Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“Well,” Blaire says simply, “then don’t.”
Relieved, I crumple down onto the couch. “Okay.”
“I’m really not supposed to be talking about this. Ray paid a shit ton of money to have it scrubbed from Google searches, but I guess the talking heads never forget.” I hear the click of spiked heels against tiled floors, and the soft sound of a door being closed. “So, if someone asks, you didn’t get this from me, but here we go: PISA—it’s an acronym for the program Liam built while he was in school—was only ever meant to monitor inventory across stores,” she says. “It was a great idea, really. The entire goal of it was to reduce food waste.” My chest seizes at this, an inward, protective growl. “But when Ray wanted more ‘transparency in his employees’ activities,’ ” she says, and I hear the leaning air quotes in her words, “Liam did what Daddy said and modified the software to not only track ordering systems, but to log specific keywords in all of the programs, including emails. Kasey was just the start of it.” She hums, as if thinking this through. “Really, Kasey was the most minor of all the cases. But she was the first and went public before they figured out how to keep it under wraps. At the time, it was easier for the stockholders to forgive a reckless teenage boy for being naughty than a CEO for being a letch.”
“So it was never Liam doing this, right?”
“Oh God, no. Liam just handed the program over to IT and went away to college. Ray was the one spying. Ray was the one starting up conversations with employees, making them feel special for becoming friendly with the CEO, and eventually pressuring them to send him photos or share personal information.”
My stomach sinks. “How old was Liam when all this happened?”
“Let’s see. He developed the software when he was fifteen to maybe seventeen? And the scandal broke about three years later. I think he was twenty. Twenty-one. Thereabouts. God, he was gorgeous. All that pent-up—”
“Blaire.”
“Sorry,” she says, and laughs. “He was a minor when he created it, so it’s why his name generally wasn’t used in any of the stories. After Kasey came forward, all hell broke loose behind the scenes. God, the number of lawsuits they must have settled out of court. I can’t even imagine.”
“If they’re settled, why did Ray even do this?”
“Because he’s pissed as hell and a lunatic,” she says, like I’m very stupid. “I bet that fucker dumped a ton of stock so he won’t feel the pain of this in his portfolio, either.”
And I guess I am very stupid, because I cannot fathom a human this petty and terrible. I feel my jaw slowly drop. “I’m sorry, you mean he really did this because he’s mad Liam won’t do what he says?”
“Ray is a first-class narcissist, Anna. Are you just now figuring that out?”
“But Liam is his son.”
Blaire barks out a laugh. “It’s honestly sweet the way you think that matters at all.”
“In most families, it matters a lot,” I reply.
“Janet always says Liam was her thinker. Imagine a boy who, at fifteen, conceives of a system that could be successfully implemented for a NASDAQ-traded company. If I’m honest, I think it intimidated Ray a little. God knows Liam intimidated me.” She lowers her voice. “You’ve seen the way Ray is with the guys. He’s always been like that, thinks he’s toughening them up. It works with Alex, but Liam never fell into line. If you ask me, that’s what Ray hates and respects the most in Liam. He doesn’t bend. And if Liam turned him down for this job?” She whistles.
I look back at the television. The chyron has been updated again—Stanford University releases statement: “Liam Weston is a promising young professor. We are launching a full probe into these allegations.”
What a mess.
I start pacing again. “Why doesn’t Liam just come out and tell the truth? That it was Ray behind all the messages?”
“Because all of the communication was sent from an admin account. Ray can easily shrug and say he’s an old grocery man who doesn’t even know which button turns on the monitor. And Liam did create the software. He did enable the surveillance.”
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“Between you and me,” Blaire says, “I wasn’t one bit surprised when he started that foundation.”
“Oh, right. He mentioned that. What is it exactly?”
“He set up an endowment for Weston employees.”
My gaze locks, unseeing, on the television as I process this. “An endowment?”
“Yeah, so anyone at the company can apply for a grant to take a class, go to college, travel, or purchase a home. Basically, he’s trying to rebuild the culture in his own way, on the outside.” While my mind blanks of everything but overwhelming adoration for Liam, Blaire cups her hand over the phone and hollers out to the kids in the background. When she comes back, she says, “His entire inheritance is going into it. It’s all anonymous, as far as I know, but he’s had IT put the link to the application right on the website. Drives Ray fucking crazy, but of course Ray takes credit for it anyway. We all know it’s Liam.”