“That depends. Does anything I have to say matter, or have you already made up my mind for me?” I’m the tie-breaking vote on the board. Not that the vote isn’t always unanimous and perfectly aligned with Mother’s wishes. Sometimes, I vote against her just to be irritating, not that it matters. She’s got the board wrapped around her finger. I do it out of spite.
Time. All I have to do is wait. I’d be a better son if she’d been a better mother. I’m not proud of this.
“I expect you at the office at seven sharp. The first proposal begins at eight.”
“Why do I need to be there an hour early?” It’s been difficult getting out of bed early lately. I’m preoccupied with thoughts of Quinn after I wake. “You have my notes.”
I went over all fifty proposals a second time and came up with the same ten potentials. MindScapeVR remains in the top ten, but will lose out due to a fragmented, and ultimately doomed, business plan. We provide capital, not handholding.
In addition, since I have intimate knowledge about the fiasco brewing between MindScapeVR’s CEO and Creative Head, I should amend my list and place them at the bottom. The only reason I don’t is because Mother will ask questions I don’t want to answer. There’s no way I’m telling her how I know about MindScapeVR’s pending implosion.
Mother snaps her fingers, and Bruce rushes in to clear our plates. No sooner is the table cleared than he brings in a set of files. Mother is old school and refuses to go digital. She forces us to print everything and place them into folders like we’re back in the seventies.
She flips through the stack. “You have great insight, son, but lack the tenacity for this job. I want to show you the difference between being passable at your job and being great.”
I brace for a verbal dressing down. She’s getting ready to rake me over the coals, highlighting my presumed ineptitudes. Amazing how she ignores the success Sterling Enterprises enjoys because of my leadership. I took a billion-dollar organization and tripled our portfolio in the last five years. It’s why Sterling Venture Capital Inc. exists today.
“PharmB is a promising company. They’re in FDA trials of their latest drug and are requesting research capital to explore an orphan drug for neuromuscular disorders. We will fund them.”
“Fine.” I agree with that. PharmB is quite promising, and their researchers are topnotch.
She flips through the top five proposals and tells me why SVC Inc. will fund their venture capital requests. There’s nothing new or unexpected in her final decisions. I shift in my seat, wondering why I’m even here.
“This one…” She picks up a folder with MindScapeVR prominently scrawled over the outside of the manila folder. “You say the idea has merit, but the business plan is flawed. I agree with that.”
“Are we going to sit here while you go over all the proposals only to tell me you agree with the report I sent over last month?”
“No.” She gives a sharp shake of her head. “I’m going to show you the difference between making a bad investment versus seeing potential and taking advantage of greatness.”
There’s an odd stirring in my gut. I don’t like the predatory gleam in her eyes. She lifts MindScapeVR’s proposal and tosses it at me.
“We can invest ten million,” she says. “And watch our investment go down the drain, or we can buy out the intellectual property and invest in it ourselves. We’ll make hundreds of millions off this idea, but not if we leave it in the hands of MindScapeVR. Tomorrow, you’ll buy them out.”
“Me?”
“You’ll offer five million. It’s more than generous, and after reviewing their finances, they’re starving for any cash. They’re lucky I’m willing to part with that much. It’s a generous offer, and you’ll use some of that Sterling charm to close the deal.”
“Generous? It’s highway robbery.” I can’t help the anger rising within me. My mother wants to steal Quinn’s idea and pay pennies on the dollar. I agree with my mother about the potential value of Quinn’s idea, but Mother isn’t thinking big enough. In the proper hands, we could be looking at billions.
We, meaning Quinn. A greedy company took advantage of her when she was young, stealing her creative brilliance to make millions while paying her less than ten thousand for the rights to her app. I won’t do that to her again. It’s not right. Not fair. And certainly not generous.
Quinn could be looking at billions. MindScapeVR’s adaptive learning process is her creation. Her hard work. I offer an alternative.
“We’ll give them the ten million, but stipulate Sterling Enterprises run the business.” It’s been done before, and there’s no way Scott is going to be involved. Not after what he did to my girl. Generally, SVC Inc. remains a silent partner, taking in a percentage of the revenue on the startups we fund, but our parent company Sterling Enterprises could step in and manage the project. We have the resources. “There’s no reason to buy out their intellectual property rights.” I stand firm and oppose my mother’s plans.
Quinn would be forever locked out of her creation if Mother gets her way. No matter my feelings regarding Quinn, this isn’t the kind of revenge I want. Actually, the more I think about it, I don’t want to do anything which will hurt Quinn. I come to a very sobering conclusion.
I have feelings for Miss Quinn Hayes, and there’s no way in hell Mother is going to take MindScapeVR away from Quinn. I won’t allow it.
“The papers are already drawn up. You’ll make the offer tomorrow when they present their idea to the board.”
“No, Mother. I won’t.”
“Yes, you will, and one more thing.” She tosses another folder in my direction and points her bony finger at it. “Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve. You will choose your bride by midnight, or I will choose for you.”
