by Jillian Dodd
He’s been busy trying to keep his company afloat and pushing everyone to find his Lacy, he’s barely had time for anything else, so when Bobby says, “Holy shit, dude. I almost forgot what’s on tonight!”
He flips on the television just as a girl wearing angel wings and very little else glides down a runway. A few moments later, there’s a commercial break, causing Bobby to sigh, but when the extended movie trailer is coming up next, he takes a pull off his beer and sits back down, directly in front of the screen.
“Dude, I can’t wait to see this.”
Vincent stands up, not sure he wants to see this. Not sure he’ll be able to control his reaction. Rage is already seeping through him at the thought of it.
It starts with Abby as a brunette. She looks different than Lacy. Maybe it won’t be so bad.
But the scenes that follow disturb him. Screwing a strange man in a dark alley. Lacy’s body parts. Full lips. Sensual hips. Her entire naked form barely concealed under a sheet. Sex. Men. Sex. Men. Sex.
“I have to go,” Vincent says raggedly, barely making it out the door before he bursts.
He looks down at his slacks and feels the sticky release in them.
And it makes him even madder.
He drives straight to the airport and charters a flight to Vancouver. He’s going to get that bitch and make her pay. Tonight.
The following day, Cooper calls Keatyn to his office.
Opening the door to Cooper’s office, I take a deep breath and steel myself for whatever bad news he’s about to give me.
But when I sit down, he’s grinning.
“What’s going on?”
“I decided not to wait for Garrett. I got a friend of mine to talk to Vincent’s assistant last night. Most of it’s boring bar conversation, but there’s part of it that might be something. I want you to listen.”
“Have you heard anything from Garrett? Did they all make it to France okay?”
“Yes, actually. I got a text from him a few minutes ago. He said all is good.”
“Thank goodness.”
“Okay, here goes,” he says, and presses play.
“My boss? Oh, don’t get me started. He’s always been really demanding, but now he’s almost unbearable. He’s obsessed with some girl he saw in a club. Wants her to star in this film we’re producing. You’ve probably heard about it. The nationwide search for the next Abby Johnston.”
“Sorry, I haven’t.”
“Oh, well, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I scheduled a business dinner he’s been on me about setting up. With their schedules, it was literally the only night I could make it happen in the next two months. When I posted the date on his calendar, he was furious. Started yelling at me about how I should know he has plans every Thursday night.”
I hear her drinking, a mug hitting the bar, and a voice saying, Another round?
She replies, Please.
“Do you want to know what stupid thing he does every Thursday night he’s in town?”
“Uh, sure.”
“He goes back to the club where he first saw her.”
“Club? What is she, a stripper?”
“No, it’s a dance club. Some bar with no name.”
“The Bar With No Name is the name of the club?”
“No, it literally has no name. One of those places where only the rich and pretty people get in. Or even know about.”
“The Side Door,” I whisper.
Cooper hits pause. “So now you know where he’s going to be tomorrow night. What’s the rest of—” He stops, squints his eyes, then continues. “The rest of the stretching plan? Go change, and I’ll meet you in training room.”
While I’m changing, I remember the first time I met Garrett. It was the day Vincent put the note in Avery’s backpack, and he asked about my habits.
“Are there times you go places by yourself?” Garrett asked me.
“Um, I guess I drive to school by myself and dance class, but that’s about it.”
“You’re supposed to go to the club later tonight,” Tommy reminded.
“Yeah, but I’m going with Cush.”
Mom and Tommy both looked at Garrett.
He said, “I think it’s fine if you’re not alone. Are you picking him up or is he coming here?”
“I was going to pick him up.”
“Let’s have a tail on her just to be safe.”
“Uh, I don’t want some old guy in the club with us.”
“It won’t be some old guy, and he won’t follow you into the club. He’ll sit outside, watch Tommy’s car, and follow you home after you drop off your friend.”
“It’s either that or you don’t go,” Tommy said sternly.
Vincent must have followed me to the club that night. And it may have been just dumb luck that he ran into Vanessa and RiAnne there after I’d left.
In the training room, Cooper pats the table. “Lie on your back,” he says loudly, but then he whispers, “The dean is wandering around.”
I lie on the table. Cooper pulls my legs so that my butt is down toward the end of it. He pushes one of my legs straight up in the air, letting it rest on his shoulder as he leans his shoulder into the back of my thigh.
“Try to keep your knee straight,” he says. “I’ll gently push your leg toward your chest until it hurts. Then I want you to push back against me hard.”
“And you thought having me in this position would put his mind at ease?” I whisper.
He ignores me. “If you have a friend who could help you stretch before you go to bed, that would help too.”
Now I see why Aiden offered to help me stretch. Cooper’s practically lying on top of me.
My leg starts to shake, so I push back hard against his shoulder.
