Twisted Love (Modern Romance #3) - Piper Lawson Page 0,76
filed in California court.”
The news slams into me, a speeding car ramming my sternum.
“The firm’s assets will be tied up for the next twelve months at least,” he goes on, “and if they’re ruled against, they’ll have to dissolve just to pay the legal bills.”
Fuck.
“Holt, would you excuse us?” Xavier's booming voice leaves no room for argument.
Holt leaves, shooting me a glare that’s triumphant at the same time.
He’s glad to see me go down in flames, even if it’s this company’s deal.
Xavier rises from his chair to stare me down from across the table. “The first time I met you, I appreciated your cunning. You were bold but with a track record to back it up. Now I’m questioning whether the senior partner position is the right fit."
"You're questioning," I echo. "Last month you were questioning whether I had the right support at home. I showed you I did. Maybe you're looking for things to question where there aren't any."
His gaze narrows.
"I've made this firm more money than any other partner in the past two years."
“Which is why I've given you the benefit of the doubt,” Xavier goes on. “Why did you want this deal to go through.”
My jaw clenches. “Because it was the right move.”
“Not because it was your recommendation against Holt's?”
I could argue, but even I know that’s not true.
I had everything lined up for this deal. It was the right move. I don’t know what happened, but it’s possible I didn’t get wind of something that I should have.
I stalk out of the room without a word.
Tris follows me into my office. “Ben.”
I ignore him, shoving files into my briefcase for my next meetings. “Did you know about this?”
“I told you there were issues, but you didn’t want to listen. You wanted to win more than you wanted this firm to make the right choice.”
“Holt’s choice is never the right choice. Don’t you see that? He has zero credibility, less intuition.”
“You hating Holt isn’t going to get you Xavier's seat.”
I slam my briefcase shut and cut my brother the coldest look I can muster before heading for the door.
“This is fun,” Mom gushes when I pick her up in the limo.
Debatable.
The rest of my day was shit, moving between already packed schedule of meetings and trying to salvage my tech deal only to find out it was well and truly dead.
If I hadn’t talked with Holt’s investor maybe I would’ve caught wind of it.
So much for being nice.
“Where’s Daisy?” Mom asks, elegant as she crosses her legs in a long blue dress that sets off her dark hair and eyes.
“Meeting us there.”
Daisy’s voicemail saying she needed extra time to get ready wasn’t what I’d expected, but I went with it.
“And your brother?”
“Tris and I are having a dispute.”
She shifts in her seat, cocking her head at me.
“You should’ve stopped after one,” I say.
“You’d miss him. I would too.”
I shake my head.
“I have a good feeling about tonight,” she goes on.
I don’t. Not only did my deal go up in flames, but my senior partner questioned my judgment.
When the limo delivers us to the venue, I escort my mother to the door, falling into line with the other exceptionally well-dressed people. I greet business and charity contacts as we go, and Mom does too.
She really is good at this part. I think of Daisy’s words that I should involve her more in my life. She’s probably right, and I vow to do that.
Once inside the vaulted foyer, an enormous two-story anteroom crowned by a modern metal chandelier, we proceed down a short hall. Double doors open into a main room that’s as grand as the entrance: more than two dozen tables, plus seats for a small orchestra and a dance floor. A box stage at the front is draped in heavy cream-colored fabric, and the podium has silver accents that match the venue’s simple logo on the front.
On each table sits a large crystal vase out of which spill dozens of white flowers, and each place setting has crystal napkin holders and an embossed card bearing the names of the nominees and presenters.
No one does self-congratulation like the Manhattan elite.
When we get into the main room, we’re shown to our seats at a round of eight. My business partners are already there with my brother. Tris and Mom hug, and my partners greet my mother too.
I check my phone. Nothing from Daisy.
The speech I figured I’d be using—until this morning—is in my pocket. I have no idea if