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“Fuck,” Scarlett breathes.
“Yep.”
“Is it…true?”
“I have no idea. But I’ve got to handle it, either way.”
“Can this take down the company?”
“I don’t know.” I rest my elbows on my knees and scrub my hands over my face. “The legal team is working on it. My dad and Oliver aren’t taking my calls.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means they knew about this and kept me out of the loop.”
“Maybe they were trying to protect you,” Scarlett suggests softly.
“Fuck that. This is my family’s company. My legacy. I’m supposed to be the next CEO.”
“You didn’t know anything about this. You didn’t do anything wrong. If you have to, you can start over. Start your own company.”
“If this goes that far, the Kensington name won’t be worth much.”
“Money talks.”
“Most of mine is tied up in this sinking ship.”
“Ihave money, Sport.”
“And you married me for mine.” I stand and grab my laptop. “So I’d better go bail out this ship, huh?”
“Crew…”
“I’m sorry I can’t go to the hospital with you. I’m going to drive myself to the office. If you want Roman to take you, just give him a call.”
“Okay,” she says.
“Okay,” I repeat.
I walk over and kiss her. It’s brief and sweet.
She grabs the inside of my elbow, holding me in place for a minute.
“Merry Christmas, Red.”
“Merry Christmas, Sport.”
The meetings last for hours. I’m drained and irritated by the time I head back toward my office.
Asher is waiting. His feet aren’t up on my desk. If I’d ever told him why this hunk of wood holds sentimental value, I know he never would have put them up in the first place. Probably why I never did. Not many people challenge me.
“Nathaniel Stewart.”
“What about him?” I ask.
“You wanted the name. He was the leak.”
I sink down into my chair. “How reliable is your source?”
