Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
My heart is thumping. “You base this conclusion on what, exactly?”
Scott leans forward and smirks. “Based on what I saw you pull off at Wayne Walters’ ranch.” He chuckles. “That’s when I knew you’re finally willing to do whatever it takes to get ahead. Bravo, Max. It’s about time.”
I’m baffled, and I’m sure my face shows it. I haven’t told Scott the truth about Marnie and me yet. I haven’t told anyone. I know Mom told her sisters and best friends so they’d stop pestering her about the wedding, but Scott isn’t friends with Mom. Did Mom tell Scott’s wife? I guess it’s possible, but I can’t fathom it, since they’re not close friends.
Scott chuckles. “Come on, Max. You can cut the bullshit now.” He leans forward again. “I know.”
My stomach tightens. “You know what?”
“The truth about you and your fake fiancée.”
My breathing hitches. Fuck.
“It’s okay, Max. I’ll never tell Wayne the truth. Hell no. Like I said, his measuring stick is very different than mine, and I don’t think he’d appreciate your brilliant maneuvering the way I do. I personally thought your fake engagement was a stroke of fucking brilliance—a sign you’re finally willing to be ruthless. I think what you did was admirable; but I don’t think Wayne, and especially his wife, would react quite the same way.” Scott shakes his head and laughs. “All these years, I’ve watched you working your ass off, while everyone around you was working smarter, not harder. I’ve watched you picking up work for your colleagues when they wanted to go on a vacation or to their kid’s soccer game. You even picked up the slack for Shelby last year when she went to Wayne Walters’ ranch—when you should have been sabotaging her to get her slot!”
“Sabotaging her?” I breathe out. I can’t believe my ears. This is my boss saying this shit? My boss is putting me down for being a diehard team player—for putting our clients’ needs above my own ambitions? I’m beyond shell-shocked. I’m utterly stupefied.
Scott continues, “Year after year, I’ve watched you putting in the hours, and helping your friends, when what you should have been doing was stepping on a fucking neck.” He smiles broadly, like a proud poppa. “And then, suddenly, there you were at family camp, lying your ass off and stepping on a neck like a goddamned assassin. Good for you, Max. Good for you.”
I feel like I’m going to barf. I hang my head and choke out, “How’d you figure me out?”
“Come on, son. I’ve known you for almost seven years. You overplayed your hand.” When I look at him blankly, Scott adds, “The Max I know isn’t capable of being as happy as you pretended to be at camp. Also, I’ve never once heard you talk about Marnie, or seen a photo of her on your desk or as the lock screen on your phone; and suddenly, you can’t stop making googly eyes with your supposed fiancée and fawning all over your soon-to-be stepdaughter? Despite all that, I still wasn’t positive my suspicions were correct the first few days. But then, you went overboard with that three-legged race, and I knew. That’s when I was sure it couldn’t be real. You’re simply not capable of being that big a goofball for real.”
I’m barely able to breathe, let alone speak, through the stampeding of my heart.
Scott continues, “Just to be sure, though, when we got back from Wyoming, I talked to your secretary, and she confirmed Marnie had never once called your office landline, looking for you. She confirmed you’d never once mentioned Marnie or asked her to send flowers. And that’s when I knew, without a doubt, I’d figured you out.” He chuckles. “But since I’m not a man who leaves anything to chance, I invited your father to drinks last night, and he confirmed what I already knew. It took a while for him to rat you out; I had to walk him through my entire thought process before he’d finally do it, but he finally gave you up.” Laughing, Scott shakes his head. “I think the most impressive thing is that you knew my wife would see your mother’s post and tell me about it, and that I’d then tell Wayne about it. I’m sure you felt like a family camp invitation was a long shot, but you pulled it off. Yes, you got a bit lucky, in terms of the dominoes falling right; but you made that luck. That’s what I told the partnership committee, when they pushed back a bit. I said, ‘The kid’s a Machiavellian genius. A killer. He’s one of us.’ Finally, I was able to say that about you, with confidence, and recommend your name, above all others, for the first time. And in the end, they all agreed with me.”