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Owen
I should have fucking followed her.
Why was I sitting here, doing nothing on an island? Jesus Owen, what a fucking mess.
As soon as the plane returned to the island, I said goodbye to paradise. I had to face my demons, and Sydney. I needed to win her back.
Immediately after I stepped on the plane, I got out my phone and called the office. Even at this late hour, the key people were there, working with the legal team on fixing everything. Or so I hoped.
Thankfully, my last phone call had been effective, and instead of describing more problems, my people offered solutions, most of which I approved of. It seemed like everyone was collected enough to handle it on their own, and I wouldn’t need to use my ace this time. I would keep that pretty little picture of the DA for another issue.
My next call was to my personal lawyer, who reported on where they were regarding my own personal safety. It wasn’t a fruitful conversation – all the lawyer said was that I had to come home to discuss the matter in private.
Which was exactly what I did. After I deplaned I had my driver take me all the way to my penthouse in River North. I was on the lookout for paparazzi. Even though I wasn’t a public person, the latest inquiries by the IRS had made their way to mass media – influencing the stock, while they were at it – and I knew there would be people eager to hear what I had to say.
Thankfully, the parking garage was private territory, and I had to take just a few steps to the elevator that took me back home, without ever seeing another person.
My lawyer was there, having a cup of coffee on the balcony, waiting.
“Glad you decided to show up, Owen.”
I spread my arms. “Time to face the music.”
“Very well.” Baxter walked back inside and set his cup down. “Coffee?”
I slid open the bar door. “Whiskey.”
“Good choice, considering.”
I poured three fingers and drank half of it. I knew the news wouldn’t be too good. “So?”
“The good news is we were wise to be preparing for the worst, even though it isn’t exactly what happened.”
“Get to the point, will you? I’m here, so let’s not sugarcoat it.”
“Internal Revenue spooks are on your ass, Owen. That deal you made last fall raised all kinds of red flags. We managed some damage control, in that this particular deal has you in the clear, but after they did some digging, they decided to go back as far as 2006 to see what else you have been up to.”
“But they have no proof, right? We’ve been covering all bases.” I was sure of it, because I had been personally double-checking everything.
“Yes and no. They have no concrete facts, at least not until they get through ten years’ worth of paperwork all over the globe, but the amount of suspicious activity on its own is enough for them to get whatever clearance they want. And considering the money involved, they will want to dig deep.”
I downed the rest of my drink. “So what? Let them dig. If we’re innocent until proven guilty, we can bury them under paperwork, just like I’ve told you already. We’ll start by giving them everything from ’06 and ’07. That’ll keep them occupied.”
“Had we given it up voluntarily when it was first brought up, sure. Only they’re not stupid. They know we’ve buried something–”
“A lot of things.”
“You said it. They know we’ve buried something, so they will insist on arresting everything we have in the file room, and they’ll start fro
m yesterday’s files.”
“I’ll call the office, see what they can come up with. Honestly, I don’t care about the files as much at the moment. What about me? You said I was clear?”
“Technically, yes. If they were to look into you, they’d find nothing.”
I felt there was a but, yet I said, “Does that mean I can relax?”
“Not in the States. They will be following you, like they’ve been following Lawson, and a few of your other ex-partners. You’ll be a red flag for them. Better to lay low for a while. Full lockdown – no calls, no travel. Get somewhere and stay there. Understood?”