After pressing for a few seconds, he says, “Stop,” then gently pushes my leg again. I’m surprised that it easily goes farther than it did before.
He stretches my other leg and then says, “I’m going to get you a heat wrap.”
He leaves, comes back with a warm wrap, and says, “Okay, he’s gone. Come back here.”
He leads me into a supply room. “Tell me about The Side Door.”
“It’s where he tried to kidnap me,” I say simply. “Tomorrow night, I’m going back there.”
“What?! No, you’re not.”
“This is the part where you’re going to earn that raise.”
“Are you nuts?”
“No. I want him to think I’m back home, so he’ll stay far away from B and my family.”
Cooper keeps shaking his head.
“I’ll take care of our flight. Let’s plan on leaving here at six.”
“Fine. I think it would be best if everyone thinks I’m still here, since you’re signing out. I’m going to hide in the back of your car, okay?”
“Yeah, that sounds smart.”
Later that night, I flip open my screen to find B waiting for me.
He looks upset. Or pissed at me, I’m not sure.
“Hey. You doing okay?”
“Yeah,” he replies, but I don’t believe him. Something’s off.
“Did something happen?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Oh, good. I’m kinda nervous about this call. I know nothing about this stuff.”
“Me either. That’s why I set you up with Michael. So, conference him in, then I’ll introduce you and let you two talk.”
“Wait? What? You’re not staying on the call?”
“There’s really no reason to.”
“Yes there is! I can’t do this without you.”
“Look, finance is not something I really give a shit about and I don’t care to learn. As long as I have my board, I’m happy.”
“We’ve had that conversation before, B. It was bullshit then and it’s bullshit now.”
“Whatever. I’m traveling and I have to practice. I don’t have time for it. Do you still want me to introduce you or what?”
I push b
ack tears and force myself to stay calm. “Yes, please.”
B goes, “Hey, Michael. Keatyn is on the line, so I’ll let you take it from here.”
Then there’s a little beep indicating that he left the call.
Michael is talking, listing his qualifications, but I’m looking at B. He gives me a sad smile, a little finger wave, and then logs off.
“So, a hostile takeover—how long will it take?” I ask Michael, trying to cut to the chase. I mean, I’m assuming it’s not really that hard to buy a company.
“Let’s talk about whether it’s even possible first.”
“What do you mean? Of course it’s possible. He’s, like, leveraged, right? And that’s bad.”
“Yes, he is. The company is ripe for a takeover, but you have to be able to make it happen.”
“And how do I do that?”
“You offer to buy his investors out. If enough people sell, then you end up with the majority of the stock, which means you control the company. That’s what you want, right?”
“Yes. Are there any other benefits?”
“Well, the obvious one would be that you vote the current Chairman of the Board out of office.”
“Is Vin, um, Mr. Sharpe the chairman?”
“Yes, he is.”
“That’s perfect. I want to do both. Buy them out and appoint someone else. What will it cost?”
“That all depends on what his stockholders want. I’m emailing you a simple document so you can follow along.” The way he says “simple” makes it sound like he thinks I don’t have a clue.
I mean, I don’t. But still, I’m not loving his attitude.
I don’t say anything, though, because I desperately need his help.
“I have the email,” I tell him, pulling the document up on my computer.
“His company isn’t publicly traded, so it’s hard to get financial information. The numbers you see are what I believe it to be worth. And, from the digging I did as a favor to Mr. Wright, I have a list of investors along with their initial investments. Those are below. Do you see them?”
“Yes.”
“The next document shows the company’s liabilities. And the next is Mr. Sharpe’s balance statement.”
I scroll through page after page of spreadsheets, trying to keep up. “Uh, huh.”
“As you can see, his asset to debt ratio is very high.”
“Okay. And why is that important?”
“That ratio refers to his liquidity. He’s borrowed money on all of his assets, meaning he won’t be able to personally fight a hostile takeover. From on-the-ground intel, he’s invested a lot of money in a single movie and is betting the farm that it’s going to be a blockbuster.”
Mom’s movie could financially ruin him?
Wouldn’t that be poetic justice?
“But, as you can see from the figures on the last page, acquiring this company will take a substantial amount of capital.”
I look at the very big number on the last page. One that would require more than my entire trust. I think about the scholarship check I just wrote.
For a second, I reconsider it.
I quickly shake my head, clearing the thought. I can’t take it back and I don’t want to.
Besides, B promised his trust to help.
I’ll be fine.
“How do you plan to raise these funds?”
“Well, I have my trust fund, and Brooklyn said we could use his for whatever I’m short.”
“That’s what I thought. Unfortunately, Brooklyn doesn’t have control of his trust, nor will his father authorize the early release of any funds. So, unless you can arrange financing, there’s nothing further to discuss.”
This is why B didn’t want to be on the call.
Freaking chicken shit.
“I can get the money,” I say quickly.
