Page 7 of The Betrayer
I had worked harder than anyone at that company, long days, late nights, over the weekends, just to prove I belonged there. More than belong, that I was good at what I did. I wasn’t just some rich guy’s goof-off son who skated his way to an MBA with beer and his dad’s money to fix things when they got bad.
No, I was serious, and I wanted everyone to know.
Then there had been another uphill battle and an outcry when my father made me COO at only twenty-six. The board—and everyone else—had been convinced I would destroy the company. They believed that even after all my work, I was only there because I was my father’s son. It didn’t matter that I had never once acted like I was my father’s son or that the company had been my only focus since I had started there, to the exclusion of everything else, including a life and love. It had irritated me to no end how no one had noticed I was my own person. Even if my father continued to act as himself, I didn’t.
Then I’d shown them what I could do, taking the company from millions to billions in an incredibly short time. Happy with their earnings and potential, the board had finally shut up.
But there were times when I still felt I was the kid who had to prove himself, over and over again, even though I should have already been far past that stage with all I’d done. People expected me to act like my father, though I never had, and refused to believe anything else.
Why did my father always have to enter the equation?
He had, in fact, come up this morning during a meeting with an investor. Lounging back in his expensive suit, he had expressed how impressed he and his firm were with how I’d grown the company over the past six years and our projected growth over the next ten. But he’d added a caveat that had thrown me for a loop: “with all the issues Will has had.”
For a moment, I’d uncharacteristically stumbled over my words before I’d found the right ones. “My father? Can I remind you that even though he started the company, he put me in the position of COO, and I was the one who guided it to growth? Not my father.”
I had pointed to the charts on the tablet screen in front of him to help make my point.
But the investor had shrugged and taken another sip of his coffee. “He’s still the CEO, Paul, and at the end of the day, you’re still just the COO. Whatever you did, he’s the head of the company, and he can still bring it down no matter how hard you work. Markets can always change.”
The words rankled deeply, festering until they felt like a burning wound. Or more like a cloud hanging over the celebration tonight, a warning everything could come down in a heartbeat.
I had called my father immediately after the meeting to make sure he would come and be on time, taking pains to remind him what this night was all about and how much it meant to the company and our investors. How much it meant to me.
He had been on the golf course—I could hear someone hitting a ball in the background, laughter, and men’s voices. My father’s answer had been distracted, neither a yes nor a no, just a vague indication he’d heard some words over the phone. Then he’d hung up.
For once, please let him show up on tie and act like a CEO. Just once. There’s too much riding on tonight. I raised my eyes to the ceiling, not even sure who I was asking. It seemed like it would take a miracle to get my father to do his job and not let me down.
I wandered across the room to the figure in a draping jewel-blue ball gown, the corset-like top revealing sharply slim shoulders, the sweeping updo of her dark hair showing a long, elegant neck. She sat at one of the large round tables and swiped through her phone like businesses and individuals alike hadn’t paid $50,000 for just one.
Angela put down her phone as I dropped into the seat beside hers—I didn’t even know which table we were sitting at tonight, come to think of it. This one was as good as any until the guests began to arrive.
Angela looked up at me, her gaze wandering across my face for a moment. “Come on. Turn around.”
I did as she asked, grateful when she began massaging my shoulders.
“Everything will turn out fine. You know that, right? You’ve worked too hard for anything to go wrong.”
“Except the one thing that can go wrong I can’t control.” I sighed, closing my eyes as she worked at a particularly tough knot near my shoulder blade.
“Whether he shows up or not, things will be fine. You don’t need him. Remember—you’ve done this all without his help.” Her words were murmured close to my ear so no one else could hear.
“If only everyone else saw it that way.” I let out an involuntary groan as she hit a painful spot and dug her fingers into it to push it out.
“Everyone does see it that way, and you’ll prove it to them without a doubt tonight.”
A small smile pulled at my mouth. I still felt tight and on edge, but I appreciated the support. “Thanks, Angela.”
“Of course.” The words were a breath across the skin of my neck, and then her lips replaced the words as her fingers curled into my biceps. “Maybe you want to go somewhere? Let off some steam?”
I pulled away from her kisses. “Thanks for the offer, Angela, but maybe later.”
“Come on.” She pressed herself into me over the back of the chair, and she kissed my neck another time. “It’ll help you relax.”
“I really have to focus,” I said gently, taking her hands away from my shoulders as I turned in my chair to face her.
Again, the dark eyes watched me for a long moment. Then Angela turned away, shrugging. “All right. Whatever you want.”
She turned back around in her seat and picked up her phone, her attention on the screen again. I almost gave in, just to have her gaze back on me. But no—what I’d said was true. I had to focus and had no time for what she wanted.