“You can’t force a marriage on me.” I scoot back in my chair, indignation rising. I don’t bother opening the folder. I know what I’ll see. Hopeful socialites, looking to improve their status by bartering their bodies to get their hands on me, not to mention the Sterling fortune. “That’s not how this works.”
She continues to jab her finger in the air. “There are ten to choose from, picked with meticulous care to meet your particular tastes. All fertile.”
“Fertile?” I laugh at the word.
“I ensured they were tested.”
“Wait a second, you tested these women?”
“Yes.”
“Let me get this straight.” I can’t believe the gall of my mother. “You tested them?”
“Of course, it was part of the selection process.”
“What did you do, send out a general bulletin soliciting a wife for me?”
“You make it sound crass. Each of those young ladies comes from a respectable family. Their pedigrees are superior. Any will make for a favorable merger. What you decide to do with your wife is of no concern to me, but you will fulfill your obligation to produce an heir. Your wife, will, of course, be bound by a fidelity clause for the first three years of your marriage to ensure the product of conception is a Sterling. Paternity testing is a requirement. After that, you can do what you want with your wife, except divorce.”
“You have some nerve, shackling me for life to a stranger. Using me as a stud to produce your heir. You’ve thought of everything, Mother Dearest, except for one thing.” She wants to lock me into a loveless marriage and set the terms of my marriage bed. “I’m surprised you haven’t slapped a fidelity clause on me as well, making sure I don’t inadvertently spread my seed.”
“Men’s urges are impossible to control. I know better than to—restrict—you like that.” Her mouth twists on the words. “No bastard can claim the Sterling fortune. You’ll announce your engagement tomorrow night. I suggest you take a long hard look at that portfolio.”
“You control many things in my life, Mother, but you can’t have that.” I slap my napkin down on the table and stand. “That’s ridiculous, even for you.” I pick up the portfolio of potential Sterling wives and fl
ing it across the table. Glossy 8x10’s of beautiful women fly through the air.
She doesn’t even flinch at my outburst. Instead, she shakes her head and clicks her tongue. It’s a look I know entirely too well.
I’m immediately transported to the past when I was a sad little boy denied any compassion by a mother without the capacity to love. My gut twists, and I press my palm to my chest. I’m thirty years old and it still hurts as much as it did back then.
Her gaze settles on the photos and accompanying dossiers. “Choose wisely, Son, and make your announcement tomorrow night.”
“And if I don’t? You can force me to marry, but you most certainly can’t force me to fuck any of these women.”
Her eyes flare at my vulgarity. Mother abhors swearing in any form, and I used the most offensive curse word. It takes her a minute to respond, and I take great pleasure in watching her compose herself. For a moment, I think she’ll lob a return shot at me, but she doesn’t. She collects herself and launches an attack I don’t see coming. In cold, calculated words, she reasserts who’s in charge.
“If you don’t announce your engagement tomorrow night, then I have made arrangements for Sissy to be re-homed.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” My plans for Cherise will take time. More time than I have in the next twenty-four hours. “You may not love me, but you care deeply for your daughter. That’s an empty threat, Mother.”
“Appearances are deceiving, and when have you ever known me to make an empty threat? I know all about your visit with Sissy and your conversation with management that followed. You will do as you’re told.” She snaps her fingers and Bruce comes running. He gathers all the papers and photos, placing them neatly back inside the folder. With his hand shaking, he holds the folder with its dossiers and pedigreed hopefuls out to me. “You have until tomorrow night.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Sissy will be moved to a place where you’ll never find her.”
It shouldn’t surprise me Mother knows about my plans for Cherise, but I’m taken completely by surprise that she would use Cherise against me.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“It’s already done. Do as your told and Sissy will return from her brief adventure. Refuse, and you’ll never see your sister again.”
“You fucking bitch.” I grab the folder out of Bruce’s hand and storm out of my mother’s home. The first thing I do is call Cherise. When there’s no answer, I call Mrs. Sampson. It takes but a moment to confirm the truth. Mother checked Cherise out of the home for a ‘family’ vacation.
Not that I should be surprised. Mother never bluffs.
Thirty-One
Quinn
Christmas with my family is everything I hoped it would be. Gone are the garish silver and gold decorations from my office party. So too are ocean breezes, tropical palms, and the whispers of a man capable of breaking my heart. I tell myself to be strong. That I made the right choice.
My heart wouldn’t survive a loss that profound.
As I sit in my mother’s home, surrounded by the pungent aroma of pine, cinnamon, and spice, the deep greens and warm reds of Mother’s homemade decorations fill every nook and cranny with cozy, festive, holiday cheer.
I’ve never felt this bereft and hollow inside, mourning the loss of a lover I turned away from.
My brothers stalk around me, grumbling about that damn pinky swear. They believe my sour mood stems from heartache over my loss of Scott. Little do they know the true reason my heart bleeds.
Mother and Daddy listen as I tell them the news. They surround me with love, support my grief, and cheer me toward a brighter future and a better year to come. They don’t seem that upset, which brings up all manner of questions. I sense great relief on their part.
Did everyone but me dislike Scott? What did they see that I did not?
Not that it matters now. Scott is out of my life.
