One Night with the Rebel Billionaire. Trish Wylie
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was the captain of the good ship Bryant. Good for him. Just a shame so many members of his crew were useless.
‘And you hire this lot or are they inherited?’
‘Some are inherited.’
Adam bet he could name them without Jake’s help. ‘So cut the dead weight.’
‘It’s not that simple.’
‘Never is.’
‘Some of them are shareholders.’
Well that explained that, then. Losing the majority hold on shares was Jake’s biggest threat. It was the reason Adam was there. He doubted Jake would have bothered looking for him otherwise. Especially if he knew the truth.
Jake stared calmly at him while Adam moved his head from shoulder to shoulder to ease imaginary tension in his neck. ‘What do you want to do, Adam?’
‘Are you going to give me options?’ Adam stopped what he was doing and looked his brother in the eye. ‘See me here with a nice little corner office, do you?’
‘No.’
‘Good. I’ve never spent a day of my life in an office, and I’m not starting now.’ It would be suffocating.
‘You’ll sell to me, then.’
‘Maybe.’ He laid his palms against the gleaming table and pushed his chair back, stretching his long legs out in front of him. ‘Where are you getting the money?’
When Jake studied him with suspicion Adam thought he’d overplayed the nonchalance card. So he leaned forwards, bending his knees so he had a place to rest his forearms. ‘It’d take time to liquidate enough assets and you’d need permission from the board for that—which you’re not going to get if anyone stands to make any money with a takeover bid. So where would it come from?’
Jake pursed his lips.
So Adam pushed off his knees into an upright position, ‘You either want me to have the full picture or you don’t.’
‘What difference does it make?’ Jake’s voice remained calm. ‘You don’t need to know where I get it any more than I need to know what you do with it.’
Fair point. Except he did want to know. If his little brother wasn’t going to tell him, then he’d find out on his own.
Adam glanced around the large room, taking in the changes since the days he’d been dragged along for the obligatory heir-to-the-kingdom tours. Instead of heavy oak and opressive panelling there were shining modern surfaces and spotlights immitating stars in a jet-black ceiling. He’d bet his father hadn’t initiated the changes, which made him wonder just how long Jake had held the reins. And how much of the conglomerate’s current problems were actually his doing…
‘Four years.’
Adam looked at Jake.
Who leaned back in his chair and formed a tent with his fingers. ‘I’ve been running it four years. That’s what you were wondering.’
Adam hid his surprise at the unexpected spark of insight. ‘You were young.’
‘I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?’
‘Everyone has a choice.’
‘Not if they give a damn, they don’t. Then they make decisions based on what matters. Or what should matter.’
Adam shook his head, exhaling a soft snort of derisive laughter as he pushed to his feet. ‘Don’t pretend to know what mattered or didn’t matter to me, Jake. You don’t know anything about me.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ Before Adam could reply Jake pushed to his feet, gathering files together as he continued, ‘You might not care about this company, Adam, but I do. So if you’re selling, let me know. If you want to learn more before you decide, then say so. The door has always been open.’
He looked Adam in the eye on his way past. ‘Whether you thought it was or not.’
Adam stood in the empty room for a while after Jake left. He’d been there one day—hell, not even that long—and already he felt as if the walls were closing in. Dropping his head back, he scowled at the ceiling; it was as if he’d stepped back in time and hadn’t learned a single thing in his twelve years away.
Turning on his heel, he dropped his chin—and met Roane’s gaze through the vertical blinds. She was standing still in the middle of the bustling hallway, watching him. Lit by the bright light streaming through the office windows, her skin glowed, her hair shone like ripe corn fields in summer sunshine—and wearing a red jacket she stood out in the sea of greys, blacks and charcoals like a beacon.
For a split second he almost smiled at her. But instead he frowned at the fact she might have seen even a hint of how he was feeling. He didn’t want anyone to see. It was a weakness. So with a silent mental shake he gathered himself together, stepping out through the doorway and striding confidently towards her, determined to pick up where they’d left off. But before he got to her a middle-aged man from the meeting stepped over.
‘Good to see you, Adam.’ His voice was laced with thinly veiled disrespect. ‘We thought you were dead.’
Adam was a step away from him when he stopped. He clenched his jaw. Talking a measured step backwards, he turned his face towards the man, his voice cold. ‘Sorry to disappoint.’ He looked him over. ‘Jeffries, right?’
The man swallowed hard. ‘That’s right.’
Adam nodded, slowly turning ninety degrees to tower over him. ‘Well…Jeffries…a word to the wise…’
He paled. ‘Y-yes?’
‘Ever treat me like a fool the way you did in that meeting again and you’ll wish I was dead.’ When he lifted his arm the man flinched, and Adam smiled inwardly as he swiped an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder before lowering his head to add, ‘Have a nice day.’
Roane blinked wide eyes at him as he walked by her, her voice choked. ‘Bye, Malcolm.’
‘Roane…’ Malcolm Jeffries was too busy scurrying away to pay much attention to her.
A quick glance over Adam’s shoulder told him she was following him to the elevators, so he punched the button and waited. When she got to his side Adam glanced sideways at her, ‘You got something to say, then spit it out.’
‘Nope. Nothing to say.’
‘Good.’
‘Except he probably deserved it,’ she said after a moment of silence. ‘Malcolm can be a bit of a jerk. Office lech too, from what the girls say. Wandering hands…’
Adam’s face jerked her way so fast he almost put his neck out. ‘He touched you?’
One arched brow rose as she rolled back onto her heels. ‘That would be your problem because?’
Damned if Adam knew. But it took a gargantuan effort not to turn round and go right back down the hall for another tête-à-tête. The elevator better get a move on. He glanced up at the numbers: forty-two, forty-three… It was the slowest elevator in New York.
‘Jake didn’t have a quiet word?’ Bitterness rolled off the tip of his tongue. But if he hadn’t, then he’d just dropped in Adam’s estimation.
‘Why would he—? Oh…’ When she faltered Adam turned to study her expression, the fact she wasn’t able to look him in the eye making him suspicious even before a hint of colour started to appear on her cheeks. ‘I didn’t say he touched me—I said the office girls mentioned it. It wouldn’t have been Jake’s problem even if he had. I can look after myself.’
Adam turned towards her, calmly folding his arms, ‘Anything else you want to set straight?’
She looked up at him, her luminous