“Completely. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I make a shooing motion, hoping he’ll disappear, but naturally he does nothing of the sort. Sighing, I turn back to him and say, “What?”
“Are you and Northwood plotting to steal Nate’s product away from him?”
“What?” Why is he asking that? What does he know? I’m not plotting to do anything to Nate’s company, but … Northwood might be.
My hesitation is as good as an admission. Noah’s face darkens, but he says nothing, just staring at me with that horrible blank gaze.
“I’m not plotting to take his label! It’s great and needs to be shared with the world,” I add vehemently.
“Blue Hill Brewery. Ring a bell?”
I blink. “What? Yeah. We had a deal with them a few years ago. But it ended—”
“It ended when Northwood wrote into their contract that they had to make deliveries every month, while NBI only paid them quarterly. They couldn’t afford the shipments when their sales payments were delayed ninety days. They went under within a year.”
“I didn’t—”
“Then there was Twisted Fish Distilling. You should know them. They’re right outside of Portland. Well, they were, anyway. They had to sell to another distiller after Northwood forced them into an exclusivity contract and then reneged on the volume NBI purchased. They couldn’t service their loan with so little sales.”
This is what Northwood did to those other companies? The rumors hinted at something awful, but surely they can’t be this bad. “Noah, I think you might be mistaken—”
“Pour House. Three Mills IPAs. Crafted Beerhaus. Shall I go on?” Nathan flings the names at me in disgust, then continues before I can respond, “Do we need to go through your entire catalogue over there at NBI before you stop trying to jerk me around?”
“What are you saying?” I snap.
Noah glares at me. “I’m saying that your boss is singlehandedly responsible for the bankruptcy of more companies than any other person in your industry. And you’ve never done anything about it. So I must presume you’re complicit. And I’ll be damned if you do it to my brother.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hiss. “I wasn’t involved in those deals.”
“A convenient excuse.”
“Look, Northwood might cut corners, but he can’t possibly have done all of that. Someone long ago would have sued him. There has to be more to whatever stories you heard.”
Noah laughs darkly. The sound shivers down my spine. “Oh, Jude. Until now you’d led me to believe you weren’t naive. Men like Charles Northwood do whatever the hell they want and get away with it.”
“Whatever you do or do not think Northwood has done, it’s not happening here. I’m not trying to hurt Nathan, Noah. I’m trying to help him. And if I sign him—which I want to do—then I’ll get the promotion I’ve wanted for years. Okay? There’s no conflict of interest here. I appreciate that you’re worried about your brother, but it’s unnecessary. Now leave.”
“I’ll leave whenever I damn well want and not a moment before,” he says, voice cold. “Let me make something abundantly clear to you. You will not steal my brother’s dream from him. You will not allow your boss to do the same, either. You will do nothing but ensure this deal comes to fruition. If you don’t, I will ruin your life and that of your despicable boss. I will bring those companies as witnesses in a court of law, and NBI will lose. Everything. Have I made myself clear?”
Oh, he’s made everything clear all right. I fold my arms over my chest. “Well, maybe I’ll just tell Nathan about this little conversation and—”
“You won’t do that.”
“Why not?”
He climbs to his feet, towering over me. “Because as much as I will make your life a misery if you steal his company from him, if you succeed in driving a wedge between my brother and me, I’ll make you rue the day you were ever born.”
And without another word, he pushes through the crowd before I can try to convince him again that he’s got this all wrong.
I wait until I’m sure he’s disappeared out the door before I grab my phone. Northwood answers on the first ring.
“Why, Jude. This is a pleasant sur—”
“Blue Hill Brewery.”
Silence. My fist clenches on the table in front of me. There it is. The silence tells all. The bastard actually did it. He actually did all those terrible things.
“Jude, I’m not sure what—”
“Twisted Fish,” I snap. “What happened to Twisted Fish Distilling, Charles?”
Again, silence echoes on the other end of the line. I’m so furious I can hardly speak, hardly manage to snarl the names of the other three companies Noah mentioned.
“Well?” I say when he still refuses to answer.
“It really is a shame what happened to those companies,” Northwood finally says, his tone seemingly upset. “They all had such promise.”
“I can’t believe you. Why did you do it? NBI would have still made a hell of a lot of profit if you’d chosen not to screw over all those companies!”
“Come now, Jude. You know how the game is played. Nothing gained in life is a result of fortune or merit.”
“That’s not true. Nathan is talented. That’s why we’re working with him. His product is simply better than others.”
Northwood laughs, and it’s a dark, disturbing sound. “Nathan King is like so many other people. Talented, but ultimately inconsequential. Do you know how many talented people there are in this world? Millions. In any industry. Talent, simply put, is common. There’s nothing special about someone who’s good at what he does because for every one of him, there are fifty—a hundred—more just like him.
“Success is granted to those who take it for themselves. You don’t need talent for that. And that’s the uncomfortable truth; the reality most don’t want to admit. Many—if not most—of the people in this world have climbed to the pinnacle of their industry merely because they were willing to get down in the mud and do what was necessary to get there. Where all other talented people may have hesitated due to morality, fear, or laziness, successful people damn the consequences.
