“On it.”
In the twenty-second email from the top, I see a headline in the subject line. “Billionaire’s Father Accused of Embezzlement.” My heart starts pounding as I double click on the email. I make it to the fourth line of the blog post from a major news outlet before I call Gabe.
On a cold winter morning in December, Duncan Kerr was enjoying a privileged life as a top manager at Lionheart Partners Ltd. By the end of March he’d be dead. Doctors’ reports identify the cause as a heart attack, but sources close to him hint at something more tragic. The cause of death is a mystery, but some point to whispers of embezzlement that plagued Kerr on his way out. Those rumors are now gaining velocity as the current CEO of Kerr Inc. is purportedly accused of engaging in the same self-dealing that may have brought his father down so many years ago.
“I want to meet with the editor,” I bark out.
“They aren’t going to name their source,” Gabe says. I can tell by his clipped speech that he’s read the article too.
“We already know the source. I want them to know we are suing them for libel. Whispers of embezzlement? They’re defaming both my father and myself.”
“It’s a blog. We’ll get them to take it down today under threat of a lawsuit.” This time even Gabe’s steady tones aren’t soothing me. I slam my hand down hard on my desk.
“Are you f**king kidding? We aren’t going to threaten them. We need to sue them. The damage is already done,” I thunder to him.
“A defamation suit will take years,” Gabe roars back. “If you want to do something now, then you need to take your f**king gloves off. Cecilia has to know she sleeps with a snake. It’s her responsibility to remove herself from that situation. She’s not your mother.”
The blood is pounding in my ears, and my hand f**king hurts. I look down and see that I’ve broken the hinges on my laptop and the LCD screen is cracked and ugly. Idly, I lift my hand and see blood on the palm. For years I’ve tried to avoid collateral damage by not going after Howe as hard as I could. But now he was dragging up the ghosts of the past. He was affecting my future and placing Tiny—my heart—in danger. So yeah, the gloves were off. Everyone standing with Howe is going to either sink with his ship or jump off.
“Consider it done. Pull in Jake. Let’s review all the information. I’ve got their debts. I want to start placing pressure at every point. Call in the mortgage, repossess their boat. I want their credit denied all over the city. Let’s topple this motherfucker once and for all.” I slam down my phone and throw open my office door.
Outside is Frank, his assistant Lucy, and two racks of clothes. Shit.
“Rose,” I bark. “I need a bandage.” I hold up my hand for her to see and she jumps up, scurrying out of the office. Turning back to Frank, I ask, “What the hell are you doing here with all that shit?”
Frank ignores my question but instead just wheels in his two racks of dresses. Inside the office, he turns, places his hands on his hips and says, “We have an appointment.”
“I don’t care,” I shake my head. “I don’t have time for this. Get out. Please,” I add to soften the blow.
Rose rushes in with a washcloth, tape, and a big bandage. I let her fix me up with one hand while I use the other to scroll through my messages. More are coming in by the minute. I halt at one and reply back to the interview request.
Yes. Will talk. Call office for appt.
I copy Gabe on the email and press send. Frank is still standing there.
“What?” I ask sharply. “I told you I don’t have time.”
He puts up his palm to me. “The Frick Ball is this weekend. You’ve put me off for two weeks now. You either see me now or Tiny goes to her first public event looking like a castaway. Is that really the image you want to be portraying right now?”
“Who’s this?” I jerk my head toward his male companion who can’t be more than twenty something.
“He’s my assistant.” Frank frowns.
“He can’t go in.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re it, and I tell you it takes a superhuman effort to be okay with that.”
“He’s g*y. Gayer than the rainbow. He probably farts glitter, don’t you, Phillip?”
Phillip looks wide-eyed and nods in agreement.
“No.” I’m implacable.
“I can’t work under these conditions.” Frank turns and rattles the metal clothes rack.
“Then I guess well be hiring a new stylist.”
“Oh for god’s sake, Ian. She’s got the same bits as anyone else.”
“Her bits belong to me, and no other man than you and me is ever going to be looking at them without clothes on.”
“Fine. Fine.” He waves Phillip into a chair and hauls the racks and other shit into the office.
I shut the door when the phone rings again. It’s one of my board members, Paul Tazo. Paul has been on the board since Kerr Inc. started. I owe that man a lot, and if there’s anyone I respect and look up to, it’s him. He owned a small brokerage business in New Jersey and took a chance on me when I was hustling small time illegal shit. Now he’s rolling in cash, in large part because of my success, but I still listen when he talks.
“Kerr, my boy.” His voice is subdued. “We’re going to have to call an emergency meeting. I have no doubt you have an answer for what is happening, but the others are anxious.”
Jake, who has been recently appointed, and Kaga sit on the board. With me, that’s three votes. There are nine board members. I’ll need to swing two to my side. I’d like to think that one vote will be Paul’s, but I’m not going to count on it.
“Of course. Thank you for calling. Get with Rose and we’ll schedule something this week.”
“I knew you would respond this way. I told the others you would, but they were concerned you would try to delay it.”
“There’s no need to delay,” I lie. A delay would be great. I’m bleeding money now. First to buy up shares of Kerr Inc. Then exerting the financial pressure to make sure that the Howes are denied credit. And now I’m going to have to buy out at least two—if not more—board members in order to salvage my own company.
But first things first. I need to call Tiny to tell her that she needs to shuttle her ass downtown to try on dresses. I’m sure she’ll love that.