Cameron's Contract

by Vanessa Fewings

  Despite all of it—

  Empires falling, enemies taking aim and sealing our fate—Mia outshone all those falsehoods, those desperate men who’d failed to learn what it was to truly love. To find peace in the center of a storm.

  We came together and collapsed together, our body’s spotted in perspiration and heated from all this tussling, our fucking the purist form of any bondage.

  My body yearned for sleep but didn’t find it. I was too tired to let go.

  My only comfort was Mia laying her head on my chest, her leg flung over me, breathing softly as she slipped into sleep. I didn’t move for fear of waking her. Instead I stared up at the ceiling, running through the last few days and re-living them until I’d improved on my strategy and fooled myself I’d won out.

  I’d been working in the dark, moving forward in an unfamiliar world, and unlike the science based career I’d chosen, business was full of trap doors and secrets and misdirection.

  “What did you say earlier?” I whispered.

  “About your cage.”

  I grinned. “The contract—” I eased away from her and climbed out of bed and it felt wrong to leave her side.

  I padded out to retrieve the document.

  When I came back, Mia was stretching languidly, showing a hint of nipple.

  The brilliance of a woman.

  I slammed the contract on the side table. “Mia, you’re a fucking genius.”

  She sat up. “Must be rubbing off, Dr. Cole.”

  I rested my hand on the contract. “It was never in here.”

  CHAPTER 20

  THE COMPUTER STILL worked.

  Which was a small miracle. After rescuing it from the floor, I plugged it back in and fired it up.

  Having only slipped on my pants, too excited to dress, I felt the chill of this place. Mia was brewing coffee and the delicious aroma filled my nostrils.

  A rush of adrenaline drove me on as I clicked through the emails of my father’s late attorney, Dan Stork. I used the keyboard’s control and F-key to search for keywords in each one to speed up the process.

  My heart thundered.

  I found it.

  The world around me disappeared as the last remnants of my focus took in the small print.

  The members of the board’s days were numbered.

  Dan Stork had placed a link to an addendum within the contract, thus leaving out the jargon that defined the terms of the board. He’d sent the details via email and masterfully camouflaged it from every member. These men received hundreds of emails a day and therefore left their assistants to troll through the minutia.

  Everyone had missed the fine print tucked in-between the minutes taken during a meeting they’d attended, and thus thought nothing of signing what they had already read. They’d signed the email electronically, sealing their fate.

  I re-read Dan’s legal spiel, cunningly designed to bore the reader and throw them off the scent of what they were actually signing:

  Should sole means of operational status be obtained by any single member of the board, all members will be held accountable for such action. The resulting consequence shall be immediate and resolute dissolution of their heretofore granted right to function and proceed as a member of said board.

  Stork had hidden the content between the number of charity functions planned out for the year. My dad had always told us to read the small print, and even he hadn’t taken his own advice. Luckily for Dad, Stork had been his loyal attorney and friend, and even from the grave he’d proven that.

  Stork had inserted an ingenious defensive tactic. A paradox of power. The definitive poison pill. One that gave Dad the power to swing the axe or choose leniency.

  And they’d signed off on it. I forwarded what I’d found in an email to Dad, and then left a voicemail for his assistant to schedule another meeting.

  This document had bought us time.

  Half in a daze, I slid my mouse over to the Dow and then went in search of the current state of my stock.

  It didn’t make any sense.

  My personal shares were decimated.

  “Destiny-Horizon. It’s skyrocketing,” Richard had told me.

  But the numbers reflected the shares had taken a hit and were now worthless.

  I rose to my feet—

  Reaching for the mouse again, I refreshed the screen.

  Staggering back—

  Disbelief.

  My legs went weak, and my gait was unsteady as I knocked into the chair and tipped it over.

  I barely made it to the restroom. There, I leaned over the sink and retched into it. Bile rose as my stomach twisted and convulsed.

  The dreadful taste.

  My reflection in the mirror revealed a man who’d pushed himself to the edge and beyond. Dark circles wreathed beneath my eyes and my face was pallid.

  My money was gone. All of it. The funds once entrusted to me by my father, and earned with pride over generations who’d gone before me, was no more.

  I rinsed out my mouth with shaking hands, dizzy from the realization everything had come crashing down. What had gone wrong? I’d moved the chess pieces, masterminding the plan that had always been destined to implode.

  The architect of my own downfall.

  Unsteadily, I walked back into the office and found my phone. My fingers struggled to still long enough to scroll for his number.

  “Cole?” answered Richard. “’Bout time. Where are you?”

  “Tempest Tower,” I said weakly. “My dad’s signing over the company.”

  “What? Why?”

  I leaned on the back of a chair for support.

  “Cameron, are you okay?”

  “Are you enjoying this?”

  “What the fuck? Is Mia there? Put her on.”

  “Is this about her?” My voice sounded foreign, forced.

  “I knew you’d never give her back.”

  “I can’t breathe without her.” My back hit the wall and I slid down it, clutching the phone to my ear. “Did you do this on purpose?” Even as I spoke those words, I didn’t believe them, couldn’t comprehend I’d not seen this coming.

