While I agree with Noah and Jude that I shouldn’t sign the deal, there’s still this morbid sense of curiosity as to what he’ll try to do. Maybe it’s just my small-town life, but I’ve never dealt with an actual criminal before. Will he really demand exclusivity like Jude said? Will he try for something more, like Noah’s convinced he’ll do? I have no idea, but I have to hear him out.
Not just for me, but for Jude, too.
This deal was supposed to give her the promotion. We may no longer be sleeping together, and I may be hurt that she ended it so coldly, but I still like her, damn it. Do I really want to be the one responsible for her losing her promotion? It’s not my fault, but refusing the deal has to mean she won’t get it.
I don’t want to take that from her. Especially not after she warned me about Northwood’s plans. She had to know doing so meant not getting her promotion.
But she won’t let me ask her about it. That’s the worst part. Whenever I try to figure out for sure whether she stands to lose the promotion if I turn down the deal, she deflects and changes the subject.
How am I supposed to know the right thing to do? Either I sign a deal that might hurt my company, or she doesn’t get her promotion. Either way, one of us loses.
By the time Northwood returns on Friday, his suits in tow, I’m so emotionally exhausted I just want the whole thing to be over. After making the necessary niceties, I lead the trio into the back room where Jude is already set up. She doesn’t glance up from checking the presentation we’ve created one last time.
“Jude,” Northwood says, studying her the moment he enters the room. “You look … well.”
“Thank you, sir,” she says perfunctorily.
Northwood’s eyes narrow, his face growing even shrewder when she barely bothers to look up. “It was my understanding that Mr. King would make the presentation. It being his company, after all.”
That gets her attention. Jude’s head snaps up, her gaze flicking warily from Northwood to me. We stare at each other, really stare at each other, for what seems like the first time in forever.
Well, this is starting out even worse than expected.
“Yes, of course,” she finally says. “I just wanted to ensure I came fully prepared.”
“I see.”
“Why don’t we all take a seat,” I say. “Would you care for a glass of Old Abe’s, Charles?” Maybe that will put him in a better mood. At this rate, I’m not even going to want to hear his offer.
“No, thank you. It’s a little early, I’m afraid.”
So no joviality this time around. I can’t say I’m surprised. Jude shakes her head slightly in warning when I glance at her surreptitiously.
“How was your flight in, sir?” I say. I have to say something.
Northwood shrugs. “It went well enough. When you fly private, it’s not as exhausting.”
“I would imagine so.”
“So your time here went well, Jude?”
“It was fine,” she says cautiously.
“Did you learn all the secrets of Mr. King’s remarkable bourbon?”
Her eyes narrow. “If you’re asking whether I believe Old Abe’s would be an excellent addition to NBI’s portfolio, then the answer is yes.”
“Yes, I’m sure you think that,” he says mildly. “Do you have a printed copy of the presentation?
Jude slides one over to him. We watch in silence as Northwood flicks through the packet, nodding to himself from time to time. His face is expressionless; he could be reading a phone book, he’s so calm.
He must be trying to make me sweat, make me desperate so that I’ll accept any deal he throws at me. The asshole.
Northwood looks up a few minutes later. “Well, yes, it certainly is all here. You really outdid yourself with those capacity numbers. You were more thorough than I expected.”
“I wanted to give you an adequate picture of where I’m at with the label,” I say.
Northwood passes the packet to one of the suits, who frowns deeply but nevertheless tucks it into his briefcase. I dart a glance at Jude. She sits ramrod straight, her face pale. She looks like she’s bracing for the worst. Horrible guilt washes through me, because I know, staring at this dick of a man, that I could never work with him. I could never sign a contract with someone who’s so obviously dismissive of my product.
And I could certainly never work with someone who treats his employees as derisively as he’s treating Jude right now.
And that must mean she’s not getting her promotion anytime soon.
“Is there anything you’d like me to address,” I say, although why I even care at this point, I’m not sure. It’s almost like he knows I’m about to turn him down.
Northwood shrugs indolently. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Why not?” asks Jude. “You always ask questions.”
“It’s unnecessary, Jude, because there will be no partnership between NBI and Old Abe’s.”
Whoaaa, what? No deal at all? What the fuck? But Jude said he just wanted to get better terms for NBI. Heavily weight the deal in his favor. I’ve been agonizing over whether or not to accept for days, and now he’s not even offering? It’s almost as if …
He came in here never intending to make a deal.
Jude gapes at him. “No deal? But that’s not … is this some kind of mistake?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“That makes no sense. You know this brand has the potential to widen our customer demographic. People who are usually turned off by bourbon’s strong taste might actually drink this stuff. The peach flavor mellows it right out.”
Northwood says nothing, then makes that infuriating shrug again.
I’ve had enough.
“Why don’t you just go ahead and tell us what this is really about?”
Jude’s head snaps toward me, but I don’t look at her, too busy locking eyes with Northwood, who stares back with satisfaction.
