She grabs one and pops the top. “Should I pour you guys some scotch?”
“No. This isn’t the time for drinking,” I say.
Nick raises an eyebrow. “She knows about the scotch in your bottom drawer now?”
“I don’t make it a habit,” I say with a shrug. “Yesterday was brutal, and it’s not like you had to be the one to write the memo to the whole company.”
He nods. “Any chance you want to be the one to tell Grandma the deal’s toast?”
Damn, maybe it is time to start day drinking.
“There isn’t anything to tell, Nick. We have a tentative acceptance. No signature before all hell broke loose. He asked for a grace period, and he’ll get it.”
Nick sits up taller, finger-raking his hair. “He didn’t sound sold. You really think he’ll actually commit in a few weeks?”
“Right now? No, but it buys us time to figure something out.”
“I really don’t get his concerns. We’re the same people doing the same work we were when he agreed to it. Grandma’s drafts are done, just minor adjustments left. What does he want?”
“He wants us to be seventy, straitlaced, and English,” I say. “Or at least a world-renowned artist like Grandma.”
“On second thought...” Nick gives me a wolfish grin. “Ward, you are straitlaced. You act ninety. You should just start faking an English accent and coming into the office looking like a candy cane.”
He’s only exaggerating a little. Last year at this charity gala, Winthrope showed up in red-and-white pinstripes.
“Thanks, ass. You threw in every punch except for my broken—” I cut myself off.
“Maria? That was two years ago, man...and the tabloids forgot.” Nick leans against the wall. “Osprey and his muckrakers barely touched you. Nothing like me and Carmen Seraphina. He dragged me over the coals for a month.”
“Enough,” I bite off.
I shudder at every mention of that hideous man. Roland Osprey is a media assassin, the mortal enemy of everyone rich and famous, especially here at home in Chicago. The Chicago Tea is a fucking flamethrower of a publication, leaving scorched earth in its wake.
“We’re still paying for our parents’ sins,” I say, the words so numb. “And our own.”
I wish it weren’t true, but I’m old enough to know better.
The Brandt curse will never end, not since that incident on the yacht with the trash we called parents and Dylan damned Parnell.
“It was so long ago—” Nick starts.
I shrug.
“Things come back to haunt you, even if you don’t deserve it.”
“How can it keep coming back? I wasn’t even involved with it, and neither were you,” Nick says with disgust.
I want to laugh in sympathy, but this situation is so intense I just can’t.
“Believe me, brother, I understand.”
Paige sits pale and quiet, watching our exchange. For her sake, I hope she has no idea what we’re talking about. She hugs herself.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She looks at me, twisting her lips. “Can I ask a question?”
“Sure.”
“Morale is already so low—” she begins.
“And this won’t make it better,” Nick adds.
“Do you think people will quit?” Paige stares at me sadly.
Hell, I hope not. The panic on her face is obvious.
She’s afraid she won’t be able to handle it if more positions go vacant, if we lose the Winthrope contract, and wind up rudderless, running on Grandma’s glory fumes.
Frankly, I don’t even know if I can handle it, and I technically own half the company now.
There has to be something we can do. We have to stop the bleeding.
“We’ll get through this, or die trying. There’s no other choice, and no point in dwelling on what might happen,” I growl.
They look at me, scared but reassured.
I fake stoic calmness well.
If the company fails, maybe I can try for an acting career.
Nick sits on the floor, ignoring the other empty chair.
“Nicholas Brandt, stand up right now,” I say.
“Huh? What’s your problem?”
“We’re already on the brink of losing a very important contract for this company and for our family, because people like Winthrope still see us as the ‘Brandt Boys.’” I put finger quotes around that stupid name. “You look like a frat boy sitting on the carpet. Start acting your age. If we want to run this company like Grandma, we need to stop panicking and shape up.”