Page 316 of One More Kiss

Damian’s jaw flexed. “Fine. But you do not have my permission to fuck this up. There is too much riding on this. We’re not just trying to pay for school and get out of debt. This is for Jordan and Kaylee.”

Conjuring our younger sisters’ names was a sobering move. I averted my eyes, studying the constellation of city lights visible outside our fifth floor window. Silence throbbed between us, the energy wavering between tense and somber.

“You don’t think I know that?” I finally forced out.

“Of course I think you know that,” Damian said, softer this time. “But I’m saying we need to give this business our all. It has to work. And as far as I can see, we’ve got one shot.”

“Whatever we do to establish ourselves,” Trace said, “is going to become a part of our reputation. We need to tread carefully. But we need to act decisively.”

“I’ve got decisiveness. And I’ve got my rubber boots, so I can tread carefully though whatever shit people decide they want to sling our way. Hell, between those two things and three-quarters of a degree from Columbia Business School, I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be to head the firm as CEO. A piece of paper from the university isn’t gonna change much. The three of us can change the world.”

Damian nodded, finally backing down. He walked slowly around the living room, arms crossed tightly.

“We will change the world,” he promised.

“As long as we’re clear headed. Focused. And we can stay out of the spotlight,” Trace added.

“All publicity is good publicity,” I said. “We’re bound to make it to the tabloids once we’re rich enough. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Fine. Limited spotlight then,” Trace conceded. “At least minimize the spotlight for non-business endeavors.”

“That’s a good distinction,” Damian pointed out. “Because the algorithm I cooked up is going to turn some heads. We’re not going to be able to fly under the radar, so our noses need to be clean.” When Damian talked that way about what he cooked up while coding, I believed him. The man was a genius. He could hack into any computer and had even gotten into Pentagon files once for fun in undergrad. The algorithm he’d created would become the basis of our wealth management approach.

In other words, it was what would make us become le crème de la crème of finance.

“I’m fine with that.” I squeezed my knees, every inch of me crawling with desire to get this show on the road. Every step closer to success equaled more distance between me and the memory of Cora. My goal was to eradicate her completely from my waking thoughts. At this rate, it might take a decade to get there. “I’ll keep my one-night stands to a dull roar. And we don’t even have to worry about you two in that department.” I smirked.

“Oh, no?” Trace lifted a brow. “You act like our dicks have fallen off.”

“Because they have.” I reached out to punch Trace in the crotch, but he caught my fist. We had a brief battle of strength before I ceded.

“We get what we need,” Damian said.

“Which is what, a pocket pussy?” I teased.

Damian’s lips thinned. “Just because I don’t flaunt my cock like you do these days doesn’t mean I don’t have any fun.”

“Dude, if I don’t flaunt my cock, I’ll go crazy,” I told him earnestly. Sadness gripped me again, a painful chokehold. “I need my coping mechanism.”

“Let him have it,” Trace chided Damian. “At least it isn’t drugs or alcohol.”

“Well, only drugs and alcohol on occasion,” I clarified. Truth was, I’d been downing way more beer and whiskey than ever before. But some nights, it was the only way I could make thoughts of Cora stop. Sex turned my brain off for nights when the memories were the loudest. Alcohol numbed the pain when I felt like I’d drown in how much I still loved her.

“Point is, I’m ready to go all in on this. Now. Because the alternative isn’t pretty. I’m sick of being cash strapped and waiting for dividends to hit the bank account. I’m done paying for Chinese food with crypto because our assets are tied up until whatever random future date. I want us to have a fucking penthouse with a view and so much cash that we’re donating to charities weekly. Nobody will be afraid to invest with us, because Fairchild Enterprises will become the name for wealth. That’s a fucking promise.”

“God, I love it when you get on these tangents,” Trace said with a grin.

“And with this algorithm, we’re going to do right by Jordan and Kaylee. I wasn’t kidding when I said these rich assholes won’t know what hit ’em. We’ll be pumping their own money back into the communities that need the most support.”

“Wouldn’t it be fun to personally investigate each client, figure out their pain point, and put the money there?” Damian said, an evil sparkle lighting up his eyes.

“Oh, I like when you get devilish,” I said.

“Food for thought,” Damian said with a shrug. “If we’ve got the manpower, we could figure out where we feed their extra-vestments.” Extra-vestments was our inside term. It meant the skimmed percentages we planned to take, not as our service fee, but as our charity fee, built into the investment schema so that our clients had no idea they were silently feeding money into social services and charities.

It was a moral gray area and one we were pleased to enter. After all, Trace would invest the money so well that our clients would have no room to complain. They’d be missing nothing. And we’d be taking what looked like a service charge.

Win-win.

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