Page 346 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

Reeves says, “Let’s not make this personal, Zach.”

“I’ll step down if Jacque takes it,” I answer.

“Has he answered your calls yet?” Verne asks, smirking at me.

“You know you can’t stop it if he decides to take the company,” I tell them. “Even if you succeed in knocking me off the top of the mountain, he steps in and you’re not going to have time to smear him out of a job, too.”

“We’re not trying to s—damn it, Zach!” Reeves growls and slams the table with his fist. “Will you wake the hell up already?”

Everyone on the board but Verne averts their eyes. They may be behind every word, but they like to preserve the appearance, however flimsy, of calm objectivity and Reeves is straight up calling me out.

“Don’t you see what you’ve done to the company by not allowing this move before now? From what I hear, you’re still thinking about moving headquarters to Mulholland!” Reeves spits. “If we’re going to talk about people sabotaging things, maybe we should start with that!”

I sit quietly a moment.

It’s been a while since I’ve been yelled at—with an audience, that is. I smile. “I bet it felt good, finally getting that out after all this time, Reeves. Damn it, I’m proud of you,” I tell him. “Also, that’s a no to everything. If you can guarantee me we don’t lose one job here, and that the company will make it intractable that we stay headquartered right here, no matter what you or anyone else who may follow me has to say, I’ll sign the paper right now. You can keep whatever golden parachute you’ve had in mind. But you’re not willing to do that, are you?”

Nobody answers.

I stand up and adjust my tie. “It may just happen that you get me out of here and manage to screw everyone we ever made a promise to, but you’re not there yet,” I tell them. “For now, I want each of you to write me at least a page, but no more than two, on ideas you have to save the company that don’t involve moving it overseas.”

“Homework, Zach?” Verne asks. “Really?”

“Call it a show of good faith,” I answer. “If nothing else, it’ll show the public that you at least considered other options before you decided to screw the world.”

There’s nothing more to say or do here, so I give one more glance to the board and walk out of the room.

After telling Nolan, my lead assistant, to hold my calls, I head into my office and shut the door.

This is really happening. In the room, I project confidence because I can’t afford to look weak, but I’m running out of moves. They’re going to remove me. The investors are behind it. At the end of the day, that’s all that ever matters.

Where the hell is Jacque?

I pick up my office phone and dial the number, but it just goes to voice mail. Jacque sold his shares not long after our IPO made us—him, me, and a lot of others—very rich people. He won’t answer my calls because he’s probably still mad at me for calling him a coward and a traitor after he told me what he’d done.

That was before I ever had this office. It was a while before I learned never to make things personal. Of course, that’s a lesson I’ve found myself conveniently forgetting over the last few months.

For now, I pour myself a drink, sit in my fancy chair, and try to tattoo the view from this window into my brain. It won’t be long until it’s nothing but a memory.

* * *

It’safter nine o’clock and I’m still at the office when Nolan knocks on my door and shows himself into the office.

“There’s a call for you on line two,” he says, “someone named Naomi.”

“Take a message and then tear it up,” I tell him. “Anything else?”

“She says it’s urgent,” he tells me. “She said, ‘Something’s wrong with Grace.’”

I press the button for line two and pick up the phone, saying, “What happened?”

“Oh, hey Zach,” Naomi says. “Yeah, so I just got to the beach house and there are a lot of people here.”

“People?” I ask. “What do you mean? Where’s Grace?”

Naomi clicks her tongue, saying, “I don’t think she’s doing so well. You should probably get here and talk to her.”

“Is she all right, though?” I ask. “What’s going on?”

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