Page 67 of Love Story

I was trying to find the issues I had the first time when I’d left that stupid review.

And they weren’t as bad as when I first read.

To distract myself, I opened my email and skimmed through messages.My stomach twisted as I came across the screenshots of Nelson’s latest debate on WordBook.The thread was long and heated, packed full of defensive comments from Nelson about the integrity of his work.

I groaned, rubbing a hand over my face—what I’d said was shit, but his publishers must hate him getting on a public forum to defend himself, particularly with the trolls on there who kept stirring the pot.

I owed Adam Nelson an apology.I owed him a response.I owed him… something.

It was just one more regret in a steaming pile of regrets.

I pocketed my phone and took a long sip of my coffee.

Later.

For now, it was time for the meeting.

THE AIR INthe conference room was filled with tension pressing against my ribs and making breathing harder than it should be.Theo sat at the head of the table.His tie was slightly askew, and he had a legal pad in front of him filled with scribbles I couldn’t read upside down.His team, two junior associates who looked as if they hadn’t slept in days, flanked him, each with their laptops open and fingers poised over their keyboards.

A man I didn’t recognize sat across the table.He wore a sharp suit, had even sharper eyes, and an expression that screamed corporate shark.He introduced himself as Calvin Marks, Brad’s lawyer.

Theo reclined in his chair, arms crossed and gaze unwavering.“Let’s cut to the chase.What do you want?”

Marks didn’t flinch.“As I explained, my client has a password to key pieces of evidence—that your client, Mr.Marshall, hasn’t been able to access yet.”

“Brad said that?”I snapped and turned to Theo.“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

Theo shook his head, and I subsided, waiting for more.

Marks cleared his throat.“As I was saying, my client has evidence that could prove critical to your case against Crendon Harbor Capital.”

My stomach tightened.“The missing audit files?”

Marks shifted his gaze to me, his expression as sharp as a freshly honed blade.“Mr.Marshall, my client has disclosed the existence of materials that, if produced, would establish a direct chain of command linking the senior executives of your former firm to the financial irregularities you identified.According to him, these materials—comprising emails, internal memoranda, and other pertinent communications—were retained as a form of leverage.”

He paused, his lips pressing into a thin, disapproving line, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing his face.“I was not apprised of this during the trial phase, which is, suffice it to say, a rather glaring oversight.However, their existence changes the calculus considerably.Should these documents be produced, they would incontrovertibly implicate the firm’s ownership in orchestrating and perpetuating the misappropriation of funds.Faced with such evidence, the executives would be compelled to concede guilt and negotiate their penalties, thereby obviating the necessity of a protracted criminal trial.”

“What does that even mean?”I asked Theo.

He narrowed his eyes at Marks, then glanced at me.“In summary, this evidence—ifit even exists—would mean you aren’t accused and wouldn’t have to testify in court.”

“It exists,” Marks said.

Relief began to rise inside me.Could this be over?“Well, that’s a good thing.We could do that.I want to do that.”I’ll do anything to make this go away.

“It’s not that simple, Ben.”Theo’s brow furrowed, suspicion radiating from him as he shifted his focus back to Marks.“There must be an angle.Why hasn’t your client handed over this password yet?He’s had plenty of chances, and you say he withheld files and didn’t tell you.”

Marks’ smile wavered a little at the pointing out the lack of client/lawyer trust.“He wants to speak to Mr.Marshall face-to-face.”

My pulse kicked up a notch.“Why?What could he possibly have to say to me?”

Marks shrugged, his expression neutral.“My client trusts you with this password.”

“Why now?”

Marks clasped his hands together, leaning forward.“I would tell you that my client wants to make amends, perhaps clear his conscience.He’s prepared to hand over what you need—on the condition that you meet him.”

Theo’s hand slammed onto the table.“What’s his angle, Marks?Setting up Ben with media waiting?He’s already threatened to implicate Ben.”

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