Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
I watched him go, feeling the questioning gazes of my colleagues and staff. Once inside the elevator, he fixed his stare on me as the doors closed. I refused to take this on emotionally. Since finishing law school, I’d grown significantly and so had Beau.
Furthermore, Beau understood better than anyone the pressure I placed on myself to provide for him and challenge my father’s expectations. Of course, I knew Chandler was here for a nefarious reason. I’d been planting seeds of disinformation, waiting for Chandler to funnel the data to whomever he was working for, most likely my old man.
I finally turned away to tidy up my lunch and give myself a moment to set my resolve. Old habits took a minute to get past. I had to harden my heart against the deep urge to go after him. I discarded my food in the trash can and headed to my en suite bathroom for some solitude. The heels of my palms pressed against my eyes, shutting out everything except my racing thoughts. There was so much I’d kept from Beau, maybe I shouldn’t have.
Chandler wasn’t just a mole. Without realizing it, he also gave me information I wouldn’t otherwise have about my family. He had told me that my mother was doing everything she could to tarnish Linda’s reputation in the elite circle they all ran in. Fabricating inappropriate stories about her, and the connections they shared. My father’s focus was now on Carter and putting him out of business. If I continued to work with Carter, I was certain there would be a day that I’d go head-to-head with my father’s team of attorneys. With my firm at my back, we’d destroy the Richmond legal team.
My vendetta against my father was reaching new heights. It consumed me day and night, pushing me to be better than the day before. As I turned to stare at my reflection in the mirror, I could tell I was chipping away at my father’s meticulously crafted facade.
In the coming two weeks, I needed to find the right words to sit Beau down and buy myself time to allow Chandler to dig his own grave. The seeds I was planting ensured Chandler would suffer mightily.
18: The Court
Dash/Beau
Dash
The basketball left my hand only to bounce back as I dribbled from the free throw line. Lon was bent over, hands resting on his knees, closer to the net, panting like the old man I teased him about being. At forty years old, that was nothing more than a playful jab. Basketball had never been my forte, but it was Lon’s. He insisted we play, likely due to the way he consistently kicked my butt on the court. I was learning though.
Tonight’s game was as close as the score ever got. I was just one point behind him. He knew my plays by heart. What he didn’t realize was that I had been secretly practicing my three-point shots. This was my one chance to catch him off guard. Did I save it for another time or show off my new skill now?
“Are you just gonna stand there?” Lon asked in a dismissive tone, rising from his ready position.
Yeah. Now was as good a time as any. I positioned and sent the ball flying. The ball flew through the air, arcing in perfect form until it slid through the net. Yes! I jerked my gaze to Lon for his reaction. He stayed rooted in his spot, no attempt to rebound, in utter shock.
“The whole reason to play with you is so that I win,” Lon shot out as if that was a reasonable thought to share aloud with an opponent. “When did that happen?” He waved toward the net to make his question clearer.
“All that matters is that I win,” I responded cockily and left the court, walking with a confident strut across the firm’s rooftop gymnasium.
“So you’ve been working on your game behind my back?” Lon asked. Based on the way his voice faded, Lon was still standing close to the net. “Not very sportsmanlike of you. Did Beau teach you that move?”
Oh, the shit-talking was flying. “Beau probably could have taught me to kick your ass a long time ago, but he didn’t teach me that shot,” I said, spinning around to walk backward to ensure he heard me. “That was all me.”
“Huh,” Lon countered. “Now you’ve played your hand. I’ll be better prepared next time.”
“If there is a next time. I got more from where that came from.” My lie sounded pretty damned convincing even to me.
I pushed through the doors into a room that rivaled any professional sports team’s locker room. There were private showers, which I had used many times after a workout before going home or beginning my day in the morning. I regularly used the state-of-the-art sauna, stored a week’s worth of my wardrobe in the climate controlled storage “lockers”—another perk properly executed by Penny. There were even bedrooms for when a partner’s home life got twisted, much like mine right now, and needed a place to stay.