Almost. There’s still something that ties us together. My dream keeps me moving forward. I can’t give it up.
With my brothers hanging around me, shooting the shit and bragging about their tall tales, I log into my email account with my breath held tight. I expect to see the same flurry of desperate emails from Scott as the texts he sent before I blocked his number. Actually, I blocked both Scott and Sadie, sparing me from wading through the dozens of text messages they kept sending. Sadie’s sounded more and more desperate while Scott’s became more demanding and angry.
The flood of emails brings a hitch to my breath. Most are from Scott. I scan them quickly then give up. A quick sort groups them all together. I select them all and delete everything with one press of a button. I do the same with Sadie’s emails.
Then I dive in and begin the task of recovering from nearly a week away from my inbox. I see one from Ted, my lead engineer, marked URGENT and open it to read the body of his email.
Subject: URGENT
Q! Where are U? Please respond the moment you get this. Urgent meeting planned for Friday, Dec 31st. SVC Inc. demands meeting of MindScapeVR project team for IN PERSON presentation. I’ll be traveling to Atlanta on the 30th. Meeting is at two. CALL ME!
My gut clenches. This is big. Like huge. There’s no reason for SVC Inc. to demand an in-person presentation if they aren’t seriously considering funding our project.
And I almost missed it.
My fingers tremble as I pull up Tom’s number. He answers on the first ring.
“Q! Where the hell are you? Did you get my email?”
“Yes, I did. What’s going on?”
“You’d better get your ass to Atlanta by car, train, plane, or hell a boat if you can.” He continues on in a rush, telling me all about the short notice presentation. “They practically demanded it.”
Fortunately, I’m already in Atlanta. No need to hop in a car, ride a train, or attempt fate on a plane.
“Really?”
“Yes. Scott has been trying to get a hold of you. When he couldn’t…”
“I blocked him.”
“You what?”
My brothers give me side-eyes, listening in to my conversation. They’re well aware I’ve told no one at work about Scott and Sadie.
Gideon locks his jaw, suppressing a low growl, while Steven supports me with a nod, encouraging me to spill the beans. He wants everyone to know what a douchebag Scott is, hoping they’ll support me over him. That’s going to be problematic if we begin drawing lines in the sand and picking sides. It’s the best way to destroy us before we even begin.
“I blocked Scott.” I give in to Steven’s silent support and tell Tom what happened.
“That makes no sense.” Tom’s surprise is not unexpected. “How could he do that to you?”
I clench my phone as I try not to cry. “I don’t even know if I still work there.”
“What do you mean? Of course, you do.”
“I think I quit.”
“Look, I’m really sorry about what happened between you two, but I spoke to Scott yesterday. He’s the one who asked me to email you. I guess it makes a little more sense now. We need you. He can’t do this without you.”
It’s true. I’m the brains of the operation. Scott is merely the business manager.
“Tell me where and when and I’ll be there.” I’ll leave Scott in a lurch all damn day, but I won’t do that to my team. Whatever happened between us needs to stay between us. I have a lot of great programmers who need this project to launch their careers.
If we’re funded.
If we’re successful.
I can’t deny them that.
Honestly, there’s no reason I can’t be professional. Except for the ache in my heart. Scott’s betrayal cuts deep.
When I hang up, Gideon is by my side. He folds me against his massive frame and strokes his fingers through my hair. He knows how difficult it was to hold it together through that call.
“It’ll get easier.” His rumbly murmur almost makes me believe he’s right.
/> “Will it?”
“With time.” Gideon releases me. “So, what was that all about?”
I tell them about the meeting tomorrow.
“Why is that unusual?” Brett, who watched me through the entire phone conversation, leans forward. “Does something like that not happen?”
I understand his confusion. In construction, things are different. They often present their projects in person, submitting bids, and defending them. It’s simply not the same when trying to woo millions out of a venture capitalist. I’m sure there are many deals made at bars, on the golf course, and many other places, but that’s after an initial introduction. MindScapeVR is brand new, with no contacts. No visibility. We’ve cast a wide net, selling our idea to anyone who might listen, and this is the only bite we’ve received.
We’re beggars and well aware of our position.
Maybe next time, when we’re a success, we won’t be sitting at the far end of an electronic submission. Until then, we play the game and know our place.
“Not for SVC Inc. They have a strict online proposal submission process. I didn’t think they asked contenders in to pitch projects in person. I imagine they must get hundreds of proposals every year.”
“This must be a good sign then.” Brett takes a sip of his beer. “You must be a top contender.”
“I hope so.” I sit back down and rub my hands together. “At least if I don’t fuck things up because of Scott.”
“You know…” Gideon sits on the floor in front of me. He grabs the nearly half-empty tub of popcorn into his lap. “Scott won’t be a problem.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Easy because we’ll make certain of it.” His tone takes on a dangerous edge.
“What does that mean?”
“Only that you’re not going to face him alone.” He flashes a cheeky grin, but there’s no humor in his expression. Gideon shoves a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. “You’re going to have us.”
“Us?”
Hawke: Christmas in Paradise (Billionaire Boys Club) Page 22