. “So since the board members liked Olivia’s lingerie line, when are we going home? I promised Ms. Stanford that I’d paint her kitchen again. Even though I’ve painted it three times in the last six months.” He shook his head. “She seems to like the color on the swatch, but hates it when it gets up on the wall.”
Nash laughed. “I bet she does.” He looked at Deacon. “So that’s a good question, Deacon. When are we going home?”
Deacon looked away from his brother, and his gaze caught on the contract. “Olivia hasn’t signed the new contract yet.”
“But we all know that she will,” Nash said. “Only an idiot wouldn’t sign it when we gave her such a deal.”
The new contract was set up so Olivia would buy only a portion of the stocks. Then, when the new line of lingerie started making money, she would buy the Beaumonts out for the rest—plus interest.
There was only one small hitch. A hitch that Deacon hadn’t exactly made clear to his brothers. If the new line didn’t sell and the company went belly-up, the Beaumont brothers would be out millions of dollars. And since he’d convinced his brothers to sign on the dotted line, it was up to him to make sure that the company didn’t fail.
“I’m not leaving just yet,” he said. “I want to make sure that everything is on the right track before I come home.”
“But what do you know about the lingerie business, Deacon?” Grayson asked.
He had a good point. Deacon didn’t know shit about lingerie. But he knew about business. He knew that the collections Olivia had come up with were going to sell, but that wouldn’t be enough. If French Kiss was going to survive, it would need to be assessed and reorganized from the bottom up. And Deacon had always been damned good at organizing. “You’re right, Nash. I don’t know anything about the lingerie business. But since I now own stock in the company, I need to learn.”
Nash studied him. “Don’t you mean we, Deacon?”
“Are you saying you want to stay and help, little brother?”
“I’m saying that you’re right. As stockholders, we need to keep an eye on our investment.” He frowned. “And our big brother.”