“And how is a seventeen-year-old going to do that?” he asks condescendingly.
“I don’t know exactly,” I admit quietly.
“That’s what I figured.”
I bite my tongue, thank him for his time, and hang up.
I set the phone down in my lap, feeling paralyzed, like I’m lost at sea with no land in sight.
How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to win without B’s help?
I can’t.
That means prong two of my attack is out, which blows my whole plan to smithereens.
Damnit!
He has to help me. He promised! This was his idea!
I call him.
He doesn’t answer.
I hang up and call again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
I keep punching the button over and over.
By the time he finally answers, I’m pissed and crying frustrated tears.
“You should have told me yourself if you didn’t want to help me! I can’t believe you would bail on me like this! I need you!”
“This hasn’t exactly been easy on me. I’ve gotten shit from every direction for what I said about you. God, it was spur of the moment! I am grateful that you encouraged me! And I care about you. I wanted to help. My dad was willing to help, but he freaked the fuck out yesterday when he heard about the photo. Told me if I have anything to do with you it will jeopardize everything we’ve worked so hard for. My career. My future. He trashed the takeover idea. Said it was like poking the hornet’s nest. Said I can’t use my trust. So, I’m sorry, but my hands are tied. And, come on, don’t I get some credit for what I’ve already done? Michael did all sorts of research.”
“You should’ve had the guts to tell me yourself. And without your help I don’t have enough money to go through with it anyway! My plan—no, your plan—is ruined.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You just don’t get it!” I yell. And as soon as I say the words, I know they’re true. I realize that’s exactly the problem. Other than one horrible picture, B’s life hasn’t changed much. He’s not in hiding. He’s living his dream.
“What don’t I get?”
I calm down and use my bitch voice, hoping I can scare him into seeing how important this is. “Every move you make is on the internet, Brooklyn. The tour schedules. The photos. You might think you can just bow out, but you can’t. You screwed yourself when you thanked me. And that means she’s in danger too.”
“Don’t give me a guilt trip. I know you’re seeing someone too.”
“Yeah, but the difference is, I’m somewhere safe. You’re not.”
I hang up on him.
And feel very alone.
The next day, Vincent flies back home—alone. The house the whore was living in has been emptied out. She’s gone. No one seems to know where she’s gone, but he vows to find her. To make her pay for what she’s done. It’s a Thursday, though. All he knows is he will definitely be going to the club. And if Keatyn’s friends are there, he’s going to take one of them. He’s had some fun with Vanessa before. He’s questioned her about Keatyn. The time for subtlety is over. He’ll kill everyone in his way if he has to.
Keatyn takes action in case her future doesn’t go as planned. And then she and Cooper leave school.
Before French starts, I send Sam an email with the changes I want made to my will. The most important change being that if something happens to me, Mom, and Tommy then Damian becomes executor and makes sure my sisters are well taken care of. I also noted the changes I told Cooper about. Taking care of his family if something happens to us both, as well as what to do if I die but Cooper doesn’t.
I notice an email from Tommy labeled Top Secret.
-Your mom told me everything. All the things she’s been keeping from me. How scared she’s been. You know, I’ve been wanting to ask her to marry me for a while now, and I think it’s time. A reaffirmation of our love. She won’t want to get married until we can all be together, but I need her to know that I want her to be my wife more than anything.
So, attached are four ring designs. I have no idea which one to choose.
Help!
P.S. The good news: Your mom and the girls are safely moved. The bad news: Bad Kiki came to NY with me.
After signing out, I drive through the gates of Eastbrooke, down the long drive, and out onto the highway.
Cooper pops up from the back seat, where he was hiding under a blanket, and slides into the passenger seat next to me.
“Brooklyn totally bailed on me last night. His dad decided he can’t use his trust to help me buy Vincent’s company, and he didn’t even have the guts to tell me himself. He let the buyout guy tell me instead. That guy was a dick, too. Treated me like I didn’t have a clue—or the money—to do a buyout.”
“Do you have either?” Cooper asks.
“A clue? Not really. About the money, sorta, but not quite. I was really upset last night, but Aiden came over . . .”
“Kissed it and made it better?”
“He did make me feel better, for sure. But just when I thought prong two of our plan was history, he mentioned my grandpa. And a lightbulb went on in my head. I’m going to call him now.”
Cooper nods.
I tell my car to dial Grandpa’s cell.
His booming voice fills my speakers. “Well, howdy, hotshot.”
“Hey, Grandpa. Do you have a minute? I need some help.”
“Of course, I do,” he says loudly then whispers, “It’s good timing, actually. If I talk to you, I won’t have to help your grandma with the dishes.”
“I heard that,” Grandma yells in the background.
Grandpa chuckles. “So, shoot.”
“Do you know much about hostile takeovers?”
“I’d say so. We bought out fourteen companies over the years and none of them were particularly friendly.”
