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“I’m worried about you. That’s all.”
“You don’t have to. You don’t have to worry about me.” He stands, taking the drink in hand, and starts back down the hall. “Call me when the food’s ready,” he says, shutting the door to the office right after and leaving me in the kitchen with a romantic dinner for two.
Whatever secret he’s keeping, is it big enough to risk destroying us? Aren’t all secrets?
Do I listen and not worry about him?
It’s too late for that. I’m worried and a little shaken. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen this side of Jackson. He’s allowed to have a crappy day, but shutting me out is not the same as shielding me, if that’s what he’s trying to do.
What I do know is that my plans for tonight just went in the garbage.
27
Jackson
“Implicating you, even suing you, doesn’t make you guilty,” Nick says, sitting near the head of the conference table. “It doesn’t even make you the party responsible for the damages Morgenstern is claiming.” Tapping the file in front of him, he finds my eyes at the other end of a table full of attorneys. “But it does mean you will have to address the lawsuit and accusation either outside the courtroom or inside. Your choice.”
“Outside means a settlement,” I say. “Fuck him. I don’t owe him a cent.” We’ve been in this room for hours. I’ve missed two calls from Marlow, which adds to the stress. My leg has been bouncing from the last thread keeping my patience intact. My anger, though . . . I’ve always had a temper when pushed into a corner. It’s starting to get the best of me.
Andrew leans forward, clasping his hands together on the table. “Inside the courtroom could cost millions to defend.” His head drops as he stretches his neck and rolls it back up. It’s been a long day, so I get it. “We all know it’s a frivolous lawsuit. He’s angry and lashing out, but his problem has become ours.”
I glance at Brent, Morgenstern’s wealth manager . . . former financial advisor, wondering how this guy’s going to defend himself. He’s got like three years under his belt, a newlywed, and doesn’t have the same bank account I’m sitting with. I see the fear in his eyes. I have enough of my own problems, but this guy deserves a chance to explain what happened. I start by asking, “Just so I’m clear, and my attorneys understand, the Monday you returned from your honeymoon was the same day that Morgenstern got ahold of you. Is that correct?”
He shifts, looking anxiously down at Andrew. “The company will cover it, right?”
“Cover what?” Andrew asks, sitting straighter on alert.
“I put in the order as he requested. He told me that Jackson recommended the buy, so we needed to take the loss.”
“Why would I recommend a stock that I wouldn’t be willing to invest in?”
Brent shrugs, trying to act casual, but the beads of sweat forming at his hairline tell a different story. “That’s what he told me.”
“I emailed you the Saturday before you returned to work that Morgenstern had called me in a panic. He wanted to sell the stock because it was plummeting. I didn’t give you an order or make a recommendation. I stated in writing what he had communicated to me, and if you weren’t going to be back to handle it, I asked who was covering your clients.” Weasel. “I have the email thread. You replied that you would be back. Did you handle your client’s business?”
He may think we’re fucking stupid, but he inches closer to the door when he thinks people aren’t paying attention. I am. I’m watching him. He says, “A lot was going on.”
Nick’s sigh is audible all the way down the sixteen-seat table. He then asks, “Are you telling us that you did or didn’t do what your client asked? So we’re clear? Because over the weekend, you said everything was done according to regulation. Is that still the case?”
“Yes,” he says before the question is fully out of Nick’s mouth. “I did everything right and by the book.”
The white noise of the team of attorneys murmuring to each other rises, but then I say, “What about the first question Nick asked?”
“I answered his questions.”
I press harder because I’m caught up in this mess. “You didn’t answer if you did as your client asked.”
He pops his neck and shoots a glare. “It’s all in the summary report, Jackson. Look for yourself. I sold the stocks when he authorized me to do so.”
“On Monday?”
He looks at Andrew. “Why’s he even here? He’s not a CWM employee.”
Andrew’s expression hardens. “As an employee, you should know the role he’s played in CWM’s success in this market. As a refresher, he helped navigate the changeover after the buyout from Manhattan Financial Group. He brought in not new clients but helped retain the current clientele that his family’s company had built. He was a broker and an advisor after working his way up from the mailroom starting in high school. So we give him an office to show respect and our gratitude. He’s a member of this team, even if we don’t cut him a paycheck anymore.”
