(Not) The Boss of Me - Kenzie Reed Page 0,126

square my shoulders as I walk to my seat at the head of the table. It’s a new chair. I bought it specifically to replace the one that my father and his father before him used to occupy. I don’t know if that was a childish gesture, or a sign that I’m remaking the Hudson legacy into something I can be proud of, but anyway, it’s done.

Earl Dempsey nods in greeting. He’s admitted to me privately that my suspicions were right. He was having an affair, and my uncle caught wind of it and tried to use it to blackmail him.

As I take my seat, I hear shouting from the hallway. A moment later, my uncle rushes in, with two security guards chasing after him. He slams the door shut behind him and locks it.

He’s unshaven, eyes bloodshot and tie askew. I can smell the booze reeking off him from halfway across the room.

“You can’t do this to me!” he shouts.

Cyril, the board member who used to be his biggest cheerleader, winces and fans the air with his hand.

I stand up. “You’ve already been instructed to direct all communications to Hudson, Incorporated’s attorneys.”

“I am Hudson!” he bellows. “They’re my attorneys!”

“Talk to our attorneys.”

“I had the right to that money! I wasn’t stealing; it’s my damn company!” His face is flushing dangerously red. There’s a pounding on the door. The doorknob rattles.

“Why did you hide it, then?” Cyril glowers. Earl puts his hand on Cyril’s arm. Cyril nods. “Right. Talk to our attorneys.”

My uncle swings his furious gaze towards Cyril. “Traitor.”

“You made me look like a fool!”

Earl nudges Cyril, and Cyril falls sullenly silent.

“That’s not much of a stretch,” my uncle sneers. He sways where he’s standing. The pounding grows louder; the door is shaking.

He swings to face me. “Your father was a drunk and a liar and a cheat!” he bellows. “He was a thief and a loser and a…a liar!” He juts his jaw out belligerently.

Instinctively, I clench my fists, then I summon up strength from some unknown place inside me and relax my hands. A sensation of chilling calm washes through me, sweeping aside the burning rage. My uncle will never jerk my strings again.

“Yes, he was,” I say mildly. “And now it’s up to me to try to repair the damage you two have done to our family legacy.”

The door flies open, and four security guards rush in. They drag my uncle out, and his screams and threats ring in our ears until they’ve hustled him onto the elevator.

I sink back down in my chair. I’m dazed and heartsick, and I feel like I’m floating, like there’s no ground underneath my feet, but I think of Alice and Tamara and the legacy that I want to build for them.

I take a deep, shaky breath and nod at the board members. “Gentlemen, I call this meeting to order.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Winona

The cab driver’s air conditioning is on the fritz, so I have the windows rolled down. It’s been years since I’ve been back home, and I’d forgotten how humid it is in late August. I’m sitting in the back seat with my hair exploding into an atomic frizzball, sweat running down the sides of my face, wishing I’d remembered to pack a snorkel.

My stomach churns as we round the corner, but it’s not just the heat that’s making me queasy. I have no idea what I’ll be facing when I walk into the house. My parents have straight-up refused to speak to me for the last ten days. They wouldn’t even pick up the phone.

And up until this afternoon, when I climbed on the plane to Georgia, I’ve let it go, because I knew they needed time to simmer down. I crashed at Ariel’s apartment, hiding from Blake and reality in general, leaving apology messages on my parents’ answering machine several times a day. Isabella’s fiancé is back anyway, and I’m going to need to find a new place soon.

I wipe my forehead with my sleeve, wondering if I should have called my parents to warn them I was coming today. Then again, they’re not answering the stinking phone.

All my life, I’ve had typical helicopter parents. They were always calling me, checking up on me, freaking out if they didn’t hear back from me right away. When I was a teenager, I wished my parents would ignore me. Now that my teenage wish has come true, I’m ready to tear my hair out.

Still, I understand, because I hurt them in

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