AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I have no use for guilt money,” he said. “So you can take the will and go to hell.” He strode to the door, but again she stopped him.
“Not even for fifty million dollars?”
Olivia’s words had his hand freezing on the worn wood of the screen door. He slowly turned. “Fifty million dollars? Uncle Michael willed me fifty million?”
She shook her head. “Not just you, but your brothers as well. And he didn’t will you money. He willed you shares of his lingerie company.”
“How does that equate to fifty million?”
Instead of answering she reached for the backpack by her feet. The same one that had been strapped to her back when he’d pulled her from the swamp. It was soaked, so it took her a while to get it unzipped. Once she had it open, she pulled out a damp file folder. She unhooked the loop and opened it, taking out a stack of legal papers that were surprisingly dry.
“I’m willing to offer you and your brothers fifty million dollars each for your shares.” She set the stack of papers on the table before pulling out a pen. “All you have to do is sign these contracts, and then once the will goes through probate and the shares transfer, I’ll give you the money.”
“Fifty million dollars?” Nash’s chair creaked as he sat back. “This is a joke, right?” He glanced around. “There has to be a hidden camera somewhere around here.”
“It’s no joke.” Olivia held out the pen. “With a simple signature, you could be a millionaire.”
“So what’s the catch?” Deacon asked.
“No catch.” Her innocent eyes stared back at him. “I want your shares of the company.”
It was rumored that the Beaumont men had an uncanny ability to read women’s minds. Deacon didn’t believe in such hocus-pocus. He believed in General Patton’s theory of knowing your enemies. He’d done his research on Michael…and Olivia. In numerous interviews she had made no bones about the fact that she ate, slept, and breathed her job. She loved the company. Loved it enough that she wouldn’t want three men who knew nothing about the lingerie business having any kind of control over it.
He should be elated. This was what he’d dreamed of, wasn’t it? To make his first million before he turned thirty-five? And even with Francesca’s backing, it was unlikely that he would achieve the goal in three years. Now fifty million had landed on his doorstep. It was just unfortunate that the windfall had come from the same family he wanted nothing from.
He glanced at the contracts. “I’ll need to read through it and then talk to my brothers before we sign anything.”
She nodded and got up, picking up her glass of tea. “I’ll be on the front porch.” She paused on her way out the door and looked at Deacon. “Do you think I could use your cell phone? Mine got wet and isn’t working.”
Deacon took his phone from his pocket, swiped the touch screen, and tapped in his passcode before handing it to her. Then, because he couldn’t seem to help himself, he held open the screen door. She stopped on her way out. So close that he could smell the scent of his shampoo that she’d used and see the splash of gold that lined the pupils of her green eyes.
“I know you don’t like me, Deacon,” she said, “but please don’t let that keep you from getting money you obviously need.”
The word need annoyed the hell out of him. He didn’t need anything from Olivia. But he kept his cool and waited for her to walk out onto the porch before he let the screen door slam and closed the heavy wood door with a decisive click. When he turned, he found his brothers staring at the legitimate-looking documents on the table as if they were a pot of gold at the end of a life that had been anything but rainbows.
Unfortunately, Deacon didn’t believe in pots of gold, rainbows, or women with innocent green eyes. He believed that you worked for everything you got, and life was a bitch and then you died. Walking over, he picked up the contracts and handed one to each of his brothers.
“Let’s not count our chickens before they hatch.”