I fold my arms over my chest, glaring at him. Ever since Jude told me Northwood wanted exclusivity, I’ve been waiting for the shoe to drop. Now that it is, I just want to get to the bottom of it, so I can kick him out and then try to convince Jude to stay for another day or two. I’d take just one more hour if it meant I could have her a final time.
If I’d known the last time we made love would be the final time, I would have made it count. I would have done my damnedest to make sure she never forgets the incredible time we had together.
But that’s for later.
“You and I both know my label has something to offer your customers,” I say. “And you’re shooting it down. Be man enough to tell me to my face why that’s the case.”
Northwood leans back, crossing an ankle over one knee. He’s the picture of calm. The bastard is enjoying this.
“Well, you should already know. As part of my due diligence—standard operation, you understand—I spoke with your loan servicer, and they expressed doubts as to your ability to pay back the loan. Apparently, they miscalculated your creditworthiness, Mr. King.”
What the actual fuck? “What? Whoever you spoke to is straight-up lying. I haven’t even used the funds yet.”
Northwood shrugs. “Then you might need to call your banker. Mr. Lipton painted a very different picture for me, I assure you.”
He called Michael Lipton? Fucking hell. How did he even find him in the first place? The only person who knew was—
No. It can’t be.
“This is absurd. A complete fabrication,” I say flatly, hoping I’m wrong about what I’ve just realized. But what I want to know is what put Lipton up to this. He’s an asshole, but he’s also a greedy asshole. He gave me the loan for the bar, and I paid him back early. No way he doesn’t want more of my business.
“Sir, I’m sure you meant well, but I’m afraid you might be—”
“I am not mistaken, Miss Shaw,” says Northwood. He reaches into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a paper. He tosses it across the tab
le to me.
“What the hell is this?” I snarl.
“I suggest you read it,” he says.
Glaring at him, I unfold the paper and then quickly scan its contents, my eyes widening in growing disbelief. The letter is none other than an attestation from Michael Lipton that he believes I lied on my loan application and that he will be taking action to recoup the funds from me—and prosecute me to the fullest extent of the law.
“This is libelous,” I growl.
Northwood shrugs yet again, like he can’t be bothered either way. But behind that cool demeanor, something flashes in his eyes, so quickly I nearly miss it. And now, in the end, I finally understand it. The bastard is enjoying this. He flew all the way across the country just to see my face when he shot me down. The petty fuck.
Northwood climbs to his feet. “In any case, I expect that your next few months will be spent defending yourself from a case of fraud. Could be longer. Either way, now’s probably not the best time for you to expand your business. Maybe in a year or two. I’ll just let you keep that. I already made a copy.”
“This is outrageous, Charles. You and I both know this isn’t true. This is a man’s life you’re messing with,” snaps Jude. But I don’t look at her. Can’t make myself.
She’s already done enough.
“This is my business as well, Miss Shaw. And I don’t get into bed with liars as a general rule.”
Jude scoffs.
Northwood’s gaze narrows on her. “I’d be careful what you say next, Miss Shaw.”
“Or you’ll do what?” she snaps.
Northwood stares at her coolly. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I will do.” He turns back to me. “Be glad I’m not putting my own weight behind this suit. I could go after you for negotiating in bad faith, but that would be piling on, wouldn’t it?
Oh, yes, so magnanimous of him. Like he’s not the one responsible for getting Lipton to write that statement in the first place. For whatever reason, he wanted my banker to interfere, wanted an excuse to back out at the last minute.
Which means only one thing.
“You planned this.”
Northwood smiles. It’s the smallest smile, but it’s there and all the confirmation I need.
“You did,” I say again. “You planned this from the beginning, didn’t you?”
“Now, Mr. King. That’s an egregious claim. I’ve more than adequately demonstrated my willingness to make a deal with you. Regrettably, it fell apart on your end. These things happen. Perhaps in the future, when your solvency issues have been addressed, we might try again.”
He gets to his feet. “I’ll see myself out. I just wanted to deliver the news in person, Mr. King. See your face firsthand, so to speak. Defrauding a lending institution is a serious accusation. I certainly hope you can get that worked out on your end quickly. Now, I trust you’ll follow us to the airport, Jude? I’ll expect you on the plane home with us.”
“I knew you were up to something,” I snarl. “They told me—”
Northwood raises a brow when I cut myself off. “Oh? Who told you what, Mr. King?”
And I should do it. I should tell him that Jude’s the one who tipped me off. Try to even the score after what Jude did. It’s the least that she deserves. But then as I glance at her, take in her sickened expression, even now, despite everything, I still can’t do it. I can’t be the one to crater her career—even if she’s cratered mine.
“Oh, you know,” I say vaguely, “word gets around.”
“Then may this be a lesson to you, Mr. King. In business, there’s always some truth to rumors. However, in this regard, you are mistaken. I had every intention of working with you. You did this to yourself. Good luck, son.” Northwood stretches out a hand, which I refuse to shake. He shrugs again, turns, and leads his twin dicks of lawyers out of the room.