“So yes, Jude, Nathan is presenting to me in just a few days. And he is talented. I’ll surely grant him that. But he will only become a made man if I choose to allow him to become one. It’s that simple. One word from me would prevent him from ever finding success in this industry—despite his incredible talent, as you keep mentioning. That’s how the real world works. Supreme skill, like any fruit, withers on the vine without a gardener’s hands to tend it.”
“That’s a disgusting view of the world. And I don’t care how realistic it is. I won’t be a part of it. You hear me, Northwood? I won’t. So why don’t you really tell me what you want from him? Let’s put it all on the table.”
For a long moment, Northwood says nothing. Perhaps he’s recognized the barely suppressed rage in my tone; perhaps he’s contemplating the best way to get what he wants. In either case, when he finally responds, I’m simultaneously surprised and furious with myself for not figuring it out sooner.
“Does Nathan King have a large supply of his product or not?”
“Why do you keep asking about that?”
“Because I want to know. Or have you been unable to find out? I must say, that’s quite disappointing of—”
“No, he doesn’t!” I snap, thinking it will ruin whatever plan he’s concocting.
“Excellent.”
“Excellent? Why? How is that possibly a good thing?” I say, feeling queasy.
“Because it will give us the leverage we need to demand an exclusivity rider in the contract. I don’t want anyone else snapping up his product. But if he has to go through aging a whole batch, it will take him years to come to market. And if his product is as exceptional as you keep saying it is, then I want to own all of that market whenever he’s ready. Own it and control it. We’ll be taking an even bigger risk signi
ng him, so we’ll be able to demand exclusivity in exchange.”
My nausea grows. “That might put him out of business if he’s reduced to only one stream of revenue.”
“That’s highly unlikely.”
“Tell that to Twisted Fish. Is that what you told them, too, when you asked for exclusivity?”
“I have no intention of doing anything untoward, Miss Shaw. Surely you know that. After all, you’ve just made it quite clear yet again you keep your nose above the shit—and here you are on this deal.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care. You’ll ensure King accepts the exclusivity rider in the contract, or he won’t sign one at all. Period. Those are my terms. It shouldn’t be such a hard thing to convince him to do, anyway, considering your relationship with him. Or haven’t you been sleeping with him all this time?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about and will file a sexual harassment suit the minute I get off this call if such insinuations don’t stop this instant,” I say firmly. If I give one inch here, Northwood will use it against us in a heartbeat.
He chuckles. “Of course, yes. I must have been mistaken. I apologize for any offense I might have caused you.”
“Uh huh.”
“Wonderful. I look forward to hearing this incredibly important presentation at the end of this week. Oh, and Jude?”
“Yes?” I say through gritted teeth.
“In the slight chance there is indeed something between the two of you, be sure to end it before I arrive. If I catch even a whiff of sexual attraction between you, Mr. King will lose his contract, and you will be fired. No promotion. No second chances. Fired. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent.”
The line goes dead. I drop my phone to the table, wondering what the hell I’m going to do, how I can begin to go about untangling this mess.
Nathan shouldn’t take this deal. That much is clear. No way is it in his best interest. And while Northwood claims otherwise, after what I just learned from Noah and what even Northwood himself just demanded, I’d be stupid to think his motives are purely altruistic. Or honest, for that matter. No one should sign a contract with someone like that on the other end of the deal.
The thing is, if Nate doesn’t sign then my job is as good as gone—let alone the promotion I’ve always wanted. But if he does sign, then Noah will come after NBI, and I’ll lose my job.
Then there’s my relationship with Nathan. If that doesn’t end, then Northwood will fire me and yank Nate’s deal, too.
So essentially, I’m in an unwinnable situation. Everyone has neatly backed me into a corner. And unfortunately, fighting my way out will necessitate doing the only thing I don’t want to do.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nathan
I wake to Jude stretched out over my body. Smiling, I trail a hand through her hair. Jude started out as a very restless sleeper, but every night with me she becomes quieter and quieter. Now, she practically curls into my side and conks out. Good thing I don’t mind getting kicked in my sleep, or else I would have gotten no rest these last few weeks.
Instead of waking her, I take a moment to just stare. Sunlight streaks through the window, falling across her naked body. I’m still reeling from the night we had. There had been an almost desperate quality to Jude’s lovemaking, an intensity we’d never reached even with all the nights we’ve shared together.
Every time she touches me, I fall deeper into her, deeper into my growing feelings for her. How will I ever drag myself out of this situation? And I have to. No doubt about that. I need to figure it out now, and fast.
I live here, and she has her life in Oregon. This thing between us has no future. And I’d never ask her to choose between her promotion and me. We’ve only just come into each other’s lives; I have no right to ask that.
Jude stirs against me. I smile, stroking her back lazily. She purrs softly in contentment, nestling tighter against me. But then she stiffens.
