Page 74 of Scandal


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This was a nice break from reality, even if that’s all it was. I poured myself a drink, wrapping the towel tighter around my body. I began my way back to bed, when I unintentionally eavesdropped on Owen’s conversation. The wind must have changed, because I could make out whole sentences now as if he was in the room with me. I stuck to the wall, out of view. I wasn’t suspicious, just a little curious and bored, so I listened.

“Yes, and we’ve spoken about this at least three times! You don’t seem to understand, I’m not showing up for that meeting. I have a little something that excludes me from having to go. Nobody is hiding Baxter, but you're stirring up panic does not help.”

I frowned and took a sip from my glass. Was there trouble, after all?

“I know exactly what they want. The same thing everyone wants, especially from me. They want my money, and I’m not giving it to them!” There was a pause, during which he sighed. “Ah, fuck. I knew it. That idiot. Of course, he was. Let me think.”

He could’ve been talking about anyone, but something told me it was his ex-business partner.

“Yes, I made the decision, but that deal is on the company. The IRS can dig wherever they want, so let them, otherwise we’ll look guilty. And anyway, we’ll bury them under paperwork until next century.”

The IRS!

Were Owen’s problems much more serious than he had told me?

Shit.

He said, “Look, if they find that Lawson is laundering money, that’s on him. His schemes were shit five years ago, and they probably still are now. What we have on our side is plausible deniability. This isn’t a tax write-off, nor are we hiding this money. What we need to worry about is the DA sniffing around where he shouldn’t be. When all that went down, I didn’t know anything, you didn’t know anything, and those assholes can prove nothing. If they want to look at our taxes, we have nothing to hide!”

The IRS, tax write-offs, money laundering… Just what exactly was Owen’s business? Was his company just a cover for criminal affairs, the way that shabby bar was a front for Chicago Buyer’s Club? Had Owen really changed, or had he just moved past his former colleagues?

I took another sip from the glass and tried to hear some more, before jumping to conclusions.

He said, “Yes, okay, it was my fault. I might have jumped into their trap, but I’m not the only one in it. No, nobody is going to prison! Look through the papers once again, it’s all in there. All the IRS is going to see in there is an unwise business decision. So, we’ll lose a couple of million, so what? Take it from my salary. Relax, I’m telling you!”

As convincing as he tried to sound, I heard doubt in his voice. He didn’t believe a word coming out of his own mouth, which meant the trouble was real and big.

I drank the last of my wine, splashed the glass, and put it into a cupboard, fixing it in place. I tiptoed back into the bedroom, trying to convince myself I had heard nothing.

But once I was alone, lying in that bed, it began to weigh on me. Had I made a colossal mistake?

Chapter 16

Owen

I swiped off the call and almost threw the cell phone overboard. Fuck. Why was everyone so sheepish when it came to dealing with real problems? My people were afraid, and when people are afraid, they make mistakes. I didn’t want that. Couldn’t afford it. Everything was at stake, and I needed the company to be strong.

I also knew that the only way to ensure that would be to go back to Chicago to face the music. I wasn’t afraid. I could dance circles around the IRS, and if that didn’t help, I could simply pay them off. Wouldn’t be the first time for either. In the last ten years, I had discovered that everyone who had looked into our business had a family. A teenager getting ready for college, a pregnant wife, an elder parent in need of a hospital… I knew all the tricks in the book.

The truth was – I was tired. I had everything I had ever dr

eamt of. All the money in the world, which had only brought more problems. More bases to cover, more backs to scratch, more people to pay off. I was done. I wanted to go downstairs and lie down next to the woman who had made me happy in just a few days. She was the real thing, none of this other bullshit.

I knew what I had to do. It was the only thing that would take this weight off my shoulders, and I needed to do it as soon as possible. If there was ever any hope for us, I would have to come clean to Sydney.

But first, I raised the anchor and set the computer to take us back home. The day was still warm, but there was no sun, and it would quickly get cold out on the water. I put my phone away and went downstairs.

When I walked into the main cabin, Sydney was sitting up in the bed.

“We need to talk,” she said.

Chapter 17

Sydney

I had to know what was going on.

“Yeah we do,” he admitted. “What did you hear?”

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