Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Could I congratulate him without adding “I miss you like mad and I can’t fucking cope”? I wasn’t brave enough to test it, so I put my phone down and prayed the hole in my chest would close.
It wasn’t working. And it was just as well. Nothing had changed. I was still me, and nothing about me was good for someone like Raine.
Dealing with the fallout from M and C and planning our next conquest filled space in my diary, but there was a river of vast nothingness in the unaccounted minutes. I wondered if it had always been there and I simply hadn’t noticed until…Raine.
I thanked the reporter for her time, posed for a photo as per their request, and politely retreated to my office, where I commenced staring at the sunlight dancing on the Thames below me.
Buzz buzz.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you, sir. Gilbert Blower is on the line,” Bernadette said. “He’s insisting to speak with you.”
I furrowed my brow. “What does he want?”
“He wouldn’t say. Shall I ask him to leave a message?”
“No, it’s all right.”
“Are you sure?” Bernadette asked worriedly.
“Aye.”
I stared at the blinking red light for a beat before adjusting my ear piece and pushing the button. “What can I do for you, Gil?”
“Absolutely nothing. I was hoping for a chance to gloat. You didn’t get what you wanted and I must say, it feels incredibly satisfying to put you in your place.” He cackled.
“Right.”
“Your stock is still down five percent, but that’s improvement over the bath you took last week, so you have that going for you.” He tsked. “It took a year to convince my board that you weren’t a good option. But your reputation is good and tattered now. It pleases me more than I can say to play the long game you’re so fond of and win.”
“I bet,” I replied calmly.
He barked an evil sounding laugh. “In a chess match, this, my apprentice, would be checkmate. You’re a survivor, I’ll give you that. I’m sure you’ll come out swinging. In fact…if you were smart, you’d consider countering the American offer for say…an additional five million pounds? The board might approve, and you might save your plummeting stock.”
He really was a complete and utter prick.
I huffed. “Really?”
“Yes, really. The contract hasn’t been signed. You might just wiggle your way in and save the day after all.”
“And erase your thrilling win?”
“Oh, no, I still win. I’m retiring early with more money than I thought I’d rake in from this sale and a few million richer if you renew your offer. I’m going to buy myself a French château and drink Bordeaux all day while you work yourself silly, satisfied in the knowledge you were buggered in a way you wouldn’t quite enjoy.”
More obnoxious cackling. I swiveled to face the city skyline.
“I see. And what happened to the estate in Cornwall?”
“Oh, God. That place is awful,” he scoffed. “It can rot for all I care. You have until the end of today to make a final offer. Call my people, and we’ll consider it.”
Was he nuts? Did it matter?
The maths still worked in my favor. Five million pounds was nothing in transactions of this magnitude. Sure, I hated this man, but if this deal could be salvaged, the markets would approve. Money and goodwill that was lost could be recovered and—
“Fuck yourself.”
He sputtered. “Are you mad? Your reputation is ruined. Your stock is in the tank, and you’re not going to consider an offer to—”
“No, I’m finished with you. I should have been a long time ago, but I mistakenly thought…” I shook my head derisively. “I thought getting even was the prize. It isn’t. You’re simply not worth the effort, Blower.”
I disconnected the call in the midst of a tirade cursing me and “my kind,” and you know, I wanted to call him back to thank him. For the first time in over a week, I felt like I could breathe.
I loosened my tie and stepped into my private lobby.
Bernadette looked up at me with concern. “Everything all right?”
“Of course.”
“What did you say to him?”
“I told him to fuck off,” I replied with a shrug.
Bernadette grinned. “Glad to hear it. Good riddance to bad rubbish.”
“Hmm.” I pulled off my jacket and tie and draped them over a chair in the lobby, then rolled up my sleeves.
“That’s the spirit. Go have a walk to clear your mind. Enjoy the sunshine, sir.”
“Thank you, but…I’m going to look for Raine. Wish me luck.”
Collins dropped me off in front of an Indian takeaway in Kensington and gave a small, encouraging nod when I told him I’d find my way home. I glanced up at the building and realized I had a problem. I had no idea which one was Raine’s. I’d picked him up and dropped him off, but I’d never been inside. I didn’t know his flat number, and it wasn’t on his contact info.