Game Changing Rules: The Elites Of Weis-Jameson Prep Academy Book 3

by Hart, Rebel

  I feel even worse as we pull up and park. There are at least twenty guys scrambling around in the warehouse which I can see through the open garage doors. They’re assembling equipment as Theo comes running up to our car, wearing a hardhat with a walky-talky in hand.

  “You made it!” he beams as we get out of the car. “Good to see you again, son.” He wraps Emmett up in a hug, slapping his shoulder as if they’re old pals.

  “Son?” I mutter to myself with disgust. I’m sure Emmett thinks nothing of it, but I know it’s a subtle psychological jab. Theo is playing on his lack of a father figure. Even going so far as to make an entire damn car company, just like he inherited from his father before it was taken away.

  “I’m so glad you came,” Theo turns to me with his big, sneaky grin that always makes my stomach turn.

  “Don’t be too glad,” I scoff. “He practically had to drag me here kicking and screaming.”

  They both ignore my comment and start walking inside. The building is massive with big corrugated metal siding and smokestacks up above that remain still and empty for now. There’s a big emblem being raised to the side with a crane, promising what’s to come.

  I follow them through the doors and marvel at the big machines as we go. Emmett grabs a hard hat and hands me one as well. I like seeing him look like some kind of working professional, and he seems comfortable in this environment. For as much as I’ve heard him talk about his father’s business, I’ve never actually gotten to see him in action firsthand.

  What I don’t like is seeing him walking side by side with Theo. One of my biggest fears is that he’s going to get Emmett’s hopes up with all of these big promises about what his company can be. And then the FBI swoops in and shuts the whole thing down. It’s hard to imagine my father pulling off anything legit and legal.

  He ushers us into an office towards the back of the warehouse, which is a lot nicer than I expected. There are two corner offices with a big conference room between them. The carpets are a sleek black, which goes nicely with all of the modern décor and furniture. It’s minimalistic and chic. There are large windows with an impressive view of Jameson as sunlight streams through.

  “This is awfully nice for a start-up,” I mention as we sit down at the big marble tabletop.

  “We have some very generous, optimistic investors,” Theo boasts as he spreads big rolls of paper out before us.

  “Should they be so optimistic?” I say. “Can you actually deliver on the promises you’ve made to everyone wrapped up in this?”

  Theo laughs, looking surprised. “Should I put you in touch with the finance department?” he taunts. “Would you like to see the financial plans?”

  “Yes,” I shoot back coldly, looking at him with dead serious eyes to call him on his sarcastic bluff.

  He straightens up, spreading his hands across the table with an insulted and offended smirk. “Well, I’ll see what I can do,” he answers dismissively.

  “Please do,” I add boldly. “You seem to think Emmett needs to take care of me. So if our futures are going to be depending on this in some way, I think I have a right to know how you’re running things.”

  Emmett shuffles his feet awkwardly, directing his attention back to the plans. “This is what I wanted to show you,” he blurts to break the tension. “This is the machine that will be manufacturing the first model I’ve designed.”

  He points out the different features and how it functions, pointing out the area of the warehouse behind us where it will go. I see his eyes light up with excitement as he talks. Something I’ve only ever seen when we were discussing our plans for the future.

  As they drift off into their own discussion about what still needs to be done, I find myself looking around the office again. There are computers along one wall and printed research about production laying around. There are a number of electronic devices that look super expensive and like something I probably have no idea how to work. Drafting tables line the other wall.

  “Emmett’s been an invaluable asset in getting all of this set up,” Theo brags, slapping him on the shoulder again with a proud smile. “Most of what you see here was his doing.”

  “I thought you were just sketching out a design for a car,” I gape. “I didn’t even know you knew how to do all of this.”

  After the two ramble on about all of the manufacturing plans and designs, we take another walk around the big open warehouse. Theo tells me all about the layout in great detail, and I can’t help but feel slightly impressed. Even if I am still picturing men in black suits swarming the place as they shut it all down.

  The space is open and well-lit, and nowhere near as dirty as I expected it to be. The floor is still scattered with shelving, pallets, hoses, valves, and an assortment of other tools as workers busy themselves with assembling everything. There’s a painting booth and a plethora of safety signs, most not hung up yet.

  Theo leads us up a spiral staircase in the far corner of the warehouse, which goes up to a metal walkway, allowing you to observe everything happening on the production floor below. The two men lean over the edge and look down with hopeful eyes. As skeptical as I am, I can see what they see. I can imagine the hissing and whirring of machinery echoing throughout while supervisors circle the room. There’s already the faint smell of grease and motor oil in the air mixed in with the scents of Styrofoam and all the fresh and shiny things being unpacked.

  After the tour, we go back into the fancy offices. I take a seat at the big table again, unsure of what to say. They’re both so confident and excited, and I hate to burst their bubble. I couldn’t care less about Theo, but I can see now just how much potential Emmett sees in all of this. I just don’t want my father to disappoint him in the same ways he has disappointed me.

  “I bought this just for your visit,” Theo tells us excitedly as he pulls a bottle of champagne out of the mini-fridge.