  Blinded by love, exhaustion, the madness of pride. The raw truth that love took down kingdoms. I’d always known that.

  I’d done the unspeakable to my best friend and my arrogance had made me believe there’d be no consequences.

  Can’t think straight. I struggled to hold a thought.

  “I just hope you’re willing to live with the consequences,” said Richard. “Don’t blame me when your life is turned upside down.”

  I threw my phone across the room and it bounced off the table, the screen shattering.

  I still couldn’t hate him, though it was easy to curse myself for giving him the power to destroy me. The one man who I’d let get close and the last person I’d believed could hurt me.

  No air in here.

  The lack of oxygen grew all-consuming as I tried to remember what it was to breathe.

  What day? What time? What place was this?

  A blur of movement.

  Mia hurried in and she’d pulled on one of my shirts. She waved her cell in the air. “Richard’s trying to call you.” She looked around. “Where’s yours?”

  “Hang up.”

  “He says it’s important.”

  “Richard’s wallowing in my downfall.”

  “He wouldn’t do that.” She knelt before me and pushed her phone at me. “He’s on the line.”

  I grabbed her phone and threw it across the room and it bounced off the carpet and landed under the table.

  “Cameron?” She ran after it and went on all fours to retrieve it, dragging it out and pressing it to her ear. “Hello? Please tell Cameron to get some sleep. He’s exhausted. Richard, please, he listens to you.”

  I had listened to him, trusted him.

  A surge of anger washed over me and I pushed myself to my feet, gesturing for the phone.

  Mia handed it to me.

&nb
sp; “Richard?” I said.

  “When was the last time you got any sleep?” he said.

  “It was never about the money,” I snapped. “It was about a greater purpose. And if this is your way of getting me to realize how much I love Mia, well bravo, Richard Booth Sheppard. She’s worth more to me than anyone will ever know. I never meant to hurt you. I’ve told you that a thousand times. I’ve begged for your forgiveness. Know this—I will not give her up. Ever.”

  More empires could fall for all I cared.

  Mia would always be mine.

  Richard scoffed. “Yeah, I could hear it in your voice when I asked for her back.”

  I held the phone away from my ear and glared at it.

  Mia took the phone from me and punched the speaker and held it between us.

  “Cameron,” Richard’s voice filled the room. “Check your shares.”

  “I did.”

  Asshole.

  “You think we went with Destiny-Horizon?”

  I was literally seeing black spots.

  The room became a blur.

  “God, I know you so well,” he said. “Those looked like crap in the end. We went with Phoenix-Rise. You did give me free rein after all. They just went public—”

  “You didn’t lose my money?”

  “Well that explains your pissy mood.”

  “Richard?”

  “I just made a shitload of commission, thanks to you. We went through Charlie’s. Thought it best to buy under your charity name and that way no one would become suspicious that Cameron Cole…are you still there?”

  “Richard.” His name wouldn’t come out. My lips failed to form words and my mind reeled.

  “We’re still here,” said Mia.

  “Cam,” said Richard. “I quadrupled it.”

  Breathing no longer was necessary, apparently.

  He laughed. “I’m assuming you want me to buy every Cole Tea and Tempest Coffee share I can get my hands on and add it to your portfolio?”

  I nodded.

  Mia leaned in. “Cameron says ‘yes please.’” She beamed at me.

  The sound of Richard clicking away filtered through the phone. Winston barked in the background, and Richard told Winston to stop barking.

  A lifetime came and went.

  A series of memories unfolded and all of them led to this moment.

  “That’s the only good thing about a rumor of a hostile takeover,” said Richard. “People dump their shares.”

  “What does that mean?” whispered Mia.

  “Boom bitches!” shouted Richard.

  My heart thundered. “Speak to me.”

  “You just became the proud owner of Cole Tea. Well, 90% anyway. Not bad for a day’s work.”

  I stared at the phone as though it was the only thing that would save me.

  Time sped up. Slowed down. Realization dawned.

  “Richard, you’re a genius,” shouted Mia, jumping up and down.

  “Well, we know that.” He laughed.

  “I have to get back to the tower.” I ran out of the office, through the sitting room, and headed for the door.

  “Cameron!” Mia ran after me. “Your clothes.”

  I ran back to her. “Phone.” I took it from her. “Richard?”

  “Still here.”

  Mia handed me a sock and I hopped into it with one hand and held the phone with the other. “Richard! Thank you.”

  “What are you waiting for?” he said. “Go.”

  CHAPTER 21

  RUSH HOUR.

  A ridiculously bad time to choose to save an empire.

  Outside on the curb with my phone pressed to my ear, I tried to hail a cab while I scanned the chaos around me.

  My dad was minutes away from signing over Cole Tea and he wasn’t answering his phone. His assistant wasn’t answering his either. No one was. Because everyone was probably in the conference room about to witness the dark deed.

  Traffic was stationary. Horns blasted. The hustle and bustle of New York surrounded me. Pedestrian’s made their way to work and tourists were trickling onto the streets ready to explore.

