Page 32 of Nutcracker with Benefits
“Fritz, what the fuck is wrong with you?” I land on my knees next to Nash as he rises up on an elbow. His other hand is cupping his face, and blood is dripping from between his fingers.
Instead of answering me, Fritz sucks in air through his teeth as if his pain is unbearable.
I pull Nash’s hands away from his face. Fritz punched him on his left jaw, and the area is red and swelling quickly, the lip on that side cut. I help Nash stand. “Come on, let’s get ice on that.”
“Don’t you see, Clara,” my brother says. “He’s just using you.”
We ignore him, walking to Nash’s kitchen. “You’re an idiot,” I tell my brother over my shoulder. In the kitchen, I grab a cold can of soda and give it to Nash to hold against his face while I dig out a plastic bag and fill it with ice.
Instead of leaving—read the room, Fritz—he follows us into the kitchen and has the gall to ask for ice for his hand. I glare at him for a moment and give the ice to Nash.
Nash hands the ice over to Fritz, who sniffs and takes it. I put my hands on my hips and swivel my glare to Nash. “Why?”
“I’ve got this.” Nash raises the soda back to his jaw as if the ice is what I’m talking about.
“No. Why? Why are men so stupid?” I return my glare to my brother. “Why, exactly, did you think it was a good idea to punch Nash? Never mind the fact that he could—and should—sue your ass.”
Fritz glares at Nash. “He’s using you to get Uncle D’s company.”
“That makes no sense,” I snap.
“He’s seducing you! He wants your share of the company.”
I clench my jaw. “Once again, Fritz, that makes no sense.”
“He told Dad he’s going to marry you. Obviously, that’s his plan to gain control of the company.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake…
“Companies don’t work that way,” I tell Fritz. “Maybe a few years ago, that would have worked, but the company is publicly traded now.”
Uncertainty flickers in Fritz’s expression. “I know that. But still—”
“And, even if the company wasn’t publicly traded, Uncle D has an exit strategy that’s being implemented over the next few years. Who I marry has absolutely nothing to do with Heartly.”
“But you’d still be rich,” Fritz insists.
“And so would Nash,” I shout. “We all three inherit from Uncle D and Dad if anything were to happen.”
“We do?” Nash and Fritz say at the same time.
“Yes, we do. Nash is practically family regardless of whether I was to marry him or not.”
The two of them stare at me. “How do you know this?” Nash asks.
“Because Uncle D and I talk about these kinds of things. He’s always been a business mentor to me. Maybe not as much as he’s been to you, but ever since my first pitch to him, he talks to me about things, too, including the new wills Uncle D and Dad had written a few years ago.”
“You pitched to Uncle D? Why did you need to pitch to him?” Fritz’s forehead is scrunched up, and by god, this proves that my brother has no idea what goes on in the business.
“Uncle D gave me the seed money for my first year of travel. I put together a five-year strategic plan, and he lent me the money.”
Fritz’s jaw drops. “He refused to loan me money when I wanted to invest in Duke’s farm.”
“Duke’s farm was for fish oil pills, and he didn’t have a five-year business plan or FDA approval. He lasted six months, and god knows what happened to the idiots who invested in him.”
“I invested in him.” Fritz clenches his jaw, and the room goes quiet. I’m not going to say it out loud, but I’m still thinking it—god, my brother is an idiot.
“You never were that interested in Heartly, anyway,” I say, turning us back to the point at hand. “If you’d put any effort in, then maybe you’d actually have something to argue about.”