  I know nothing about champagne, but Emmett reacts strongly to the sight of the bottle. “That’s an awfully nice one,” he says, looking thrown. “You don’t have to open that for us.”

  “You always seem to forget we’re underage,” I remind him, remembering our visit with cocktails when we saw him on our pointless search for Bernadette.

  “Ah,” he grunts and waves. “Who cares about those dumb laws? A little champagne never hurt anyone. Especially when it’s celebratory.”

  I want to remind him of the kind of trouble ignoring rules and laws has got him into before, but I stop myself. Once again, I’m suspended between wanting to take Theo down a few notches and not wanting to spoil everything for Emmett.

  He pops the bottle and pulls out three glasses. Each one fizzes to the top with the hissing, amber liquid as we clink our glasses together. I make a point to cheers with Emmett, avoiding Theo’s glass as much as possible. It may be petty, but that’s what I’m apparently reduced to now.

  “So when does this whole operation officially launch?” I ask after taking a sip of the bittersweet drink. “You’re a lot further along than I expected.”

  “We hope to be up and running by August,” he exhales optimistically.

  “August? Wow,” my voice cracks, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of my lungs. “That’s when I start school. Wherever I start school.”

  Theo doesn’t seem phased by my remark and instead turns to Emmett with a strange look. “There’s something else I wanted to show you while you’re here,” he says. “Come this way.”

  He takes us back to the corner office on the right and starts bragging about everything it has to offer. The view, the mahogany desk, and top of the line office chair. There are sleek, black shelves waiting to be lined with personal items from whoever claims the space.

  Theo pulls out one of the desk drawers and takes a golden plague into his hands. “Ta-da!” he shouts as he slams it to the surface for us to see.

  Engraved into the plaque reads: EMMETT JAMESON - Chief Manufacturing Executive and Senior Design Engineer
r />   “What’s this?” Emmett gasps with wide eyes.

  “Yeah…what the hell is this?” I add sharply.

  “That’s your official title!” he shouts enthusiastically. “And this is your office. If you accept my offer, that is.”

  “O-o-o-ffice?” I stammer. “Office…offer…Emmett, what is he talking about?” I try to forget Theo is even in the room and race over to Emmett, taking his hands in mine. “Why do you need an office here?”

  His head hangs in shame as he shoots an awkward glance back over to Theo. “We only talked about it briefly,” he says quietly. “When I called to set this meeting up.”

  “Talked about what briefly?” I ask urgently.

  “I want Emmett to be my partner,” Theo bellows, as if it’s the greatest offer in the world.

  “Can I talk to you for a moment?” I beg him in a whisper, feeling my throat catch as my eyes start welling up.

  “Of course,” he nods, following me back into the conference room.

  I slam the office door behind us, giving Theo the not so subtle hint to stay in there and give us some privacy.

  “I don’t understand,” I say in disbelief. “Why the hell would you have an office and a job here!? I thought we were leaving Jameson!? It’s all we’ve been talking about for months now!”

  “Calm down. I know. I’m sorry,” he puts his hands on my shoulders. I don’t realize how loud my voice had become until I see him trying to quiet me down. “He only just brought all this up. I wasn’t expecting it. I haven’t even had time to think about it.”

  “He wants you to be his partner in all of this?” I continue, flying into a mad pace across the room. “And some kind of Manufacturing Executive? And a Senior Design Engineer!? Emmett, people go to school for a long time and have degrees for those sorts of things. Doesn’t this seem strange to you? This whole thing. It’s like he’s just trying so hard to sell you on something, and we don’t even know if any of its real or not.”

  “Ophelia, I was going to be an executive of a car company before,” he defends. “I’ve been preparing for this kind of career my whole life. It’s the only thing I know how to do. I probably know more about this stuff than most guys with degrees do. And what I don’t know already…I can learn as I go.”

  “So, you’re actually considering this!?” My eyes bulge out with rage.

  “Maybe,” he shrugs. “I don’t know, okay? It’s all happening so fast. I just need you to calm down and give me some time to process it.”

  “Exactly! It’s happening too fast! Faster than things like this should happen if they’re being done properly,” I rave. “Theo has no fucking idea what he’s doing here!” I hold back from saying I’m worried Emmett doesn’t either. As far as I know, his father prepared him for a life behind a desk in the Jameson manor, signing papers and making calls, but mostly letting everyone else do the work while he reigned in the profits.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he glares at me. “You’re thinking I’m not qualified for this.”

  I look away, trying not to blurt out how right he is.

  “I know a lot more than you think I do, Ophelia,” he says disappointedly. “I didn’t want to do things the way my father did. I wanted to be a valuable part of Jameson Automobiles, so I prepared accordingly.”

  “But designing cars?” I ask, wishing I was more convinced. “Managing and supervising all these people? This whole operation? Are you sure that’s the kind of thing you’re prepared to do?”

  “I like that it’s more hands-on,” he tells me, putting his hands over my shoulders again as his voice softens. “I want to be a part of this, if that’s what I decide. To actually do something. Not just wear a suit and make millions for nothing.”

