Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Understanding washes over me. “It looks like I was plotting behind your back because I was here with Elijah when you just said you wouldn’t do the deal.”
“Exactly.”
“I was not plotting against you, Reid. Have you listened to your messages?”
“I’ve been with our stockholder.”
“And of course, you assumed the worst of me. Your phone transcribed my messages. Read them now.”
“I’ll read them when we’re out of here.”
“Of course you will. What do you want to do?”
“We’re going to walk out there and say goodbye to both of them and then leave together.” He leans in near my ear. “And then we’re going to talk.”
My anger flares hot again. “Oh yes,” I assure him. “We’re definitely going to talk.”
“You will tell them both—”
“I know what to say. You made that clear last night.”
“And yet, you’re here,” he reminds me.
“Listen to your messages, asshole.” I turn for the door and he catches me from behind, his big body pressed close to mine, his lips at my ear. My body is now as hot as my anger, and he warns, “Do not let them see your anger.”
“I’ll save it for you.”
“Good,” he says. “If you can get past mine.” He releases me, and I start walking.
Chapter twenty-three
Carrie
Reid and I clear the hallway and he steps to my side, his hand catching my elbow, heat radiating up my arm with the touch. “This way,” he orders, the words low, but hard.
We round the bar and bring Nicholas Miller into view, a man I’ve met briefly through my father. He stands to greet us, his thick hair gray, his suit expensive, and his attention on me. “So good to see you, Carrie,” he greets, offering me his hand.
“Good to see you too,” I say. “And to deliver an update. As I’m sure you noticed, I was meeting with Elijah Woodson, doing my due diligence as Reid requested.”
“Yes,” he says, glancing at Reid. “Due diligence.” He looks at me again. “How did that go?”
“As Reid warned. Not well. He’s luring us in with money, but he has his eyes on a high-risk pet project that I suspect our competitors already passed on. Frankly, I doubt we would see any money but that which he’s allocated for the high-risk project.”
“This is disappointing,” he says. “I met with Elijah and he talked about a couple of high-rise Asia-based projects.”
“High-rise Asia-based projects are high-risk,” I say. “Believe me. You have to have every duck lined up, and not a feather missing, to ensure you don’t lose your ass to regulations, laws, and currency issues.”
“And yet Elijah is willing to take the risk.”
“Elijah only loses his money,” I reply. “We lose the money of those we convince to jump on board and invest, as well as our own money, and that of the stockholders. In the end, a failure would leave Elijah looking like a victim of our mishandling.”
“And since I have bad blood with Elijah,” Reid interjects, “he could spin his loss as some sort of personal punch from me, which damages my company and family as well. Frankly, I wouldn’t put it past him to pull out at the last minute and cause a default of the project that he’d pin on me.”
Nicholas arches a brow. “He hates you that much?”
“He does.”
“Even if there wasn’t something personal involved,” I add. “I’d never recommend we take this kind of risk while recovering from two bad hits. Not unless we’re trying to sink the ship. That’s my two cents, but I’ll leave you two to talk this out. I need to go finish up with Elijah.”
“Will this be presented to the board?” he asks.
“No,” Reid says. “An opportunity to go bankrupt will not be presented to the board.”
I try to step away and Reid catches my arm. “I’ll go with you. Goodnight, Nicholas.”
“Are you sure walking away from Elijah isn’t personal?” Nicholas asks.
“Money is always personal,” Reid says. “I don’t plan to lose mine. If you’d like to pitch losing yours to the board, feel free to formally request a meeting. Goodnight,” he repeats and turns us away from the table we never even sat down at.
“Why did he just ask if it’s personal?” I ask, softly. “You told him it was personal.”
“Elijah told him. He met with him before I arrived and told him we have bad blood in a play to get me unseated.”
“He really hates you.”
“Yes. He does.”
“And you thought I was a part of all of this,” I say. “So much for trust.”
“We’re going to talk trust tonight.”
I don’t have the opportunity to reply. We step to the edge of the table where Elijah waits on me. He stands and his focus is on Reid.
“Reid,” he states, and it’s not a greeting but rather disdain on his tongue.
“Revenge is not a game that you want to play with me or Carrie. Consider this a warning. Your only warning.” With that he snags my elbow again, turning me toward the door, my mind reeling. What went down between these two? We exit the restaurant and cross the lobby of the building, and I open my mouth to ask questions right as Reid softly warns, “Whatever you’re about to say. Save it for when we’re alone.”