King's Country (Oil Kings #4) - Marie Johnston Page 0,79
neared, I slowed like I was walking through fresh concrete.
Emilia Boyd was the other person in the office. Had she come to testify against me? Was she the opposite of a good reference? Did I even need references for some of these programs?
Big Dick rose, opened the door, and stuck his hand out. “Thanks for coming, Bristol. Have a seat.”
I ignored the hand and went to the chair by Emilia that was angled so we’d be a happy little threesome in the office. I remained standing. I didn’t plan on talking about my ranch’s business around her. “What’s this about?”
He shut the door and scooted around his desk to sit in his ergonomic throne. “Please, have a seat.”
“No.”
His bushy brows rose and guilt laced his expression. He shot a disapproving look toward Emilia and attempted a friendly smile.
I didn’t like him, but if he hadn’t wanted Emilia here either, then she’d browbeaten him into it. Her accounts probably fueled his winter vacations to Cancun and his summer golf trips with his buddies.
He rubbed his temple. “Well, uh, Ms. Boyd asked me for a favor.”
I planted my hands on my hips, wishing I’d worn boots and dusty blue jeans after all. I was out of my element in too many ways. “Am I here to talk business or not?”
“Of a sort,” Emilia replied.
“My business isn’t yours.”
“You’d be surprised.”
I hated that she’d hooked me. But my animosity was greater than my curiosity. “Nope.” I turned for the door.
“Dawson can’t marry you. Or he won’t. I’m not sure yet which one he’ll choose.”
“My business with Dawson is also not yours.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re going to cost our family a lot of money if you keep seeing my grandson.”
Walk away, Bristol. But I asked, “How?”
She waved to the empty chair but I only arched a brow. This situation was spiraling out of control faster than a panicked herd of cattle, and refusing to sit in that damn chair was my only power move.
Emilia looked down on me. From her chair. “Fine. When DB and I sold some shares of the company, we gifted it to Sarah. For the boys.” There had to be some advantage for her and DB if they’d gifted the money. Either that, or Emilia’s only soft spot had been Sarah. “She made it into a trust, for each boy. For when they turned twenty-nine.”
She waited for me to understand. “Yes, I get it. Dawson’s birthday is in two weeks.”
“Mmm. But if he doesn’t marry by then, he’ll lose it. One hundred million dollars, Bristol.”
I scoffed. What an absurd amount of money. Was she embellishing? Who had that amount of money?
She tilted her head, still looking down on me while she was sitting. “Has he proposed?”
I didn’t answer, but gave her a you know he hasn’t look.
“Right. If he doesn’t marry, that money goes to you.”
I chuffed out a laugh again. This lady was unbelievable. Should I warn Dawson that they might have to worry about her mental health?
Unease curled through my belly. What if it was the truth? What did that mean? “Okay, so he’s not marrying me so I’ll get the money.”
“Wouldn’t he have told you if he wanted you to have the trust?”
“I don’t know.” And I didn’t know. Hurt wedged a toehold into my heart. He hadn’t mentioned a thing about this trust. Emilia’s gaze was steady, her expression determined. She wasn’t fucking lying. She wasn’t showing signs of dementia. We were in the middle of a bank. With the bank president watching our exchange. Emilia wouldn’t lie in front of him. She’d planned this.
The one thing I knew for certain about Emilia Boyd? She was motivated by money. And her family was in danger of losing money. To me.
And Dawson hadn’t said a thing. I swallowed hard and tried to stop shock from spinning my thoughts out of control.
“Do you realize,” she said in a light tone, “that all of his brothers married days before their birthdays in order to keep the money from you?”
I opened my mouth to say something smart, something that would make it seem like I wasn’t buying what she was selling, but I couldn’t. The King brothers were all about a year apart. And for the last three years, each of the three older brothers had gotten married. If I asked Dawson when their birthdays were versus their anniversaries, what would he tell me?
“Each boy married so the trust wouldn’t revert to you. Each. One.” She studied me as if