  I shake my head, wishing I didn’t sympathize with him so much at this moment. I want it all to be a sham. I want him to see through it, and I want him to think there’s something off about it. But no matter how hard I try; I can’t seem to make anyone see Theo the way that I do.

  “I am not staying in Jameson,” I fume, not knowing what other points I can argue on right now. “You want to go into business with him, fine. But I won’t stay in this hell hole. And frankly, I don’t think you should either. There’s a reason he picked this place to start this in, and whatever it is I don’t think it’s good.”

  “You don’t have to,” he assures me. “We’ll figure it out, okay? What about that school that’s just a couple hours away? Didn’t Granger say that was one of your best options?”

  “Didn’t you say I should pick whatever college I wanted without worrying about you!?” I bark.

  “You’re right,” he recoils slightly, pulling me into his chest.

  I push myself against him, urging him to tighten his arms. I need to feel him around me right now to feel safe. Like everything I’d imagined isn’t crumbling around me. All of our plans. Everything we’ve been dreaming about. It all seems more impossible than ever. I can’t stay in Jameson, but the thought of leaving Emmett behind here makes me want to burst into tears.

  “Can we go now?” I ask suddenly. “I’m exhausted.”

  “Sure. Let’s just say goodbye to Theo.”

  “Can you just give me the keys!?” I spread out my palm to him. “I don’t want to see him again right now. I’ll wait in the car.”

  The moment he hands them over I bolt for the door. As open as the building is, it suddenly seems suffocating and claustrophobic. I want to get out of there as fast as I possibly can. I race to the car and get inside, locking the doors until Emmett comes out.

  Hot tears stream down my face as I wait. It wasn’t enough for Theo to be absent my whole life and then nearly get me killed when he showed up for his own personal gain and vengeance. He had to weasel his way back into our family, and now he’s ripping the man I love away from me. I can’t help but think it’s on purpose. Like he’d do anything to hurt me, but I just can’t understand why. I don’t think I’ve ever hated Theo more.

  18

  Chapter Eighteen

  I’m curled up in a ball next to my mom on the couch watching some ridiculous romantic comedy she picked out. I watch the couple on the screen, thinking everything seems so simple and clean. No matter what scandal arises or shenanigans they get into, it’s oddly normal yet completely unfamiliar to me. I see nothing of Emmett and me in any of the couples in these movies my mom likes to watch. But I go along with it because I know it’s close to what she and Brendan have.

  The men in these movies have never humiliated their dates or shoved them up against walls, threatening them. Sure, maybe that’s a distant part of our past. But it’s there. And as for what we face now…I don’t see them fretting over an estranged, corrupt father figure showing up out of nowhere and threatening to rip them apart.

  I start to chew on what’s left of my thumbnail as I come face to face with the reminder of the last time I remember feeling this way about these dumb movies. I sat on Malcolm’s couch just before he tried to force himself on me and I lamented over why my life couldn’t be this simple.

  “You okay?” my mom asks.

  I jump slightly and look over to see her staring me down with worry lines cutting across her forehead.

  “Yes, fine,” I answer quickly. “But I guess I should start getting ready. Emmett is taking me out tonight.”

  “Another date night, huh?” she teases. “What are you two going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrug as I peel myself off the couch, almost wishing I didn’t have to get up. “He says it’s a surprise. I just hope it’s not bowling.”

  “Well, don’t make plans tomorrow night,” she requests with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m taking you dress shopping. We need some mother-daughter bonding time and prom will be here before you know it.”

  “Sounds great, Mom,” I smile. “Looking forward to it.”

  I head for the stairs, thinking how excited I really am. Only these days less so about prom, and more so for graduation and getti
ng the hell out of this place. But I’m still filled with resentment that it’s all threatened now by the very real possibility that leaving Jameson might mean leaving Emmett.

  I check my phone before hopping into the shower and see that Emmett has texted me. He asked if I could wear the red dress with a winking smiley face. I smirk, feeling amused that he must think that’s the only dress I own.

  “Boy, have I got a surprise for you,” I muse to myself out loud as I picture the black velvet stringy number hanging even further back in my closet. We bought it for some awards ceremony, but it’s about time to take it out on the town for something fun.

  After showering, I spritz on some perfume and slide into the soft dress, pairing it with the only pair of heels I own. I’ve dressed up more times lately than over the past four years combined, but maybe I can just chalk it up as practice for prom. And maybe, just maybe, seeing this new vixen side of me emerge, Emmett will have no choice but to follow me away from here for college. That may be a long shot, but I’ll take whatever hopes I can get my hands on for now.

  He’s waiting for me downstairs by the time I’m finished getting ready. I watch from around the corner for a moment as he talks to my mom and Brendan. He sure has worked his magic on them considering how much they used to hate him, but I guess I can say the same for myself.

  “Hey,” I announce finally as I enter the room.

  Emmett’s eyes grow wide when he sees me, but he blushes and clears his throat with a quick glance at Brendan. “You ready?” he asks, not wanting to start flipping out over how good I look right here in front of my parents.

  “Yeah,” I smile as he leads me to the front door.