End Game by Lisa Renee Jones
“Well, buckle up, sweetheart. You’ll get your distraction for sure. He’s up to something or he wouldn’t be at the office already. And while I contained myself yesterday with him because of Derek’s funeral, I won’t be doing so today.”
* * *
Thanks to another phone call by the same investor I’d spoken to earlier, it’s nearly eight, two hours after my father’s arrival at the office, when Emily and I exit the elevator and head to one place: my father’s office. For her, it’s to claim her desk outside his office. For me, it’s to ensure that he doesn’t get the chance to cause a problem I don’t need on the day we announce the sale to Mike. We enter the alcove that is my father’s private lobby, and his closed door is no obstacle to me. I walk straight to the door, and I don’t bother to knock. I walk right in.
My father looks up from a file he’s studying, an amused smirk on his lips, and tosses his pen down. “Glad you’re finally at work, son. I haven’t seen a copy of the press release on the sale to Mike, and I’ve made it clear to Jessica I need to see it before it’s distributed.”
I shut the door and walk to his desk. “Today’s your last day.”
His gray eyes sharpen. “I’m in remission.” He runs his hand over his bald scalp. “I didn’t lose my hair to lose my company. I’m not retiring, and we both know you don’t have anyone to take over my role.”
“I’m managing the existing projects and hiring an expert hedge funder to take over your role, one who won’t land us all in jail.”
“No one does what I do as well as I do it. And we both know you don’t need a distraction from high-heeled shoes and fancy dresses with the Brandon name on them. That is your plan, right? To turn us into some sort of beauty parlor of products?” I have no intention of being baited, and he must sense that in me, because he doesn’t wait for a reply, even spinning it as if I might offer one. “Don’t waste your breath defending your choice. I’m not going anywhere.”
“And when your cancer comes back? Who will take over for you then?”
“You will, Shane.”
“If you stay, I leave. And if I leave, I won’t come back.”
“But you will. Because you’ll inherit it, and it hardly seems logical for you to leave your vision behind and start over when I’m gone. I’m running the hedge fund division. I’ll allow you to play with your little fashion fantasies, undisturbed.”
“Leave it to your wife, as it should be,” I say. “If I inherit it, I’ll sell it off.”
He laughs. “No, you won’t. You’re invested in the company now, which, by the way, was my plan all along.”
I press my hands to the desk. “I’ll get the board to vote you out.”
“The deal you’re brokering for that sports center was my brainchild. No one is going to vote me out when I just made them a small fortune.”
“Let me be clear,” I bite out. “I still have full control of this company, and I didn’t save this division for you or because I felt it was a solid part of our operations.”
“The profits are clear,” he says. “It’s as solid as it gets.”
“It’s soiled with dirty money, which you’ve created. I saved it for Derek, not you. He’s gone, and now that I’m past the funeral, I’m clear-minded enough to know that we’re better off without it.” I push off the desk. “I’m delaying the announcement. You can sign an agreement to buy out this division by Monday at fair market value or I’ll sell it to Mike.” And because I need my mother to stop playing footsie with Mike Rogers, before I set Mike up with Adrian, I add, “And since you don’t seem to care about your wife, I assume he’ll have your pet project portion of the company at the office and your woman in his bed.”
“Mike won’t be fucking my wife again. And you won’t be fucking my company. An announcement of my departure on top of Derek’s death will create alarm among the clients, stockholders, and staff, which puts our stability at risk.”
“You’re worried about stability.” I give a humorless laugh. “That’s comical. I can handle any alarm created by your departure, I assure you.” I turn and walk toward the door.
“You’re really a prick off the old block,” he says, no doubt looking to hit a nerve, and while he succeeds, I don’t react.
“I’ll email you the new paperwork,” is all I say. I exit the office and shut him inside as Emily steps in front of me.
“Well?” she asks anxiously. “How did it go?”
“You don’t work for him anymore. Come with me.” I settle my hand at her lower back, guiding her forward, toward the lobby.
“I thought today I was with him?”
“You’re not,” I say. “And you will not ever take his abuse again.”
We reach the reception area, greeting Kelly before continuing on down the hallway leading to the alcove where my office and Derek’s are located. Once at the end of the walkway, I have the option of going left to my office, where a glance confirms that Jessica is sitting at her desk, but I go right, to Derek’s office. Guiding Emily to his closed door, I open it and motion her forward. She hesitates, looking uncomfortable, but she enters the office.
I follow her, shutting us inside, and while I’ve struggled to recall Derek’s face or voice, the faint smell of my brother’s cologne is here now. And that scent, his presence even in his death, takes me by surprise and punches me hard in the chest.
“What are we doing, Shane?” Emily asks, her hand on one of the visitor chairs, her long, brown hair a striking contrast to the pale pink of her dress. Her nervous energy is something I want to replace with excitement.
“This is your new office,” I tell her.
She blanches. “What? No. I can’t take his office.”
“You can. You will. You know that Derek wanted me to save the company my way, and my way is with your brainchild, our new fashion brand. There’s no better place to make that happen than here, in his presence. I’ve already signed the paperwork. The deal is done.”
