Page 9 of Nailing the Billionaire

He paused. “Dennis, is that who you think you have a problem with?”

“No. I know it’s most likely the anonymous writer.”

“That’s the one you need to find. But in the meantime, this reminds me of your grandfather.”

I sighed. I didn’t need another down-home, don’t-count-your-chickens-before-they-hatch kind of saying today.

“Your grandfather used to say you couldn’t add anything to the lemonade to make it more sour, but you could always add sugar to make it sweeter.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

A lot of good that did.

“Sugar can sweeten the most bitter lemonade, if you have enough.”

My brain kicked into gear, and I understood his message for a change. I had no idea why the great Lloyd Benson couldn’t be more direct; it would have made life so much easier.

“Thanks, Dad. That’s a good suggestion.”

When I was sixteen, I’d been sure my generation was a lot smarter than our elders. Ever since then, I’d been getting reminders that we didn’t know as much as we thought, and today was another one.

“Have a good rest of the day,” he said. “And don’t forget to ask for help if you need it.”

We hung up.

Ask for help?That was his way of telling me I’d made a mistake by going off on my own, and he’d remind me of it forever if I went back to him for help. I’d handled tough situations before, and I’d handle this one. Sooner or later he’d get it through his thick skull that I wasn’t a kid anymore.

I went to my jacket and pulled the awful envelope I’d been served out of the inside breast pocket. I was about to slice it open and get the bad news out of the way, when I stopped.

I put the letter face down on the desk. I’d had enough bad news for today. Picking up my phone, I was about to dial Dad back, when I decided against it. I didn’t need validation. I knew what to do. The phone went face down on the envelope.

The phone and envelope made an odd pair. Melissa had given me the phone, a recent peace offering, and I’d avoided the urge to chuck it along with everything else that reminded me of her—that would have been giving in and letting her dictate my actions.

Keeping the phone had been my way of proving she couldn’t control me or my mood. But the letter under the phone proved she wouldn’t stop trying. Those were the Jekyll and Hyde sides of Melissa—today she’d chosen the evil Hyde. And she’d already consumed more of my time than she deserved.

I walked to the door and opened it.

Thankfully, Cindy was at her desk.

“I need Larry, Jay, and Bob, right now,” I told her.

* * *

Jennifer

I passed through the lobby,and everything looked as it had yesterday.

The elevator disgorged passengers at several floors before reaching the fourteenth, where I got off. Turning right into finance, I could see and hear the hum of gossip as people stopped at each other’s cubicles to share what they’d heard, or read, or just guessed at.

I unlocked the drawers in my cubicle and dropped my purse in the bottom one after taking out my phone and putting it on the charger. A dead phone was a useless phone, and mine was losing charge faster these days. I needed to take it in for a battery replacement when I got the time—if I ever got the time. Time and money always seemed to be in short supply for me.

I pushed the power button, and my computer slowly came to life.

“Did you see the news?” Vanessa asked breathlessly from behind me.

I turned. “No, what news?”

“You have to check theTimeswebsite.”

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