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There’s a knock at the conference room door, and my brother’s voice makes me grimace before I even have a chance to look up and see him smirking from the doorway.
“Thought I might find you here,” he says. “You’ve done a pretty good job of avoiding me, but I convinced security to let me back into the building for the board meeting.”
“Sounds like I need to replace my head of security,” I mutter. “What do you want, James?”
“We need to talk.”
Fuck, why is everyone so hell-bent on talking to me lately?
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” I look back down at the papers in front of me. “I thought I made that pretty clear when I banned you from the premises.”
He walks over and sits in his usual chair a couple of seats down from mine. I can feel him looking at me even though I’m still doing my best to ignore him.
“You know I have a hard time taking a hint,” he says. “How long do you plan on giving me the cold shoulder, Keir? You can’t keep this up forever, you know.”
“Pretty sure I can, actually. In fact, forever sounds like the perfect amount of time to me.” I finally glance back up at him. “Since you’re here, I won’t cause a scene by having you thrown out just before the meeting. But don’t mistake this act of kindness for weakness. Don’t keep trying my patience, James.”
I don’t know how I can be more blunt. I don’t want him here. I don’t want to talk. How many more times do I have to say those words before they sink in?
“You’re the one trying my patience,brother.” His voice is lower now, and his sarcastic, cocky mask is starting to slip. This is the real James. He might be able to hide the worst parts of himself from the press, but this certainly isn’t the first time I’ve seen his ugly, ruthless side. I doubt it’ll be the last. “You’d do well to remember that you aren’t the only one around here with power and leverage.”
So now he’s threatening me?
I wonder what kind of dirt he thinks he has on me. More importantly, I wonder what his end goal is.
“What the hell do you want?” I ask again, because I seriously have zero patience for his bullshit. Fuck his parlor games and his Machiavellian intrigue. “I doubt you came here to exercise your fiduciary duty as a member of the board.”
He eases back in his seat, a wry smile playing across his lips. “So arrogant and self-righteous. You’ve always been a bit of a prick, but I think it’s actually getting worse as you get older. Maybe it’s the bitterness that’s starting to come through.”
If he’s trying to push me over the edge into a homicidal rage, he’s succeeding. His stupid jabs and childish insults are nothing new, but there’s a limit to how much I can put up with. A hard limit that he’s quickly approaching.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I sigh, reaching for the intercom button. “I don’t mind causing a scene after all. If it wasn’t for this meeting that’s about to start, I’d throw you out of here myself. So do you want to leave on your own? Or will you give me the satisfaction of calling security?”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t really matter. Call whoever you want. But it’ll be a shame if you throw me out before I have a chance to tell you why I’m here.”
Oh, Jesus.
I seriously want to strangle him. It might even be justifiable in court at this point. “Do you plan on telling me before we both die of old age? I’ve already asked why you’re here. Pretty sure those were the first words out of my mouth.”
“I want NewsCorp to do a better job of backing my campaign.” He tosses out the request so nonchalantly that it takes a moment for my brain to catch up.
“People already assume we’re biased in favor of your campaign. There’s not a lot more we can do without coming right out and saying it, and you know very well all the reasons why we can’t do that.”
James might be a lot of things—sneaky, manipulative, exploitative, and mean are just some of his better qualities—but he isn’t an idiot. He has a shrewd mind for business and for politics, so there has to be something more to his request, something he isn’t telling me.
I don’t have to wait too long for the other shoe to drop.
“There’s more you can do,” he insists. “Don’t pretend to have morals and virtues and journalistic integrity now. It just doesn’t suit you. Not after everything else you’ve done over the years.”
I could keep arguing, but what’s the point? Instead, I fold my hands in front of me and wait. He knows the rest of the board members will start filtering in here any minute, so time is on my side. I’m still not totally convinced he has something important to say, but he’ll have to make it fast if he does.
He leans in a little closer and whispers, “I’ve seen the tape.”
My heart stops beating for a second. Literally stops in my chest. “What tape?” I can feel the blood draining from my face. “You’d better choose your next words very carefully, James. What tape are you talking about?”
I already know the answer, of course, but I want to hear him say the words. Does he really have the balls to sit here and blackmail me on my own turf? In my own boardroom?
“The sex tape you made with your little whore.”
