Million Dollar Devil (Million Dollar #1)(82)

It hits me out of nowhere. I swallow.

“I’m in love with him,” I whisper.

He rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “You think he loves you? You’re out of your mind. That thing that you found—I hesitate to call him a man—will use you for your money.”

His words themselves don’t hurt me. “It doesn’t matter,” I murmur. “He doesn’t love me. We’re over.”

He studies me for a long, long time. “Lizzy. You have everything. That man can offer you absolutely nothing. Why would you want to—”

“Because I do, Dad!” I scream at him. “That should be enough! I’m your daughter, but I’m not you! What I feel and want and like . . . why is that never enough for you? Why do I always have to want what you want, even if it’ll make me miserable? Why?”

I start to sob into my hands.

My father looks at LB. “Leave us.”

“But—”

“We’ll discuss that later.”

I hear him stand, and a moment later, the door clicks closed.

When I look up, he’s studying me. “Tell me what you want, Lizzy.”

“I want you to see that I’m trying. That maybe my thoughts aren’t the same as yours, but they’re still valid. Maybe I’m not the best in this business, but I love it more than anyone. And everything I’ve done has been for you, and for the company. I didn’t want to pull James from a sewer. I did it because every other guy on the list turned me down, and I wanted to make you proud of me. That’s all.”

I’m sobbing so hard I can’t see straight.

There’s a long pause. Suddenly, my father booms, “No. I mean . . . what do you want when it comes to this man? This James.”

I blink. “It doesn’t matter. He’s been practically ignoring me since we got back from LA. Whenever I see him, he—”

“For god’s sake, Lizzy. He’s doing that because I threatened him.”

I freeze. “What?”

“I told him that if he came near you again, I’d nail his ass to the wall. He said he didn’t care what happened to him. He just wanted to make sure that if anything went wrong, you wouldn’t be held responsible for it.”

My mouth hangs open. “He . . . did?”

He stands, pushes away from the desk, and comes around to sit on the edge of it.

He hands me a piece of paper.

I look up at it, blinking through my tears. It’s a check. For $500,000. Made out to James Rowan.

“What is this . . . ?” I begin. Money to get him away from me?

“That’s how much you promised him, yes? To fulfill the contract?”

I nod. “But—”

“Do you think he would be interested in signing on with us for the next, say, three years?”

I blink. “What?”

“LB just brought in the latest figures from the weekend. Turns out that sales of Banks Limited are surging. No such thing as bad publicity, I guess. People don’t want James Bond; they want the possibility of turning an ordinary man into something extraordinary. He’s quadrupled our sales projections for the year already.”

I gape.

“Part of this business is knowing when to take risks. You took a huge risk, which I never would have done. And it paid off.”

I blink at the check and then look up at him. I can’t speak.

“And yes, you have your own mind, and I’m glad that you’re not afraid to use it. I can’t say the same for anyone else in this company,” he says, glancing at me in silence. “I’m proud of you, Lizzy. You did this.”

He lifts me into his arms and pulls me in for a stiff, awkward hug.

But it’s a hug.

My father is hugging me. For the first time since . . . when? I can’t even remember.

“But—”

“I can’t say I approve of James. But at least he had the balls to show up. And that? I respect that. A hell of a lot.”

I pull away from him, shaking, my eyes wide. “Dad?” Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

He nods and motions me to the door. “Now, get the hell out of here. I’ve got work to do.”

I walk outside, my head swimming. No, it isn’t a giant glowing Harold Banks seal of approval, but I don’t think that exists.

And James just got the closest thing I’ve ever seen.

James

I clap my hands in front of the camera as Charlie starts to film. “All right. What I’ve been dared to do today by viewer sickkid09 is to stand on the bed of this truck here as the driver plows me straight into this wall of light tubes at thirty miles per hour.” I affix the goggles over my eyes and the helmet on top of my head. “That’ll get me what, Charlie? Five hundred?”

Charlie nods.

“Five hundred. Easy money. Let’s go.”

We’re in the middle of a deserted field south of Atlanta, and the sun’s starting to go down. The old fluorescent light tubes were free from the dump, but the wall frame took forever and a fucking day to assemble. I only have one take for this, and it isn’t the light tubes I have to worry about, though I’ll probably get some cuts from that. It’s falling off the bed of the truck that could really do me in.

I ruffle Charlie’s hair and take him to a safe distance where he can stand and point the camera. “Got it? Don’t move from this spot, no matter what. Okay?”