“I knew you made the offer,” she says. “But it’s really, completely done?”
“It is,” I confirm. “We just need to make a cautious transition of power and smart financial choices. I’m going to email you some files and the contacts for the acquisition when I get to my office. Talk to the major players. Find the major players you want close to you, but do this your way.”
The phone on the desk buzzes. “Shane?”
“Yes, Jessica?” I say.
“I have at least three calls you need to take or make right now,” she says.
“I’ll be right there,” I reply, returning my focus to Emily. “Speaking of Jessica. I need her to stay focused on the big picture until I get past this transition period. Unless you really feel you need her now, I’d like to tell her about the ‘Jessica’ line of clothing and her stock options a few weeks out.”
“Of course,” she says, but her arms are still folded in front of her. I snag her waist and walk her to me.
“What’s bothering you?”
“His office,” she says, her hands settling on my chest. “I feel like he needs to be here, not me, but I know he can’t be here.”
“You’re here to do what he wanted. Save this company from my father, and there is no better place than here, in his office. Your office. Be excited, Emily. You have no idea how much I want that for you.”
“I am. Very. I’m also nervous. I have never handled a major acquisition like this before.”
“I’ll help you navigate it,” I say, “but at the same time, I want this to be yours. Just like the hedge fund operation was my father’s.”
“Was? So he’s officially retiring?”
“He’s officially out, just as the hedge fund operation will be soon. With a new day’s clarity, I’ve decided to dump it. I gave my father until Monday to make an offer or I’ll sell it to Mike.”
“In other words, it got really dirty in there and you want all ties to your father gone.”
“Yes. It got dirty. And yes, I want all ties
She smiles. “Yes, boss.”
“No. I’m not your boss. This is your baby.” My lips curve. “Unless we’re naked. Then I’m the boss.”
She rewards me with a soft, sexy laugh. “I think I want to be the boss.”
“Never happening,” I promise, walking to the door, but when my hand touches the knob, that scent of Derek is suddenly stronger again, and his lingering presence has me glancing toward his desk to the empty chair that now leaves part of my life empty as well. And yet, in ways, it’s fuller than it has ever been. Inhaling, I exit the office and shut Emily inside, heading toward Jessica’s desk.
She’s on her feet in an instant; her dress so red, it damn near glows, and she rounds her desk and is on my heels. By the time I’m behind my desk, she’s standing in front of me. “You’re glowing,” I say.
“I just got a facial,” she says. “So thank you, because it was really brutal.”
“I mean your dress.”
“Oh. Right. It’s a power statement. You’re the new king and I’m the king’s gatekeeper. Why is Emily in Derek’s office?”
“It’s her office now. We’ve officially bought the fashion brand we were eyeing and she’s going to run it. More on that later. Don’t ask now.”
Unfazed by that order, she simply says, “I’ll ask her,” and holds up a stack of messages. “The top three are related to the acquisition in progress and need your personal attention. The bottom three are random situations I’m capable of handling, but in each case, the parties involved are misinformed enough to believe that you’re better, smarter, and in possession of a bigger set of balls than me.”
“Convince them yours are big enough to handle what needs to be handled,” I say.
“Will do,” she says, setting three of the messages in front of me. “I just needed your thumbs-up, boss. Moving on to the announcement. Do you want to call members of the management before we send out the press release?”
“We’re holding on the announcement.”
“Which … means what exactly? What happened?”
“My father happened. Track down Mike Rogers for me. I need to talk to him. And before you start asking more questions, I’ll explain once I’ve put on the brakes with him.”
My phone buzzes and my father’s voice comes over the line. “Pick up,” he orders.
I motion for Jessica to leave and shut the door before I pick up the receiver. “I’m here.”
“There’s no need to cancel your announcement,” he says. “Consider this an offer.”
“At what price?”
“Ten million,” he says, “which turns this into profit for the board and I assume is acceptable.”
“It is,” I confirm. “When I have a formal offer, in writing, that is.”
“A letter of intent is in your email, but there are conditions.”
“Of course there are,” I say dryly.
“I have investors who need to be convinced that I’m alive and well. They need stability, which means I need my office to remain as is. I work here, as usual, and we make no formal announcement.”
As much as I want to decline, getting this done sheds liability and expedites pairing Mike with Martina sooner than later. “You show up once a week for appearances,” I state. “You can hold meetings here if needed and if scheduled in advance with Jessica. And you pay rent.”
“I work here twice a week and I have a conference room assigned to me that doesn’t require me coordinating with your bitch of a secretary.”
“Agreed,” I say. “You get twice a week and the conference room, but you’ll sign paperwork that designates you as a tenant, and our liability and involvement in your business at level zero.”
“Agreed,” he confirms. “Make your announcement and get me your paperwork.”
“We don’t tell Mike about this new development until after the announcement.”
“Agreed,” he says again, and hangs up.
