Chapter 3

He didn’t like it when his plans were altered. If he wasn’t upset now, it meant he had something else up his sleeve. Which meant I needed to keep my guard up. Unfortunately, Donovan also had patience. So despite my suspicions, I’d have to wait until he was prepared to move into the next phase of his plan to find out what he was hiding. I glanced over at Nate who shrugged again before catching the eye of a gentleman at the bar. “Excuse me,” he said, “I know that guy. I need to say hello.”

I gave him a wink because there was no telling how Nate knew him—whether it was from his past crazy illegal dealings or from his current wild sexual dealings. Either way, it probably made a good story, and one I’d like to hear. A good story that I wasn’t going to get to hear because I was stuck at the table with Donovan and whatever bullshit scenario he had worked up for me now. Before he could start in on another one of these brilliant schemes, I started a conversation of my own. “How long are you staying in town, Donovan?” “Haven’t decided yet. A few months. Longer, maybe. Cade’s handling Japan for now. Meanwhile, you’ve been complaining about needing some help up here. So here I am.” “Well.” This was awesome. Donovan and I hadn’t lived in the same city for years. Our parents owned King-Kincaid Financial, and we’d spent so much time together growing up, we were practically siblings. My only sister was a decade younger, so Donovan had been the one I’d bonded with most. Only four years older than me, he was the one who had mentored me through all my significant firsts. First time drinking, first time smoking, first time sneaking out to meet a girl, first time starting a company. “Glad to hear it. You should’ve told me sooner. Are you moving back into—” “I’ll wipe the loan,” he said, cutting me off. And there it was. The bit that would make my jaw drop. The offer that would make me sit up and listen. “The entire loan?” My heart was thumping in my chest now, and I could hear blood gushing in my ears. “The whole thing. Gone.” Gone. All of it. Whoosh. Just like that. What a fucking relief that would be. Donovan was the only one who knew that I hadn’t put all my own money into the company when we first started up. After nearly draining my inheritance from my grandmother, I’d borrowed the rest of the seed money from him, a sizable amount that I’d slowly been paying him back with the profits earned over our five years in business. I still owed him a million. It was quite an amount to just write off, even for him. The irony of it was that I had more than twenty times that in my trust fund. I could’ve wiped the loan out myself years ago. If I’d wanted to. Again, Donovan was the only one who knew why I chose not to borrow from that sizable fund. And so, since Reach had begun with Donovan and me—and since we had pledged the most start-up money—when he covered my portion, he also got the advantage. It was one of the reasons why the company always felt like it was more Donovan’s than mine. And it was a reason I often bent to his will, even when I’d rather not. “Why is this merger so important to you?” I asked, unsure what to make of this offer. It wasn’t like Donovan held the loan over me all the time. It wasn’t like he wasn’t generous. He would give me the shirt off his back if it was the last thing he owned. But he also knew about integrity, and he understood that I wanted to be a self-made man. And he respected that. I respected him for getting me.

So if this was that important to him, then I really needed to be listening. Because I would give Donovan the shirt off my back too. “Number one in Europe, Weston,” he said with a gleam in his eye. “We’ve only been open five years, and it would take a long time to get that title any other way. It’s been far more difficult than I’d hoped to crack that market the way we have here.” I always knew the guy was competitive, but this really took the cake. “And it’s just a fake marriage then? Just a sham?” Dammit. I couldn’t believe I was actually considering this. “A complete farce. You’d start right away, fake a whirlwind romance and engagement. Have the whole thing done in four, five months tops. But the benefits to Reach would last a lifetime. Think of it as your legacy, Weston.” I drummed my fingers on the tabletop. “This is fucking insane.” “You like insane,” he said, leaning in close, knowing exactly which words would push my buttons. How did he do this every time? He really was a mastermind. Able to wield the strings of all the puppets, controlling everyone, getting them to do his bidding. Not that I resented him for it. I admired him, truthfully. And there was that something in my life that was missing. Not that a fake wedding was going to fix it, but maybe the chance to contribute could make a difference. The chance to leave a legacy. And to be able to give something back to Donovan after all the things he’d given me—well, that was something I couldn’t take lightly. Plus the end of that loan. To be my own man. Finally. “Ah, fuck it. I got nothing better to do with my life. Let’s be number one in Europe.” Actually, that did have a pretty decent ring to it. The corner of his lip lifted. “You know how to talk dirty to me.” He reached into his pocket, where he’d deposited the ring back into its velvet box earlier, and handed it over before taking a long, satisfied sip of his drink. I dropped it inside my jacket. The small square shape felt like a lead weight against my chest. I wondered how heavy its contents were going to feel when it was on Elizabeth Dyson’s hand. Two I dropped my sunglasses and my Louis Vuitton purse on the table in the entryway of my mother’s condo and headed inside, searching for her. Since it was July and the sun was out, I knew exactly where I’d find her—on the deck outside the living room, sunning. “Mom,” I whined, bursting out onto the balcony. “Did you hear what Darrell’s done now?” I dropped the printout from my computer in her lap. Then I headed over to the table where Marie had set out lemonade and poured myself a glass, gulping it down in four huge swallows. I slammed the glass down on the table and turned back to face my mother. She sat stretched out on her lounge chair, her fingers bright with freshly applied nail polish. Marie was now working on her toes.