Wrong Brother, Right Man. Kat Cantrell
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be nearly punishment enough for forcing him to switch places with his twin brother.
LeBlanc peddled diamonds for God’s sake—the most useless of all possessions on the planet—hawking propaganda that coerced men into spending thousands of dollars on a rock for their lady that would eventually be worth a quarter of what they’d paid for the piece. Not that it would matter overmuch in the divorce settlement.
“The nightmare is all mine,” Xavier corrected.
“Please. You got the easy task.” Val ran a hand through his longish hair, as he willed a brewing headache into submission. “I have to increase the profits of a company I’ve scarcely set foot in. If pushing LeBlanc over the billion-dollar mark in revenue for the calendar year was simple, you’d have done it already.”
His brother’s near-identical features mirrored none of the indignation that Val felt. Of course not. Xavier had never met an emotion he could tolerate, showing the same arrogant, coldhearted behavior as their father. No mystery why Xavier had been the favorite.
“Definitely not simple.” Xavier steepled his fingers, every inch the corporate stooge he’d been groomed to be. “But doable. If I were the one doing it. Instead of being given that chance, I’ve been banished into the bowels of LBC.”
LBC was Val’s, which automatically gave it less importance in his brother’s eyes. LeBlanc Charities had a noble purpose, and Val had poured his heart and soul into it since the age of fourteen. That was when he’d followed his mother through the doors of the nonprofit organization she’d founded.
Val snorted and didn’t bother to cover the flash of annoyance. “You act like your test is a punishment. LBC is an amazing place, full of dedicated people who work as a team to change the world. You’ll emerge a better person from your stint there.”
Val, on the other hand, was being set up to fail. Deliberately.
The hot spurt of injustice wouldn’t ease. Death had only been another step in Edward LeBlanc’s diabolical need to ensure Val understood that he was not the favored son. If he and Xavier weren’t twins, he’d wonder if he had even a drop of LeBlanc blood running through his veins.
But he’d counted on his inheritance to bolster the flagging donations at LBC. People were starving on the streets of Chicago, and Val was doing his part to feed them, one meal at a time.
Having a basic need met allowed people to feel more secure in their future. Val would never abandon those he helped.
He needed that money. The people he served needed that money. The things he could do with half a billion dollars—it was mind-boggling. Val had already poured a lot of his own personal fortune into the coffers, but LBC was a large organization that required a dizzying amount of overhead. More than seemed appropriate most days, given that it took away from money being funneled into food supplies.
And Xavier was going to be the conquering hero as he did Val’s job.
“At least you have a shot at passing your test.” Xavier sneered. “Raising profits over the billion mark at LeBlanc within six months was already in my plan. I have those dominoes set up. All you have to do is push them over. But I have to become a fundraiser.”
He said the word with distaste. Likely because he had no clue what it meant to be selfless, to spend time in pursuit of something honorable as you sacrificed your time, day in and day out, to better someone else’s life.
“Should be a piece of cake for someone with your connections.” Val flicked his fingers. “Ten million in six months is essential. So it’s not a lark that you can do or not do if you don’t feel like it. The organization will collapse if you fail. It hardly matters if I pour more money into LeBlanc’s coffers, but people depend on LBC for survival.”
Val gave his money gladly. LBC didn’t depend on it to stay afloat, but he believed in his cause and in setting an example.
Glowering at Val’s casual dismissal of his responsibilities, Xavier tapped an expensive pen against his laptop. “If LBC is in such dire straits, Dad should have allowed me to write a check. But no. He specified in the will that I have to raise the money through donations as some kind of character building exercise. It’s ludicrous.”
On that, they agreed. But not much else.
Before Val could blast apart Xavier’s assessment of LBC’s current state—which was not dire—Mrs. Bryce stuck her head into the office, glancing between the two of them with eyebrows raised. “Your one o’clock is here, Mr. LeBlanc.”
“Thank you,” Val said at the same time as Xavier, who stared at him balefully as he processed that he’d already lost his admin to the new CEO.
“You have a one o’clock?” his brother asked and shook his head with bemusement. “Would you like my suit too?”
That straitjacket? Not even if it came with a hot redhead inside it. “That’s okay. I’ll take your chair. I have an interview.”
No time like the present to get this crap-storm of a party started.
Xavier stood and then turned a shade of green that looked horrific. Which meant Sabrina had walked into his office. Excellent. Too bad Val had forgotten his popcorn.
Sabrina Corbin swept into the CEO’s office as if she owned it, her cool smile dropping the temperature faster than an arctic front. Holy hell. Tactical error. She was far more beautiful than Val remembered and far frostier. Xavier needed to go, stat.
“I believe you two know each other?” Val flipped a hand at Xavier’s ex as he skirted the desk to sink into the newly vacated seat. He locked eyes with the woman he’d only met once but desperately needed.
Sabrina had insight into the mind of LeBlanc’s CEO. Who better to assist Val into a checkmark for his task than an executive coach Xavier had dated?
Suddenly, he really wanted to know what had happened between them. And how he could do better than his brother. It was a complication he hadn’t seen coming, but there it was. He wanted Sabrina to choose him over Xavier, especially since Xavier had had her first.
“Sabrina.” Xavier’s expression smoothed out, magically eliminating a good bit of the tension. “Nice to see you. I was just leaving.”
With his brother’s exit, the rest of the tension should have gone with him. It didn’t. Sabrina turned in Val’s direction, and he resisted the urge to check under his seat for icicles.
“Shall I call you Valentino or Mr. LeBlanc?” she inquired as she slid gracefully into the spot Val had just vacated, crossing a mile of leg under the pencil skirt she wore like a second skin.
Even her stilettos looked like she kept them in the freezer. What would it take to warm her up? Instantly, his body got in on that action, every nerve poised to figure that out. Did she like slow and romantic? Fast and blistering hot? Both, spread out over a long weekend?
“You should definitely call me Valentino but not under these circumstances,” he told her with a lazy smile.
Sabrina lifted a brow. “Mr. LeBlanc then.”
Ouch. His grin widened. That had Interesting Challenge written all over it, and he did enjoy besting his brother or he wouldn’t have contacted Sabrina in the first place. “Thanks for coming by on short notice. You up for the job?”
“My last client succeeded in her goals three months before our deadline. If your check clears, I’m up for whatever you throw at me.”
Well, now. That perked Val up considerably. “Like I told you in the email, I have to run this joint for six months. I’m not corporate in the first place, but the terms of my father’s will say I have to move the needle from 921 million to a billion dollars in revenue by the end of the fourth quarter. I need you to be my ace in the hole.”
To her credit, she didn’t blink at the sums of money being thrown around. “You have to raise profits eight percent in six