Pleasure Payback. Zara Cox
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company is in the middle of a delicate negotiation—’
‘The Russian stadium deal,’ I said. As a top executive, I received regular memos on all high-level deals.
‘Yes. And I have my hands full dealing with some of your more pig-headed relatives on the board, not to mention attempting to manage Gideon.’
Hearing his name tightened the band around my chest. ‘Why does he need managing?’ I asked with more than a little snap. The Gideon I knew could manage the family company I’d been meant to co-head with him in his sleep.
Aunt Flo hesitated, making me grit my teeth. ‘What’s going on, Flo?’
‘Your cousin is suffering a bit of a...regression.’
‘In what way?’
‘In all the bad ways. When he’s not working himself into the ground, he’s partying too much at that private club of his. He’s been spiralling for months. It’s only a matter of time before he completely unravels. The family’s meeting this week to decide—’
‘You better not be thinking of ousting him,’ I butted in icily. ‘Not after everything he’s done for the company.’
‘He won’t be if I have anything to do with it. He’ll hate me for telling you this but I know you’re just as iron-willed as he and liable to do something rash, so this is just to give you context.’
Bitter laughter barked out of me. ‘Rash? I listened when you said relocating to the States was what was best for all. But enough is enough. It’s been three years.’
‘I know it’s been hard for you, son.’
She didn’t know the half of it and I wasn’t sure I was ready to tell her the true extent of what Penny had done. Hell, I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that she’d drugged me. That deep suspicion now dictated I checked and rechecked every drink I took in public like some paranoid fucker. ‘Good, then you should know I’m wrapping things up here and I’m coming home in the next few weeks with or without this thing being resolved. I’d prefer the former but it won’t stop me either way.’
‘What did I do to deserve the number of grey hairs you two are dishing out to me?’
A reluctant smile broke through my frustration. ‘I have it on good authority that you have an excellent colourist in Sloane Square.’
‘He’s earned his money in the last few months, that’s for sure,’ she quipped, then sighed again. ‘Gideon is preoccupied with this Russian deal. You occupy yourself with wrapping up your life in America. Leave everything else to me.’
‘For now, Aunt Flo. Understand that I won’t let this be for ever.’ I ended the call nowhere near satisfied by the outcome.
Waves of frustration, anger and guilt rolled over me, followed closely by the yawning pit of despair and shame that inevitably arrived with it. The black hole of unanswered questions didn’t erode the reality that I’d let myself down in the most spectacular way.
Two drinks that had turned into three, then four.
Then...total blackout.
Somewhere along the line that night, I’d let my guard down and trusted Penny Winston-Jones, Gideon’s ex-fiancée.
Only she hadn’t been his ex...
And in so doing had betrayed the one person who meant the most to me.
I gripped my phone tighter, the urge to go against Aunt Flo’s advice pummelling me. Only the reminder that she’d been there for me when my own parents abandoned me stopped me.
She would probably forgive me eventually if I went against her advice but could I afford to add another black mark against me?
I slid my phone back into my pocket just as Rachel, my executive assistant, knocked and entered.
‘Your next appointment is here, sir,’ she announced.
As the primary representative for The Mortimer Group, I’d freed myself from the everyday constraints of a single role to explore deals that would suit the family company. It was meant to be a temporary deviation from my usual role as President of Global Expansion so Jasper, my younger brother, could learn the ropes. The grand plan had been to eventually co-CEO the entire Mortimer Group with Gideon.
In the aftermath of Penny’s treachery, that idea had crashed and burned along with our relationship, resulting in this self-imposed, godforsaken exile. One I intended to end ASAP now my investigators had presented me with the near certain facts of what had happened to me that night.
Briefly, I toyed with cancelling the meeting, calling fuck it to the whole day and burning rubber out of Manhattan. I could head to the Hamptons, grab my surfboard and pound the waves until I was too tired to think. Or I could jump on my plane, head to Colorado, pick a mountain and climb it.
I rejected both ideas. Years of trying had shown the futility of attempting to outrun my demons. Staying right here, pursuing The Mortimer Group’s best interest, would at least bring a modicum of satisfaction.
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