Bruised (Hunt Brothers Saga)

by Timothy S. Allen

  “I know we had said $5 million for 30 percent,” I said. “Let’s change that. We’ll go $5 million for 27 percent. And we promise to offer at least an hour a week of our time, up to five hours a week of finance and decision making consulting. If we fail to meet that—and we’ll make sure it’s contractually stated—we’ll let our percent drop to 22 percent. We’ll just give you shares back, no questions asked, no paperwork, no legalities. It’ll just go straight to you. That will hold until you go public or until you get completely bought out.”

  I really wanted to become CFO or COO of this company, for how little leadership Andrew actually had, but that felt like too bold of an ask this early in the game. Better, I thought, to put my foot in the door, make Andrew realize over time our value, and then position myself for such a role.

  None of it would happen, though, if Andrew didn’t agree to this.

  “I just don’t like saying no,” he said. “It’s down to you two but I had about six different capitalists and investors on board. The rest I had to have a colleague reach out to. I felt like a coward, but...”

  “We all do at times,” I said, thinking about the many times I wish I had stood up to Edwin Hunt—and how, even now, to a certain extent, I was taking advantage of Andrew’s personality for my own gain. “But being a coward doesn’t prevent you from having to make a choice. We’re putting it on paper that we will mentor you. If you still want to go with Hunt Industries, so be it. But know, Andrew, that this is the real deal. This is us putting our stake on the line. That’s not insignificant.”

  Outside, the bustle of San Francisco had begun to pick up. The sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon, and soon, the Bay Area would light up into a new kind of night life.

  But in here, it just felt like things were getting started.

  “OK,” Andrew said. “Give me some time alone. I need to think of some things.”

  “Understood,” I said. “I’ll call you in two hours.”

  “OK.”

  I left and took a stroll to my hotel. I had no idea if what I had just done would work or not, but in telling Andrew what was essentially the unvarnished truth, I had taken a swift bat to my adoptive father’s ideas and smashed them to smithereens. I would not engage in questionably ethical behavior. I would not lie and promise the moon when I couldn’t even give or care to give a rock. I would not act in my own self-interest, at least not to the degree that the other person would suffer.

  Instead, I would tell the truth and nothing but the truth. If Andrew told us that he had gone with Hunt Industries, at least I could go down having seen my career perish because of the truth. Morgan would suffer, and I wouldn’t get off scotch-free, but...

  It was a nice thought to console myself with.

  But given how much was riding on the line with this deal, it wasn’t enough to quell the nerves and anxiety beginning to take over me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I called Andrew two hours later, only to have it go to voicemail and then receive a text message.

  “I’m going to take everything I know and make a decision. Will get back to you around 11:30 tomorrow. Thanks for coming out here, really appreciate it.”

  Once again, I knew how Edwin Hunt would react in such a spot. He would find a way to force himself into the conversation, using tenants of the art of the deal, and find a way to get a selfish deal done that in no way benefited the other party. If he could undercut someone else who had aspirations of succeeding, well, all the better for him.

  But I just could not do that anymore. I saw what damage Edwin had done to me and what kind of damage Craig did to his niece through acting so ruthlessly and cruelly. Maybe I was soft. Maybe, despite my appearances, I was just a giant bitch who couldn’t act and make a move when he had to.

  I said fuck that. No. There was a difference between tough and conniving. There was a difference between firm and greedy. There was a difference between gentle and soft. My mission to prove I could make money without the help of Edwin Hunt was as much about proving Mr. Hunt’s methods wrong as it was proving the man wrong. Even if Morgan had suggested I use my looks and charm to seduce Claire, I was not going to engage in such underhanded tactics.

  Granted... that was easy here. Andrew was a man. I wasn’t sexually attracted to men. I could easily play it straight. Claire was a relatively small fish in the investment scene, so the damage I would have done there wouldn’t have hurt as much.

  But what would happen later on a larger scale?