  The futility of frustration. I’d never get there.

  I took off, sprinting faster than I ever had, and something told me I was besting my five minute mile.

  Passing shops and buildings, I weaved my way through.

  Richard had pulled off a miracle. He’d quietly purchased enough stock known as a creeping tender offer to change the face of Cole Tea, and no matter how the board resisted we had full power to deliver the death stroke. Prescribe that poison pill to the men who’d betrayed us.

  I crashed through the revolving door and my coat caught. I twisted out of it, leaving it behind and staggering forward, almost tripping as I bolted toward the elevator.

  A guard lunged toward me.

  “It’s Dr. Cole,” another shouted, and the guard stood down.

  Right on cue, the elevator doors parted and I flew in and punched the button for top floor.

  Rising fast, I took this advantage to catch my breath and willed it to go faster. My hands rested on my knees as I sucked in gulps of air, readying for the next sprint to the conference room.

  Out and along—

  Not caring who I startled, I flew by cubicles and offices. The conference room was tucked all the way in the back.

  Staff look defeated as I flew by them. Shell-shocked.

  Through the glass, I saw Dad at the head of the table and Henry sat by his side. Paul, Dad’s assistant, looked just as devastated. The young man had been crying.

  This was to be a private affair, apparently.

  At the end of the corridor, as though waiting to feast on what remained, stood the members of the board, and they turned to greet me.

  I ignored them—

  Bursting in, turning sharply, I slammed the door behind me.

  Dad’s frown deepened as though my entering was an assault on his senses. His white knuckled grip on the pen faltered.

  Henry looked just as drawn and tired, but pushed himself to his feet to greet me.

  “Tell me you didn’t sign it,” I said breathlessly, making way toward them.

  “Cameron, it’s over,” said Dad. His pen met the paper, and a blotch of ink formed as he began to scrawl his signature.

  I reached over and snapped the pen out of his hand.

  “Paul,” I said. “Frost the glass. Now, please.”

  He hurried over and shielded us from the prying eyes of those shark infested corridors.

  Dad’s glare met my smiling eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “Cam, we’re out of time,” said Henry, his voice hoarse.

  “You don’t need to sign it, Dad.” I said.

  His stare swept over the contact.

  I gestured to Paul. “Please, give us some privacy.”

  With a nod, Dad gave Paul permission to leave.

  I threw them both a big smile. “We’re going to draw up a new contract.”

  “How?” said Henry.

  “We own 90% of Cole Tea,” I said, hardly believing it. “The shares hit the market and we bought them up.”

  Dad rose from his chair. “With what?”

  “All our money’s tied up,” said Henry.

  I moved closer to them. “Richard pulled a few tricks on the stock market with my portfolio—”

  “Legally?” snapped Henry.

  “Of course,” I said. “He made us enough money to go ahead and purchase what we need to own the majority.” I arched a brow. “And some.”

  “We’re talking billions?” said Dad.

  His doubt hit hard.

  These seconds of silence served their purpose for thoughts to settle and minds to comprehend what had looked impossible.

  Dad slumped back into his chair.

  Henry stared at me. “You mean you now own Cole Tea?”

  “On paper, but it’s our money, right?”

  “This is…” Dad pushed the contract away.

&nbs
p; “A good thing.” My gaze rested on the frosted glass—a symbol of my father’s thoughts. “Cole Tea is still in the family.” This adrenaline threatened never to wear off.

  “You did it,” Dad said, braving to believe.

  “Henry?” I said.

  His face lit up with a smile and he flung himself toward me, wrapping his arms around me in a hug.

  CHAPTER 22

  I FOUND HENRY in Dad’s office.

  Instead of sitting on that lengthy sofa, or in either one of those leather chairs, he’d chosen the floor and leaned against the back wall.

  “You’re missing Dad wearing a party hat,” I said.

  “Now that I have to see.”

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “Admiring the view.”

  “An interesting choice of perspective.”

  “I believed it was over.” He gestured to Dad’s office chair. “I was devastated for him, but I had this sense of…”

  “What?”

  “Freedom.”

  “We’re all been under a tremendous pressure,” I said. “We need a good meal and sleep—”

  “I started fantasizing about owning a football team,” he said. “Spending my days touring the world, concentrating on our charities with the money we had left.”

  “And you still can.”

  He held my stare.

  “Henry, we made it. We won.”

  “No, Cameron, you won. You pulled this off. While the rest of us were floundering, you kept fighting. You can’t see it.”

  “See what?”

  “You were always destined for this.”

  “No, Henry.” My heart rate took off and I ran through my options. “I’ll be by your side—”

  “You are Cole Tea, Cameron.”

  “Don’t do this, Henry. Not now. Now’s the time to celebrate.”

  “There’s no joy in any of it for me. I had to stop myself from yawning during those board meetings. They went on and on and on. All this business jargon that I really have no interest in. Hate those bastards for betraying us. Gone was the camaraderie I’m used to, the loyalty.”