Jude lifts her head. I grin down at her. “Good morning, sweetheart.”
She groans, then buries her head in my neck.
I laugh. “Still not a morning person, I see.”
“Hmm.”
I roll her onto her back. “I gotta say, I was a fan of last night. I never knew a woman’s legs could lift that high. I might just need a repeat performance.”
Kissing her, I stroke my hand down her body, thumb circling her tightening nipple as I taste her mouth. Jude moans as my hips thrust against hers, sliding my shaft between her cleft. Incredibly, she’s already wet. I thrust harder, teasing her, teasing myself, stroking just a little lower before—
“No.”
It takes me a second to register the word. “W-what?” I say, hips still thrusting before the word truly filters through my brain. I still.
“No?” I say, confused.
“No,” she repeats.
“Oh. Are you saying you want to do it in the shower? Because I am down. You can call me the human loofah. My hands—”
“No, Nathan. Just—can you let me up?”
She pushes lightly against my shoulders. Concerned now, I roll off her, my boner dying a quick death.
“What’s wrong?” I say, a queer feeling sliding down my spine.
Jude rolls out of bed, putting her bare back to me. I ache to reach out and stroke that soft skin, to comfort both of us more than anything, but something holds me back.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says over her shoulder.
“What?” I say, concerned by the seriousness of her tone. Reaching for her, I take her elbow and tug her back into bed. “Look at me.”
Jude sighs, shoulders slumping, then meets my gaze. The sadness in her eyes makes me recoil. My hand drops to the bed.
“Something’s really wrong, isn’t it? Was it your father? Are you okay?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Is it the deal?”
She glances away but says, “Yes. It is the deal, Nathan.”
A chill runs through me. “What’s wrong?”
Jude stares at me for a long moment. “Don’t take it.”
I gape at her. “What?”
“Don’t sign the deal.”
“Are you serious?”
“He wants an exclusivity rider, Nathan.”
“A what?”
“A line in the contract specifying that you’re only allowed to sell to him.”
“Is that normal?”
She shrugs. “It can be. In certain cases.”
“Has NBI done it before?”
“Once or twice.”
And it’s the way she says it that I know. Other companies had this line in their contract, and it ended horribly for them. Was this what Noah meant when he mentioned those companies that went bankrupt?
Is that what Northwood has planned for me?
“Why are you telling me this?”
She stares at me in confusion. “To warn you! You needed to know. Obviously.”
But is that it? Is it really that obvious? My mind flashes back to that night in the kitchen. “Why did you keep asking about my supply?”
She stills, her face paling. “I wasn’t the one who wanted to know.”
“It was Northwood, wasn’t it?” I snap.
She nods.
“Why?”
“Because … you don’t have a lot of supply, which means it’ll take longer for you to scale to the point where you can ship to NBI. Have you ever even tried making large batches? You could fail to deliver. So because of that, Northwood wants exclusivity.”
“And that’s the only reason?”
“That’s what he told me,” she says.
“But you think there’s more to it than that.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, Nate. I don’t know what to tell you. Northwood plays his cards close to his chest. But you needed to know. If he found out I told you …”
&nb
sp; “He’d what?”
She says nothing.
“What would he do, Jude?” I say, suddenly concerned not for myself, but her. “He wouldn’t fire you, would he?”
“No,” she says, rolling back out of bed. This time I let her go.
“Are you sure? Because you shouldn’t get into trouble just for—”
“I can’t do this anymore.”
I gape at her back. Something cracks in the center of my chest, but I refuse to believe it’s my heart.
“Can’t do … this?” I say, motioning toward the bed.
“Yes.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” she says firmly, still not quite meeting my gaze.
“I don’t believe you,” I say. “Thirty seconds ago you were practically begging me to take you.”
Jude groans, shaking her head. “Of course, you wouldn’t just accept it,” she mutters.
“Well, of course not! It makes no sense.”
She finally looks at me. I flinch at the cold resolve in her eyes.
“We should end this. There’s only a couple more days before I leave, anyway. We need to focus on Northwood’s presentation. You need to figure out if you’re willing to risk signing with him despite everything I’ve told you. I’ve already told you what I think about that, but you need to decide on your own. Talk to Noah about how you want to approach the negotiation. He has more experience than you do.
“Either way, I shouldn’t be part of the decision. But you’re going to need to know your answer going into this meeting with Northwood, because he’ll be out for blood. I don’t want to see you walk away with a deal that might end up hurting you. So yeah, we’re getting too distracted by … this.” She motions to the bed.
Something awful claws its way up my throat, something I shy away from identifying, but that nevertheless causes my voice to rise. “Since there’s only a few days left, why wouldn’t we continue? What’s the point of finishing early?”
Her gaze skitters away again. “I disagree. We need to present a professional front to Northwood. Believe me, that’s more important than anything. If we’re still sleeping together, it’ll color our every word. He’ll know. I thought it wouldn’t matter, but it does. I should have known better.
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