Page 3 of My Three Rivals

Easier said than done when everything is literally falling apart around me,I mused, unlocking Lola and slipping into the driver’s seat. The interior was stifling, and I dropped my purse onto the passenger side, key in the ignition to roll down the windows.

But the car refused to turn over.

I tried two more times and gave up, a desperate laugh escaping my lips as I dropped my forehead against the steering wheel and banged it twice.

What else, universe? What other shit do you want to throw at me now?

CHAPTER2

Atticus

Istared at my business partners covertly, an eye half on the stock app on my phone. Wyatt drummed his fingers on the pristine boardroom table, his angular jaw twitching inward and outward, making him seem like a puppet on the brink of an explosion. His dark eyes seemed bottomless, restless pits, but he always looked this way before a meeting of this caliber—not that he was normally less fierce, day-to-day. With his sable-colored hair to match those deep, russet irises, he seemed the oldest of us, not the youngest at twenty-nine.

He’s pumping himself up,I mused, unsurprised. My gaze flipped toward the man sitting on his left, at the far end of the table.

In stark contrast from every angle, Maverick appeared the surfer boy with his blond hair and vivid blue eyes. A small smile toyed on his lips as he stared at his phone. But even from where I sat, two seats away, I could see he wasn’t paying attention to anything on the screen. Unlike Wyatt, he was composed and calm—almost like he wasn’t there at all. I cleared my throat purposefully, and Maverick immediately looked at me, grinning sheepishly and confirming my suspicions.

“What?” he asked innocently.

“You know what? I need you on your A-game, not thinking about last night’s pussy.”

Maverick snickered as our lawyer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, casting me a reproving look, but I ignored Garrity and kept my focus on my business partner. The attorney had certainly heard worse.

“Don’t be bitter,” Maverick cooed at me. “Just because I’m getting some and you’re not.”

This time, it was Garrity who cleared his throat, throwing us all scathing looks.

“Why are you glaring at me, old man? I didn’t say anything,” Wyatt growled, folding his arms under his chest defiantly.

Garrity ignored the question. “Please remember why you’re here,” he told them sternly, splaying his manicured hands over the table, his cufflinks catching under the warm lighting. “Try to keep this professional.”

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” Wyatt answered for all of us, echoing my inner thoughts. “Shit, I don’t even know why all three of us had to be here. Couldn’t we have done a Zoom or something?”

“The poor, old woman probably doesn’t even own a computer, Wyatt. Have a little compassion,” Maverick quipped. “We’ll be in and out after we meet with Mrs. Tegan Pickett.”

“You need to be here in case there’s paperwork to be signed,” Garrity informed us with a sigh, his Australian accent floating closer to the surface as he chided us. “Come on, mates. You know the drill.”

“Wyatt’s hungover,” I apologized. “The overpowering stench of Gucci is only feeding his nausea. Why don’t you get him a hair-of-the-dog and spare us all the grief of listening to him piss and moan today?”

“Fuck you, Atticus,” Wyatt muttered, but he smirked to show me that he wasn’t serious.

But I wasn’t wrong about his hangover. I was sure the idea of discussing a vineyard was the last thing he wanted to do that day. I’d ensure the “negotiations” were short and sweet, as I always did. Maverick was right—we would be in and out of here in record time.

Skillfully, Garrity changed the subject.

“Have you discussed your intentions with the land once you’ve acquired it?” Garrity asked.

I’d long ago forgotten if that was his first or last name because I couldn’t remember if the Melbourne-reared attorney had any other name. He’d always just been “Garrity” to us.

He peered at me inquisitively, and I smiled internally.

He was asking me, I realized. He still saw me as the head of Suncrop. Not that I blame him.

“We have some ideas,” I started to say.

Maverick quickly interjected, “You mean,ifwe acquire the land.”

My moment of elation at being regarded as the leader evaporated, a scowl overtaking my features. “What the hell kind of attitude is that?” I barked at Maverick. “Of course we’ll get it.”

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