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My brows shot up, but my wife didn’t appear all that surprised.
“How dare you—”
“She was more than qualified. You cannot in any way take away her abilities. Apologize,” my dad yelled.
“I won’t. You know I’m right, Easton,” he said, and I had honestly never seen such anger in his eyes, especially directed at Mulaney. A low growl of frustration escaped her.
“Tread carefully,” I warned.
“We all should,” he said, turning his stare from Mulaney to our father. “If someone finds out about this money you hid, we could all be in serious trouble. I’m guessing it wasn’t listed in the assets when we brokered the deal with SPE.” He joined our father at the bar and slammed back a shot. “On the surface, this looks like embezzlement.”
“It wasn’t in the assets,” Dad said, sounding far calmer than he had a minute ago. “If it had been, I might not have sold.”
“They got a hell of a deal,” Drew responded, though it was probably not the thing to say right then, even if it was true.
They glared at one another.
“What are we going to do with the money?”
“We can filter it into SPE’s accounts in small increments. They’ll be none the wiser,” Drew offered, slamming back another shot.
“That’s crazy. If we get caught, we’d be in a world of trouble—” Dad paced in front of the bar.
“We’re already up shit creek,” Drew said, pushing his empty glass away.
“We can’t give them forty million. That’s exactly what we’d be doing since they didn’t factor in the cash in their bid.” Mulaney piled her hair on top of her head, but let it go when she couldn’t find anything to secure it with.
“We lied.” Drew’s argument echoed through the room.
“It was an honest mistake,” I said. “If you’d have told us you were going to sell the company—”
“You didn’t exactly announce you were putting cash away,” my father said.
Mama set aside the pillow she’d been leaning on. “We should keep the money.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Mulaney
“Keep it?”
Loretta Carter might finagle seating arrangements at dinners to nudge me and her son together, but keeping forty million was a totally different ballgame.
Yet she seemed unfazed by my doubt. “Yes. Keep it.”
Drew fiddled with his phone, the lines around his mouth in a pronounced frown.
“Sounds like Mama solved our problem,” Easton said, hands still in his pockets. His forearm flexed and bunched every few seconds. “Everybody in agreement?”
“We can’t just leave forty mil in a bunch of offshore accounts,” Drew said, darkening the screen on his phone.
Easton raised a brow. “I didn’t say they were in offshore accounts.”
“Where the hell else would you hide that much money? I doubt it’s in the vault at First National Bank of Houston,” Drew challenged.
“Close but wrong town.”
I looked at my husband like he’d grown another head. “You couldn’t have stashed that much in a bank.”
