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Chapter One
WES
“You can’t be serious, Andrews.”
Harold Parker stares down at the numbers on the check in front of him and back up at me. “You’re offering todoubleRiley’s offer?”
I bite back a smirk. “Triple, actually. But yes, sir. I am serious.”
Harold leans back in his chair, studying me like I’m some interesting specimen under a microscope. His fingers twitch restlessly on the check, a mirror to his internal debate.
It’s not every day that you manage to surprise a man like Harold Parker.
But then again, this wasn’t exactly my plan either.
When I heard Harold Parker was stepping down from his family business, selling his majority shares, I thought I had it in the bag. After all, I’m practically family. I may not carry the Parker name, but I’ve got its oil in my veins, its grit in my bones.
My first ever job was at Parker & Sons. Before college swept me up in its current, I was just like every other kid in Cooper Hills with calloused hands and big dreams.
And now that I’ve moved back home to start my own private equity firm, acquiring Harold’s shares felt like the natural next step.
But then Patrick Riley put in an offer at the last minute. So, I decided to raise the stakes. I told Harold I would triple whatever Riley offers.
Overkill? Maybe.
And there’s no way in hell I’m letting that asshole take what’s mine.
Harold’s gruff voice pulls me back to the moment.
“Be honest, Wes.” His eyes narrow as he gives me a pointed look. “Why are you doing this?”
My gaze slides behind Harold to a framed photo on the credenza. It’s a photo of his oldest daughter.
Fiona.
Her eyes are a storm, wild and untamed. They seem to reach out from the photograph, pulling at something deep within me. My breath catches every damn time.
Quickly, I shake myself out of my thoughts. Then I meet Harold’s gaze head-on and decide to answer honestly.
“Because I owe you, sir.”
Harold’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Owe me for what?”
I steal another glance at the photo. “For giving me everything I’ve ever wanted.” Then I clear my throat. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be the successful businessman that I am today.”
That gets a reaction. A flicker of surprise. Then a smile that’s as rare as a desert rain.
Harold knows me. Knows I’m not just some Wall Street hotshot. And even though it’s been years since we worked together, I know the old man still has a soft spot for me.
The silence stretches between us, only broken by the ticking of the antique clock on the wall.
“So, do we have a deal, then?” I ask.
The old man rubs his chin, lost in thought.
“I’ll think about it, Wes,” he says after a moment.
I nod, pushing back my chair and rising to my feet. My gaze drifts back to Fiona’s photo one last time. Her image is seared into my mind, her spirit fueling my determination.
