Page 20 of Mending Our Chance

I visited my bank first, for a very personal, very important reason. I had buried all protests deep in my bones when I had disconnected the call with Auntie Gi. She had confirmed that she was stable. Her experimental procedure could wait because her numbers were stronger and had returned to borderline. So, it was a sign that it was time to launch my own business. I had decided that I was going to help Marcus. The risk was acceptable as he had never screwed me in a business sense, and technically never in the personal sense either. Besides, we needed the capital in my savings account to recover.

If I turned this around and made this business thrive, there would be a big fat check coming my way which would pay her admission into the trial if her numbers rose again. And, by the time that happened, I would either have the money or Gianna would suck up her pride and visit the patriarch of our family to request the money. That thought held promise—if Auntie Gi went to her brother, that might open the door for me to go back to my father.

It was still early by the time I made it to our office building. Anticipation scrawled through my chest, and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face as I rode the elevator up to our suite. But when I walked through the front door, all my reasons and discussion points vanished. Harold was there—and Marcus had the traitor pinned to the wall by his neck.

I was barely able to set down the coffees and bagels I had picked up after the bank visit before I rushed to the door of the conference room. “Marcus!” His name was a hoarse gasp on my lips.

“Don’t worry, city slicker, this fool isn’t worth the lickin’, and I was just telling him to leave when he refused.” Marcus narrowed his eyes, never taking them off his prey. Harold’s face was red and spittle flew from his mouth.

I slowly entered the room. “Mr. Graceson, why are you here?” I asked carefully as I approached the two males. “We’d heard that you sold the company from underneath us last night.”

“I came for the prototype and my hard drive.” Harold was clawing at Marcus’ forearm. I saw Marcus’ freehand form a fist, but at the last second it flexed back open.

I spoke up before Marcus could. “Mr. Graceson, you are not welcome here.”

“This isn’t your company anymore,” Harold sneered in return. “We bought you out.”

“Yes, AVIAF Tech. is gone. This morning, however, we formed Bowers & Saccone LLC. Furthermore, Mr. Bowers had to lease this place in his own name and with his personal credit. Therefore, not only are you trespassing on the premises, but you just admitted to trying to steal our equipment. That’s attempted theft, Mr. Graceson. Now, you need to leave before I call the police and you are charged with a felony.” I cocked my head to the side, giving him an assessing stare. “Weren’t you dishonorably discharged? Tsk, tsk, Mr. Graceson.” I crossed my arms and tapped my foot. “If I make that phone call then I’m sure that my business partner’s fist will be the least of your worries.”

Marcus let go as if he had suddenly been burned. Harold crumpled to the floor. He spluttered and in a matter of moments, he hightailed it from the office. I kept my eyes on him, trying not to smirk as he tripped on the threshold while making his exit.

Marcus collapsed into a chair. I didn’t look at him as I walked to the side table and poured three fingers into a ceramic mug from the rest of the dark amber bourbon we had sipped on all night. I made a mental note to get Marcus a crystal decanter with matching tumblers for his new office. It would be an office warming gift for my new partner. The thought of him being my business partner had really sunk in within the past few minutes, and as I replaced the cap on the bottle, I couldn’t help the delicious shiver that rippled down my spine. When I turned back to face him, I decided to tackle the elephant in the room.

“Look, I’m not taking up residence in Harold’s old space. Later today, you are going to need to clear his office out, sanitize it, then set yourself up in there. We’ll put those fancy computers in the file room, and hire a contract worker to come into our space to work on them—that way they won’t be a complete waste. Meanwhile, I’ll decorate and arrange myself in your old office. This isn’t negotiable.” I buffered my blunt demands with a smile as I handed a mug of booze to my new partner.

Marcus reached out almost absentmindedly and took the bourbon from me. “I wasn’t going to lay a finger on him,” he admitted softly. “But he just wouldn’t stop and—” Marcus paused abruptly and ran his hands through his hair before finishing, “Thanks for the bluff, I was going postal.”

Leaving for a moment to retrieve the coffee and food, I played over his words in my mind. Clearly, he hadn’t heard me or believed me. Smirking to myself, I felt excited to sink the fact into that thick skull of his. I walked right up to where he sat. Careful not to crowd his personal space, I scooted my ass onto the conference table next to him and pushed one of the bagels toward him. “There was no bluff,” I confirmed as I tore into my own bagel. I watched him swirl his cup of bourbon. I leaned a little closer so he was sure to hear my next words. “We own a company, Marcus.”

My words held no meaning to him or he wasn’t listening as he replied, “Maybe they’ll throw me some money for the equipment.” Marcus’ voice broke and he had to cough a little before continuing, “I heard the acquisitions specialist over at Glencoe INC. is a real bastard, so it’s unlikely.”

“No, Marcus.” I bent down so that my eyes were level to his. “Listen to me and listen well. I invested in us, Marcus. I bought into the business and we really do own a company together. Harold might own the single thing he’s developed despite it being your initial idea—we could still fight him in court for the copyright infringement if you’re keen to pursue this.”

He was looking at me now. I could see the wheels in his mind turning, but there was no hope shimmering back at me yet. So, I proceeded to strike that match. I wrapped my fingers around his hands which were holding the ceramic mug so tightly it was liable to break.

“Around five this morning, delirious and angry, I got a clear idea on the cab ride home,” I continued. “And I suddenly wondered why we would waste time and resources on a damned prototype.”

“Because it’s mine?” But his voice held no assertion and no fight.

“Technically, but no, because it comes from an empty company. So, I drew up some documents and formed Bowers & Saccone LLC. All I need is your signature, and we can turn it in ASAP!” My smile was infectious.

Marcus’ face lit up as he followed what I was telling him. “Can it be settled with the state fast enough to be recognized before Glencoe comes in and claims our goods and services?”

“I know someone,” I confirmed with a laugh, pushing the documents to him while I reached back behind me for a pen. “I have a buddy who owes me and he can get it filed over the weekend. By Monday, everything will be legal.”

“Of course you know someone.” Marcus shook his head. I could see the amazement flitting through his eyes, but when those dark eyes turned up to meet my outright stare, he paused and asked, “Why?”

“Do you remember what you said to me that first day? On the campus at Columbia? You said that this was my chance to prove myself to the world… well, dammit, it sure is. So, I’m claiming my place at this new venture. This is our company which includes that portfolio of ideas you have. We are going to start new on paper. Admittedly, it will set us back a few days, but we will still forge onward.”

While I was rambling, Marcus had grown still. “Felicity, what do you want from me?” he asked in a soft voice.

Unwilling to open up that jar of worms, I laughed off the serious tone in the air. “Nothing more than your John Hancock at this moment. Then once delivered, you can drink your damned whiskey, Southern boy, as we have work to do today and there is no time to waste.” I might be able to handle his joy about our business decision, but the emerging lust on his face was too much.

Or so I thought. When his bloodshot eyes looked at me, I made a snap decision. I swooped down and pecked his forehead, then tipped my head down so that our foreheads touched. He had looked so hopeless that I’d felt a strong need to offer him some comfort. Little did I know that my small gesture was a spark to a dry bonfire of volatile feelings.

Marcus hissed at the contact. His left hand snaked out and he trailed his fingertips up my thigh, pausing at the hemline to my skirt. I marveled that this same hand that had so effortlessly pinned a full-grown man to the wall was now so gentle and waiting for my permission.

Did I want this? It didn’t take me long to think about it. Yes, but not now. I might have scars from the past, but I was learning to sort through the garbage and take charge of the future.

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