That lying asshole.
“Nate, I am so sor—”
“How could you?” I snarl, whirling on her.
She takes a step back. “What?”
I stalk toward her. “How. Could. You? Did you always intend to screw me, or did you just see this as a convenient way to get your boss out of a deal?”
“What are you even talking about?” she asks, her face paling.
“The bank,” I yell. “You’re the only one who knew. You’re the only one I told about the loan in the first place.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Jude
No matter what I say, no matter how many times I tell him I never told Northwood about his loan, Nathan doesn’t believe me. He tells me to go, absolutely refuses to hear another word from me. I drive out of Ovid behind Northwood’s town car, wondering if I’ll ever see the town again.
What a horrible way for it to end. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes that final time; his betrayed expression hurt more than anything my emotionally unavailable parents have told me in my entire life.
I have no idea how to fix this.
When we reach the jet, I follow my boss up the air-stairs and sink into the seat across from Northwood, the one he always demands I use. I can’t stand the sight of him, can’t even bear to look in his general direction when all I want to do is claw that irritatingly smug face and give him an actual thing to bitch about.
Something needs to be done about Charles Northwood. He can’t continue getting away with this. He needs to be stopped before he ruins Nate’s life. Nathan could end up in court. Even worse, he could end up in prison.
“Yanking his loan was a bridge too far,” I say quietly after we’ve taken off. I stare out the window, watching the Georgian landscape disappear below us and wondering if I’ll ever see the state again.
“It’s unfortunate for the boy, but it’s not our concern.”
“Not our concern? You’re the reason he’s going to have to deal with it in the first place!”
Northwood sighs. “Jude, it seems that you’re accusing me of something I didn’t do. I never set out to get him into trouble. But I did have a duty to make sure that a potential partner was able to fulfill his end of the contract. So I called the banker, and he told me his concerns. It really was that simple. That was mere due diligence on my part. It would have been irresponsible of me to ignore the information.”
“How did you even know he had the loan in the first place?”
Northwood’s eyes narrow. “Yes, that is another thing for us to discuss. You never told me about that loan, did you?”
“It never seemed relevant. Most companies have loans,” I say defiantly. And it’s true. I never considered the loan an issue. Nathan’s bar is so packed all the time, and his bourbon is so good, I always assumed he’d have no trouble paying it. I never thought it would be an issue.
How wrong that turned out to be.
“So how did you find out about the loan?” I ask again, struggling to remain calm.
Northwood shrugs. “I hired an investigator, obviously. One who specializes in corporate information. Frankly, I could have hired a regular old P.I. It’s not like King was trying to hide it. Not everything has to be learned through subterfuge, Jude. Sometimes you can just hire someone to do a search, you know.”
What a convenient explanation. I yearn to ask him what he offered Lipton in exchange for writing that letter, but I know better than to accuse Northwood of something without proof. So instead, I ask the only question I can.
“You told me you wanted to sign him. Even more than that, you said you wanted exclusivity!”
“Full exclusivity to a company on its way to bankruptcy is worse than worthless. That should be self-apparent.”
“Sir, I would advise you to keep the lines of communication open. You and I both know that his product is exceptional. His problem at the bank might blow over. It could be a misunderstanding.”
“I do not expect that to be the case. I made quite sure with Lipton that he was serious about his accusation against King.”
And I’m just supposed to believe that this fell in
his lap? Right as he was about to sign? Does he really think I was born yesterday?
“Well, as soon as he gets it worked out, one of our competitors is going to snap him up. We could be missing out at getting in on the ground floor of something great.”
Northwood stares at me in amusement. “This isn’t Silicon Valley, Jude. I’m not an investor. I’m not here to invest in companies that are trying to get up and running. I’m not a charity. My job is to bring companies into my portfolio that are already ready to distribute. Nathan King’s label isn’t. He isn’t worth the risk. It’s that simple. You should know that.”
I return my gaze to the window. Something nags at me. Something that’s been nagging at me that I still haven’t been able to put together.
Inspiration dawns. I turn back to him. He’s absorbed in one of the reports he left behind when he came to the meeting.
“What do you get out of this?”
He sighs and lowers the report to the table in front of him. “What do you mean?”
“Just that. What do you get out of this? You went through all of this trouble to come out here to meet with Nathan. It was a huge investment of time on your part. And now it all fell apart. If you really wanted, you could work with the bank to help his situation. That would allow you to bring him into the portfolio. But you aren’t. And that makes no sense. So again, what did you get out of all of this?”
Northwood smiles at me with genuine respect. “You always have had a head for business, Jude. It must be in your blood. I met your parents once. Did you know that? At some event. I can’t recall. But I distinctly remember talking to them and thinking ‘Ah. I can see where she gets it.’”
“You haven’t answered my question,” I say through gritted teeth.
He shrugs. “Nothing. I got nothing out of it, Jude.”
Lush (The King Cousins Book 1) (The King Brothers 4) Page 23