Page 161 of Flirty Fall Fling

“I built this place.” I stand up and button my jacket. My voice is calmer than I expected it to be. “For over a decade, I was at every camp, training rinks, scholarship giveaways. I advocated for so much, using my name and connections. I built this, but you know what? I don’t want to be the face of anything that doesn’t support people being with who they love. I’ll start another foundation,” I say. “The magic is me.”

“You can’t do that,” Bart says, slamming his fist on the table.

I laugh. “I can do whatever I want.”

Counsel flips through the old contract, searching for any verbiage that might stop me. There isn’t anything, because there was never a scenario in which I wasn’t here.

“Is someone going to stop him?” Gary asks.

Nobody does anything.

David catches up to me at the elevator. For a second, he looks at me.

“I voted against that,” he says.

“I know.”

“Before you go …” He glances back at the glass wall, where the suits discover their meeting is over. “I’m proud of you.” He shakes my hand once. “Go get your witch.”

“I plan on it.”

In the car, as the building slides past the window, I grin, knowing I have nothing to lose.

I’d lose it all for a chance to be with Blaire.

On the way back to Park Towers, I call Patterson.

He picks up on the first ring.

“It’s over,” I say.

“What is?” There’s silence. “You and Blaire?”

“Me and the foundation.”

“Are you on your way home?” my brother asks.

“Yeah.”

“I’m on my way to your place.”

We show up at the same time. He arrives with champagne, and it’s the kindest thing he’s done for me since he dared me to get my palm read.

He pours two glasses and hands me one.

“To telling all those douchebags to kiss your ass,” he says, and we drink.

The first call I make as a free man is to her. My phone gives me a failed call message. I try again and get the same two words, and then I realize it’s disconnected. As of this afternoon, I’m not a part of my foundation.

Fuck.

Patterson works it out and hands me his phone before I ask.

I copy her number out of my phone into his. It goes straight to voicemail.

“Hi, friend,” I say. “I don’t know if you’re trying to reach me; my phone has been disconnected. This is Patterson’s number. I’m with him right now. Call me?”

“You’re being weird,” Patterson says when I hang up. “You act like she doesn’t want to see you or something.”