  We’d have to find out.

  I didn’t sleep at all that evening. Sometimes I felt great about my chances, other times I felt nihilistic and began researching places I could move to across the globe. Sometimes I felt true and honest to my beliefs, and other times I felt like a giant hypocrite full of shit. Sometimes I was on the verge of sleeping, and then at the last second, an anxiety-provoking thought would jolt me awake, making it impossible for me to fall asleep.

  11 p.m. Midnight. 1 a.m. 2 a.m.

  Even as I would have seen the sun rise on the east coast, I couldn’t fall asleep. Morgan texted me more than once, also unable to sleep. He had work with his father the next day; I could only imagine the hell he would go through if his father found out in the afternoon that his own son—and me, but he didn’t give a true shit about me—undercut him. It would be a miserable experience that might just break that family apart.

  2:30 a.m.

  Layla and Claire had not yet texted me on this trip. Layla didn’t have a reason to after our most recent conversation, and Claire knew I was here on business. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to hear from at least one of them. At least then I could have something to distract me from the chaos of business.

  Instead, I relied on ESPN and other sports to take up my mind, but they didn’t do nearly as good a job as a beautiful woman I would soon be home to.

  I thought about the previous night with Claire, how incredibly powerful I had felt in that moment. And I knew exactly why I had felt so real, so raw.

  Sure, part of it was just not having had sex in about a month beforehand. Part of it was the rebound aspect. Part of it was the “forbidden fruit” part in that neither of us were probably supposed to hook up with the other.

  But the real reason was that we were truthful with each other.

  I wouldn’t pretend to be clairvoyant with Layla and say that my dick knew she was full of it when we were hooking up, but her suspicious behavior—constantly leaving me hanging, her willingness to fuck me in the office but then not talk to me for a week—always left me wondering what the hell was going on. With Claire, there was zero doubt where I stood at all times.

  All these thoughts did, though, was allow me to kill a few more hours before the judgment time.

  I think around 4 a.m., I finally dozed off, but it didn’t last long, because I forgot to shut the blinds in my hotel and the rising sun woke me around 6:45 a.m. I fought with all my damn power to go back to sleep, but it had about as much effect as trying to tell Edwin Hunt to be an honest, fully upfront person.

  I went downstairs, ate some breakfast, and headed back to my hotel room where I moped and tried to pass the time as best as I could. 8 a.m.

  9 a.m.

  10 a.m.

  We were only an hour and a half away from the all-important decision. Morgan bombarded my phone like a love-struck teenager. I felt tempted to text Andrew and ask him for a decision like an impatient love-struck teenager. I kept checking my phone like a desperate, impatient, love-struck teenager.

  But like that teenager who can only learn through time that patience wins battles, I had to just sit there and stew.

  At 11 a.m., I started contemplating good luck charms. I had never been that superstitious a person, but I kept looking for signs. It was a rare sunny day in San Francisco, which seemed awfully promising. I felt as fresh as I ever had after my shower. Even Claire shot me a text around 11:21 a.m., asking if I had heard anything.

  11:29.

&n
bsp; Well, however this is supposed to go, it’ll go.

  Maybe if he was going to say no, he would have messaged me by now. If he was going to make a decision to say no, he would have informed me first so that word wouldn’t trickle to us through third parties.

  But then again, maybe 11:30 is when—

  11:30.

  For what felt like the world’s longest minute—not even Einstein could say time traveled this slowly—I sat watching my phone, waiting for a 415 number to call me or for Andrew’s name to pop up. I almost had to laugh at myself for how ridiculous this was, except for the fact that the future of MCH depended significantly on it.

  Then the clock turned to 11:31.

  He forgot. Goddamnit, he—

  My phone rang. Andrew Patel was calling me.

  Feeling like I’d never felt around women—not even twelve-year-old Chance felt this nervous around Sarah Hill, my first crush of any consequence—I put my finger on the answer button, pressed it, and held it to my hand.

