The Angels' Share (The Bourbon Kings #2) - J. R. Ward Page 0,55
is what it is.”
“Fuck you, Lane—”
“Let’s play this out, okay? You finish what you started, maybe it takes you another week, and then you’re free to go. No harm, no foul. It’s like you were never here. I’ll take it from there.”
“And if I leave now?”
“I really can’t let you do that. I’m sorry.”
Jeff shook his head like he wanted to wake up from a bad dream. “The real world doesn’t run like this anymore, Lane. This isn’t the fifties. You Bradford types can’t control things like you used to. You can’t bury accountability in the backyard just because it’s inconvenient or you think a veil of privacy is more important than the law of the land. And as for me? Don’t push me. Don’t put me in this position.”
“You’re not the only one with information, though.” Lane walked over to the desk and picked up the flash drive. “Somehow, I don’t think your professional reputation up in Manhattan would survive the disclosure of the gambling ring you ran in college. Students at five universities ran hundreds of thousands of dollars through you and your system of bookies, and before you go down the water-under-the-bridge argument, I’ll remind you that it was illegal and of such a large scale that you yourself have some RICO stain on you.”
“Fuck you.”
“It is what it is.”
Jeff looked down at the cuffs on his business shirt for a while. Then he shook his head again. “Man, you are just like your father.”
“The hell I am—”
“You’re blackmailing me! What the fuck!”
“This is about survival! You think I want to do this? You think I’m getting off strong-arming one of my best friends to stick in the viper pit with me? My father would have enjoyed this—I hate it! But what else am I supposed to do?”
Jeff got to his feet and hollered right back. “Call the fucking Feds! Be normal instead of some kind of Kentucky Fried Tony Soprano!”
“I can’t do that,” Lane said grimly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. And I’m sorry … but I need you, and I’m in the tragic situation of having to do anything in my power to make you stay.”
Jeff jabbed a finger across the tense air. “You’re an asshole if you go down this road. And that doesn’t change just because you’re playing the poor-me card.”
“If you were in my situation, you’d do the same.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know that. Trust me. Shit like this changes everything.”
“You got that right,” Jeff snapped.
Flashbacks of them as college students at U.Va., in the frat house, in class, on vacations that Lane paid for, filtered through his mind. There had been poker games, and practical jokes, women and more women—especially on Lane’s part.
He had never once thought the guy wouldn’t be in his life. But he was out of time, out of options, and at the end of the rope.
“I’m not like my father,” Lane said.
“So delusion also runs in your family. Quite a gene pool you people have got, quite a motherfucking gene pool.”
“Here’s the company directory. There’s the phone. Um … the computer. This is a desk. And … yup, this is a chair.” As Mack ran out of gas, he glanced around the reception area in front of his office at the Old Site. Like maybe someone would jump out from behind the rustic furniture and give him an orientation lifeline.
The Perfect Beth, as he was coming to think of her, just laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out. Do I have a user name and password to get into the system?” At his blank look, she tapped the directory. “Okaaaaay, so I’m going to call the IT department and get that started. Unless HR is already on it?”
“Ah …”
She took her purse off her shoulder and put it under the desk. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. Did you even let them know I’ve been hired?”
“I …”
“Right, how about you send them an e-mail? And tell them I’ll be calling around various places to get everything up and rolling?”
“I want you to know, in spite of the stunning incompetence I’m currently throwing around here, I am stellar at many things. Making bourbon being chief among them.”
As she smiled at him, Mack found himself looking into her eyes for a little too long. In her red blouse and her black skirt and her flat shoes, she was everything that was competent, attractive and smart.
“Well, I’m good at my job, too,” Beth said. “This is why you hired