Over the Edge (Bridge #3)(53)
“Is he touting this love shit too?”
“He cares about her. We both do.”
He leaned his head back and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “This is so f*cked.”
“If you step back and look at what’s happening right now, the only people who are upset are you and Cameron. Will, and Liv, and I…we’re fine, outside of dealing with your goddamn death threats and judgment. But before all this blew up at the ribbon-cutting, we were fine. So stop and ask yourself if it’s worth jeopardizing her happiness.”
“You’re not going to talk me into thinking this is good for her.”
“Putting her through hell over this isn’t good for her. You’re one of my best friends. I don’t want to lose that, but right now, her happiness comes first.”
“If you’re making a campaign to get my blessing, give it up. I’m never going to support this.” He sliced his hand sideways through the air.
I sighed, feeling more defeated with each passing minute. “Whatever. But don’t make her miserable over it. Hate me. Hate that I’m with her. But think about what all the anger is doing to her. She doesn’t deserve to bear the brunt of your judgments. She’s a good person, and she’s got a good heart. She’s figuring shit out, same way all of us are. If you care so damn much, cut her some slack. Let her live her own goddamn life.”
Those last words seemed to render him silent. He simply shook his head and left me alone. At least we hadn’t come to blows again, which I counted as a small victory.
I breathed a sigh of relief, even knowing my friendship with Darren was forever changed. I hoped to hell that Liv was worth it…that she wouldn’t give up on us.
I took my phone out and contemplated calling her. She’d asked for space. I had to give it to her. I couldn’t be another person barking at her, trying to tug at her when she wasn’t ready. I wanted her to know I was still here, though. Waiting for her to be ready.
I pulled up my texts and attached the photo of the sunset with a message.
I: Sky made a beautiful canvas tonight. Made me think of you. Haven’t been able to think about much else.
A minute later a reply came back.
L: It’s beautiful, thank you. I’m thinking about you too.
I hesitated with what to say next. I didn’t want to push her, but the smallest communication made me want more.
I: I want to see you. When you’re ready…
L: Soon. Be safe tonight.
I released a frustrated sigh. If she only knew… The dangers of the city and this job had nothing on the damage she could inflict on me right now.
Chapter Fourteen
WILL
David Reilly strolled into the office. Dressed in a suit that cost more than most people made in a month, he exuded the kind of confidence that threatened a lot of people on Wall Street. He didn’t affect me that way. I registered little more than disgust as he approached but knew I had to keep it to myself if I was going to get through this meeting.
I rose from my father’s desk and greeted Reilly with a firm handshake. “Let’s talk in the conference room.”
“Sure.”
His tone was clipped, and I wondered if he’d already gotten wind of my intentions. Only my father could have warned him, and I’m not sure he would have the balls to throw hindrances in my way after everything I was sacrificing.
Either way, this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. I grabbed some papers from my office and followed him into the private room, shutting the door behind us. Outside of my father’s assistant, Adriana, we were alone in the office, but I didn’t trust anyone with ears around this negotiation.
Reilly had chosen the seat at the head of the table—a clever move to assert his waning power in the company. Too bad I’d be the new CEO in a few minutes. I took the adjacent chair and pushed a few loose papers in front of him.
“As discussed, these are the documents to register the updated corporate filings listing me as the new CEO. They’re fairly straightforward, but feel free to have your attorney review.”
He picked the papers up, scanning the routine language that would strip him from his position. “Looks like everything is in order.”
I pushed a pen toward him, which he used to scribble his signature on the appropriate lines. He dropped it back on the table and looked up at me, folding his hands in his lap.
“So how are things going?”
I tilted my head. “I have my work cut out for me. The investors aren’t too happy.”
“I understand.” His voice was totally detached, as if he’d had no part in creating the challenges I now faced.
“I’m not sure that you do.” I leaned back in my chair and traced the sharp lacquered edge of the table. “I have a lot of trust to earn back. No one wants to invest with a company tainted by partners accused of fraud.”
His lips pulled back into a dark grin. “Allegations. Nothing’s been proven.”
“The indictment going public means you’re guilty. Because if you get off, it’s because you’re a white-collar criminal and the judge feels sorry for you, not because anyone believes you’re innocent.”
“What are you getting at?”