  “Hey, Andrew, how are you?”

  It all sounded so obvious I was nervous I don’t even know why I tried to hide it. I might as well have let my voice crack and sound like an acne-riddled, awkward teenager.

  “Good, good, thank you, and yourself, Chance?”

  He also sounded equally nervous. I tried my best not to read into it too much, which of course meant I read into it from every conceivable angle.

  “I am good, thank you,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve had a long night.”

  Andrew gave a laugh that I thought was polite.

  “Actually, it was a pretty easy night, we didn’t have a hard decision to make.”

  It was slowly beginning to dawn on me what Andrew meant. He was far too nice of a person to turn this into a troll.

  “After we talked to you, I realized that your offer was not only the most generous to us, your willingness to put it into writing that you would mentor us was something no one else ever offered us,” he said.

  I began smiling so wide I thought I might strain my jaw.

  “Our biggest obstacle right now is having people who can go out there and pitch our product. I know we have an incredibly valuable product. But I also know that if we don’t have people putting it out there, we won’t do well. You and Morgan are two very extroverted, confident people. Charming, handsome, you know, all that good stuff.”

  Andrew laughed a bit nervously. I did too, but that was just because I had so much excitement built up I had to let it escape somehow.

  “So, with that all said, Chance, we would love to have you and Morgan be our investors.”

  “YEAH!”

  I shouted and clapped my hands, no matter how unbecoming of an investor it might seem. The hell was I supposed to do, be the model of stoicism? There was no chance.

  We’d done it! We’d gotten the missing piece we needed to keep MCH afloat! Not only that, but now Morgan was in a position to quit his job at Hunt Industries. Oh, undoubtedly, the fallout was going to be brutal and the next couple of weeks were going to suck with Edwin Hunt. Who even knew if holiday reunions would ever be the same.

  But you know what? In that very moment, I did not give a shit. I had won, baby. And in comparison to the disaster that was the end of the Taylor’s family business, I desperately needed this.

  “Are you still there, Chance?”

  “Sorry, sorry,” I said, laughing. “I’m just thrilled you joined us. I think Morgan and I are going to make you a very happy and, frankly, a very rich person when all is said and done.”

  “That’s the plan,” Andrew said laughing. “Do you want to tell Morgan or should I?”

  “I can do that,” I said. “You just let me know if there’s anything else that needs to be done.”

  “Well, actually, want to come by the office here in 30?”

  Did I?

  Oh, did I ever.

  We we re about to need a whole lot more pizzas.

  “You know it. I will head over there right now.”

  “Great. Thank you so much, Chance.”

  I hung up and immediately dialed Morgan’s phone number. It went to voicemail, which I wasn’t that surprised by since he still would have been in the office, but I just assumed that he would call back in short time. I quickly left the hotel room, packing my stuff for my flight home later that day, and began making my way down the stairs.

  Just as I exited the hotel, my phone buzzed. I looked down and saw Morgan’s name. Quickly, I picked it up.

  “Guess what?”

  “I know what, you little fucking prick.”

  My face dropped as I heard Edwin Hunt’s voice on the other side.

  “You boys think you’re so clever, pulling a fast one on me.”

  “Where’s Morgan?” I said, suddenly beginning to suspect an awful lot of terrible things.

  “Oh, he’s here. I confronted him five minutes ago. The boy broke so easily, I’m starting to wonder what Mrs. Hunt did to make him so soft.”

  So much of me wanted to reach through that phone and strangle the old man. What had he ever done to deserve being called my father? How could he possibly be surprised that his own son would rebel against him when he treated him less as a son and more as a business intern? How fucking clueless could Edwin Hunt be?

  “I’ve got Morgan right here, Chance, and I’m going to put you on speaker phone so that the two of you can here me loud and clear,” he said. “I will admit to being infuriated beyond all measure that you would persuade my only son to join you on this endeavor.”

