“Hello?” I asked warily, holding one finger against my open ear to dampen the sound of the restaurant.
“Hello. Mandy.”
The breath in my lungs suddenly felt more like ice than warm air.
I knew that voice.
Knew it all too well, even though it had changed. Matured. Deepened.
My heart pounded in my chest.
The butterflies in my stomach went into overdrive.
My mind raced trying to think how to treat him.
“Jackson,” I managed after what seemed like the ten years I hadn't seen him.
“I heard you were having a bit of a hard time deciding whether or not to come to our meeting,” he drawled, the sound of a pen tapping against wood just barely seeping through the phone. “I’d like to make it a little easier for you.”
“I—”
“I don’t think you can afford not to come, Ms. Littleson.” The click of the pen, the typing sounds of a keyboard. “L&V Interiors. Owned by Miranda Littleson and Harry Voss. Currently valued at approximately five hundred thousand dollars. Three shareholders—your mother, Gianna Palton; Amanda Holston, nice to know she’s still around; and Tracey Holston, who I can only imagine is Amanda’s mother. I don’t think your shareholders would be happy to know the actual valuation.”
The idea of the plate of spaghetti I’d ordered was suddenly nauseating. “Excuse me?”
“Those numbers aren’t exactly correct, are they, Mandy? Your reported income in the last two years has been significantly lower than that. Business slowed down, and with no new, big contracts…” he continued, the creaking of leather faint in the background. “You’ll be at the meeting.”
“Jackson—”
Silence, then the sound of a beep. I pulled my phone away from my ear, the call gone, nothing but my lock screen filling the space that his number had taken.
“The fucker hung up on me.”
And to think I used to call him panda bear.
Chapter 3
Jackson
Showtime.
I’d planned everything, right down to the last detail. I wasn’t going to let a single part of this slip through my fingers, she wasn’t going to get away that easily.
I needed to see her, and I needed her alone.
The streets were quiet as I pulled my car into the parking lot. Twenty minutes late, exactly as planned. Mandy and Harry should already be inside. Sliding my phone from my suit jacket, I dialed Angela, the sound of her voice seeping through my car speakers after almost going to voicemail.
“What.”
“Are they all set up in the meeting room?” I asked as I double-checked the contents of my briefcase. All in order.
“Yes, obviously.”
“Can you grab Mandy and bring her to my office, please?”
“Jesus, Jackson,” Angela huffed. “This is insane. You know that right?”
“I’ll give you a bonus this month,” I offered, disconnecting the Bluetooth from my car and shoving my phone between my shoulder and my ear. “Tell her I need to speak to her alone first. I’ll be upstairs in a few.”