Merger to Marriage (Boardrooms and Billi - By Addison Fox Page 0,9

that he had work to do. He muted the call and shouted for his assistant to come in. He knew immediately by the pinched look around her mouth that his unpleasant afternoon wasn’t about to get any better. “What is it, Gloria?”

“A woman is here to see you. She won’t tell me who she is, but is insistent you know her.”

“Her name?”

“Eloisa Westmoreland.”

“Please send her in.”

If Gloria questioned the directive, he’d never know it by her impassive face.

“Of course.”

Holt gave his desk a quick glance as his heart kicked into overdrive. Other than the slim laptop and his tablet, there was nothing on the desk besides a closed file folder. He wouldn’t put it past her to rifle through it when he wasn’t looking. And damn it all to hell, he hated that his mother had the power to do this to him. Hated that the mere mention of her name riled him up while ruining every good feeling inside of him.

The door opened, as if punctuating his thoughts, and then he was face to face with his mother for the first time in a year. He held up a finger and pointed toward the phone, then gestured for her to take a seat. A quick note of curiosity stamped itself across her elegant features, but she nodded, looking for all the world like a doting mother come to see her son.

He watched her surreptitiously from his desk as the call wound down. She was still attractive—stunning, really. Tall and slender, she maintained a regal carriage and a heartbreakingly beautiful face that looked like she walked off a movie set. Eloisa Turner, later Blackstone and now Westmoreland, knew how to accentuate, flaunt, and present every asset she possessed.

After closing the call, he stood and crossed to his mother. Her bright smile and outstretched arms added to the illusion of the doting mother. “Holt, Darling.”

“Eloisa.”

“You no longer wish to call me Mom?”

“I haven’t wished to call you that for many years now, as you well know.”

A small pout crossed his mother’s lips before she pulled it back. They’d gone enough rounds through the years that she’d learned her usual tactics employed on others—the poor, whimpering, female act—would get her nowhere with him. “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

“I’m sure I don’t.”

“I need money.”

“Another subject you know my feelings on.”

“Yes, but this is different. I really need some help.”

He held back the sigh, unwilling to give any indication of how tedious he found this conversation. “What could you possibly need help with now?”

“My husband has lost interest.”

“It was only a matter of time.” The words were harsh and unkind, and his gaze locked on the view out his expansive windows as he waited for his mother’s answer.

“Be that as it may, I’m in a pinch and need money.”

“Find it somewhere else.”

“It’s only for a short while.” She snapped out the retort, her delicate features as greedy and full of avarice as ever. “You know I’m good for it.”

“No, in fact I don’t know that. I have no interest in bankrolling something illegal, which is, no doubt, what you’re up to.”

“My investments are none of your business.”

A harsh laugh escaped his lips, and he fought to keep his emotions in check. She thrived on conflict and drama, and he’d never known anyone better able to zero in on another’s weakness. “Is that what you’re calling them now?”

“Just because you and I have never seen eye to eye on our work ethic doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”

“I’m well aware of yours. Do the least possible for the most gain. If gotten through illegal means, all the better.”

“You like to think you’re above it all, Holt.” She pointed as she turned in a circle around his well-appointed office. “Like somehow because you’ve made something of yourself it washes away what you did.”

Helpless waves of frustration washed over him, and, once more, he forced an icy veneer of calm over those raging emotions. “Rewrite history all you want. I was there and I know what happened. I was a child forced to steal for you.”

His mother’s own calm, cool veneer cracked, the signs of her age showing in the slender lines that wrapped the corners of her mouth. “Are you so sure others will see it that way? A few well-placed calls and I can ruin you.”

“And why would you want to slay the golden goose, Eloisa? I’m far more valuable to you if I’m successful than if I’m poor. You know that better

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