  “Dad, it was—”

  “Shut up!” Edwin shouted. My face only grew redder by the second. Not only did Edwin deserve to be smacked around, he needed a lesson in reality. But to him, if reality didn’t bend to his will, then it wasn’t real. Morgan didn’t come up with the idea, no matter how much he said so. I did.

  Fucking idiot.

  “Neither of you boys will speak until I allow it,” Edwin said. I was half a second away from telling him to fuck off—the only reason I didn’t was out of concern for Morgan. “Now, you boys have made a real ass out of yourselves. Your business reputation can be ruined in a matter of minutes if you defy me, and don’t think I won’t pull the trigger. I’ve fucked over many people before who dared to fight me, and I’m not about to let you two be the first to get away with it.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “But, I will admit, I am impressed with what you did. We sure as hell don’t have any business analysts your age acquiring deals like you did on companies worth eight figures. Most especially in a company that has the future of home purchases. I am enraged, but I am not a fool.”

  Debatable.

  “I have offered you many times before, Chance, a role in my company. For some stupid reason, you seem to think you don’t need me. I do not understand your line of reasoning, boy, but I will allow it to immaturity and the stupidity of youth. However, understand this. I will give you a job for seven figures a year, right this instance. I will provide you every type of benefit you could ever think of. You want a plane ride anywhere in the globe? Hunt Industries has you covered. You need help with the law? Hunt Industries knows who to cover. You need to pay someone off? Hunt Industries has that taken care of to.”

  I already knew where this was going. We were wasting time, especially since Virtual Realty’s office was now in sight.

  “You just need to let me take control of that investment that you just agreed to,” Edwin said, putting on a fake charming voice. “I know you boys have skill in negotiating. But the skill to follow through on that offer is not an easy one—in fact, it’s very, very different. So tell me, Chance, Morgan. You boys have the chance to do the right thing. What’s it going to be?”

  “Morgan?”

  I didn’t want to put him on the spot. But I knew my answer already, and it was not without expletives and swears at the old man. If I spoke for the group, I would have sunk both of us.

  But I couldn’t speak for Morgan
. I had no idea if he was in his father’s office or in some other location. Only he knew what consequences he would be facing for the decision we had made and the fallout. Only he could face them and handle them. I would just remain in the same spot I always had—as an outsider who got by on the graces of Mrs. Hunt and Morgan.

  The only difference would be the degree to which Edwin Hunt disliked me. Instead of seeing me as an object in the room to ignore, he would see me as a viral pestilence to his well-being and existence.

  My only regret was that if Morgan agreed to the deal with his father, MCH would fall apart and I would be back to being on my own. But, well, that’s what I had always wanted, so I guess it wouldn’t have been that bad, huh?

  “Dad,” Morgan said on the other line. His voice sounded surprisingly together. “All my life, you have raised me to be the heir to Hunt Industries. You have never bothered to ask me what I really wanted to do. You never gave me a choice. It’s no wonder that I started our partnership. When suffocated, people will do whatever they can to escape.”

  I could hear the intensity of Edwin’s breathing increase.

  “The funny thing is, I know I’m throwing away a ton of money and taking a huge risk by going on this path. But Chance has shown me something, Dad. He’s shown me that you can not just fail, but get publicly embarrassed and humiliated and thrown down by someone like you—yes, I know what you did with Craig Taylor—and still emerge strong. If that’s not strength of a man, I don’t know what is.”

  “You’re out of your damn mind, boy,” Edwin snarled.

  “Maybe I am, but I’d rather be out of my mind than out of any freedom,” Morgan said. “So no, I’m not going to take that offer.”

  “And I’m sure as hell not either, Edwin,” I said.

  “You both are goddamn fucking lunatics,” Edwin said. “Chance, go the fuck away and never let me see your adopted, worthless face ever again. Better yet, lose the goddamn last name. Morgan, you’re fired. Don’t you dare contact your mother, either.”