I stare at the phone, processing how fast and easy that deal was to make with him. And then I laugh. The man’s a master manipulator. This is what he was after and I just gave it to him, which means he’s got a big money deal in the works. But what he doesn’t seem to understand is that I’m happy to give him his deal. I don’t want, or need, his dirty money.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Immediately after my call with my father, I email Emily the files I’ve promised her and then dial my contact at the fashion brand we’ve acquired. In a matter of minutes, I’ve conferenced in Emily, and not long afterward, I hand the communication and the reins over to her. I’ve barely ended the call when Jessica buzzes in. “A Jordan Miller is on the line,” she says. “He claims to be your father’s attorney.”
“Eager aren’t you, Father?” I murmur to myself before responding to Jessica. “Put him through.”
An hour later I’ve disconnected the call after a verbal brawl, and there is no question that only one day after my father buried his son, he’s back to his manipulative ways. My mind gravitates to my mother, who was a wreck yesterday and is now alone, perhaps seeking comfort she won’t find with my father. And the last thing I need right now, or ever, is her gravitating back to Mike Rogers when Mike is about to be in bed with Adrian Martina.
I reach for my phone and dial my mother, only to have the call go straight to voice mail. I bypass the message and dial Seth. “Where’s my mother right now?”
“I’m at Jessica’s desk,” he says.
“Come in,” I say, standing up and pressing my hands to my desk, waiting for his entry and answer.
“She’s not with Mike Rogers, if that’s what you think,” he says, stepping into my office and shutting the door. “She hasn’t left the house since last night.” He crosses to stand in front of my desk. “Is there a new concern about Mike I need to be aware of?”
I push off my desk, shoving my jacket aside to rest my hands on my hips. “My father assures me there isn’t, but as I near this deal that pairs Mike with Martina, I’m thinking through anything that could go wrong. And as sure as I free us from Martina, my mother could reconnect us.”
“It’s a reasonable concern,” Seth says, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I’ll make sure she’s terrified to go near Mike. Just say the word.”
“Your way of fixing things should not involve my mother,” I say. “I’ll handle it.”
“All right,” he concedes. “Does this mean we’re delaying any part of the process with Mike and Martina?”
“No,” I say. “It needs to happen and happen now, and I can’t talk to her before the deal is done and risk an emotional reaction. I need my mother intercepted if she goes anywhere near Mike from this point forward.”
There’s a knock on the door. “It’s Emily,” Jessica says over the intercom.
I glance at Seth. “She’s going to want an update. Is there anything I need to know and prepare her for?”
“Nothing,” he assures me, and I immediately instruct Jessica, “Tell her to come in.”
The door opens almost instantly, and Emily is inside, shutting it and leaning against it. “Is there news?” She looks to Seth. “Is that why you’re here?”
“I work here,” Seth reminds her. “And everything is as expected. Law enforcement is looking for your brother and stepfather, but the passports placing them out of the country have rendered them low priority, aside from notifying next of kin. We’ll give it a few days and then have one of our staff reach out to them as your brother and stepfather.”
“Wait a few days,” Emily repeats. “Meaning you want to ensure my brother doesn’t show up dead.”
It’s not a question, and Seth doesn’t sugarcoat his confirmation. “Your brother, and/or your stepfather,” Seth replies. “But don’t hold your breath waiting for your brother to show up. If he’s alive, and smart, he won’t take that risk.”
“And we’re stuck with
“But you’re dead to anyone who might come after you,” he says. “That’s the end game here.” He glances at his watch. “I have a meeting. One final note. Don’t Google your hometown or anything to do with your old identity. We’re dealing with hackers who can track things in ways you and I can’t fathom.” He doesn’t wait for our confirmation. “I’ll keep you updated.” He heads for the door and the intercom buzzes. “There’s a Becky Newman on the line for Emily.”
Emily eyes light up. “Tell her I’ll be right there,” she says, the worry of moments before banked, at least for now. “She’s done work for Louis Vuitton, Shane. I really want her for our team.” She turns and follows Seth out of the office, shutting the door behind her. She’s distracted now, and that’s her sanity. The end game will be mine. I pick up the phone and dial Mike, ready to get that announcement underway.
* * *
By late afternoon it’s done. Mike not only owns the pharmaceutical branch, the news has gone wide, and questions and random challenges erupt. Ultimately, though, the storm passes internally, and the media is far more interested in Mike’s status as the owner of a pharmaceutical company and professional basketball team than they are in us. By nine P.M., I’m confident that we’ve assured tomorrow will be calmer, and I send Jessica home.
Ready to get Emily out of here and home as well, I head for the open door of her office, where I find her standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows framing the room, her back to me. Her floral scent teases my nostrils, mingling with the lingering, barely there spice of my brother’s cologne, which proves to be a bittersweet mix of past and present, lost and found. Much like what Emily must feel about a past she’s leaving behind for a future she didn’t choose but now embraces. Understanding this all too well, I close the space between us, stepping to her side, but I do not speak, nor does she.
For a full minute we both just stand there, staring at the skyline, lights dotting the inky Colorado night, quiet surrounding us, but I can almost hear her thinking, even before she explodes, facing me. “It’s really hard loving and hating him this much.”