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“I’m here for her. Nothing else,” I said, starting past him.
“She’d hate it if she knew you smoked,” he said quietly, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees.
“She already does.” Mama had busted me fifteen years ago and chewed my ass out to the point I’d quit for a few months. It was a habit I just couldn’t kick. Didn’t see any point in it. I was respectful enough of her not to smoke in her presence or even if I knew I was going to see her, but I didn’t hide it from her.
My phone buzzed. I’d turned it on when I’d left Mama earlier in case anything happened while I was gone. I was tempted to ignore the call but had done that all too much lately, so I swiped my finger across the screen.
“Mr. Carter, this is George Fulton from Salter Steel and Supply.”
Jesus fuck.I knew what he wanted, and I didn’t have it. “George.” I greeted him as if we were long-lost buddies. “I’m glad you called. Listen, I tried to post a payment to you a few days ago and just got notification something went wrong. I was going to call you earlier, but I’ve had a family emergency, so I’ve been out of commission.”
“Oh, nothing serious, I hope,” he said, sounding concerned.
“It’s not good, but we’re going to be okay,” I said solemnly, ignoring the pointed look Easton gave me. The lies rolled so easily off my tongue that even I believed them. I sure as fuck hadn’t tried to make a payment to Salter, because I didn’t have the money.
“Well, if there’s anything I can do,” he offered.
“No, no. Thank you, though. I appreciate it.” I needed to get off this call ASAP.
“If you need a few more days, we can give it to you for extenuating circumstances, but Mr. Carter, we’re going to need at least a partial payment by the end of the week since there’s such a large amount outstanding—”
“Let me get your bank details again. Hang on a sec so I can grab a pen.” I turned my back on Easton and pretended to get something to write with. “Okay. Ready when you are, George.”
He relayed the account information while I lifted my eyes to the ceiling and made a face.
“I’ll make sure this gets taken care of tomorrow. You might want to make sure nothing is going on on your end, though. Like I said, the payment wouldn’t process to you,” I said with false concern.
“Will do.” I opened my mouth to end the conversation, but good old George beat me to the punch. “So we can expect at least $425,000 tomorrow.”
“You’ll have the whole thing,” I promised, yet another fucking lie. “You have a good evening.”
I ended the call and shoved my phone in my pocket, then ran both hands through my hair. Where the hell was I going to come up with the full amount of $850,000 by tomorrow? Only one solution came to mind—rob Peter to pay Paul.
“Problems?” Easton asked.
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Why was your credit card declined at the Four Seasons?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“The hell it isn’t when I bailed you out,” he said, but his voice was calm, not even the slightest bit annoyed. “I can’t figure out how someone who steals nearly a billion dollars doesn’t have any money.”
That damn pipeline had costwaymore than any of them had forecast, and buying an established oil company wasn’t cheap, not to mention two.
“Who says I don’t?” I asked defensively, regretting my attitude the second I spoke. “What I do or do not have is none of your concern.”
“Actually, it very much is, considering you stole company money.” He dropped his chin and steepled his hands in front of him. “How bad a decision was it to buy that pipeline?” There wasn’t any accusation in his voice. In fact, I got the impression if I showed him the numbers, he’d want to help.
“I don’t know what—”
Easton held up a hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to hear any more of your lies.”
I should have walked away, but I found myself moving toward him. I dropped into the seat beside him, leaning my head against the wall.
“As good as you and Mulaney and Dad are, y’all were way off the mark with the projections. Way,wayoff.” What the hell was I doing? I’d admitted nothing up to this point, but saying that, I might as well show him exactly how I took all that money.
He jerked his head up in surprise. “The terrain,” Easton deduced.
