“Sweetheart...” how had that slipped out? Sure, they were supposed to be playing The Newlywed Game, but sweetheart? She cleared her throat. “Don’t beat yourself up. We all missed obvious warning signs.”
Ethan smiled, a smile that lit up his eyes. When had he stopped wearing those black contacts that had made his eyes so cold and sinister? Had he made the change because she’d told him how much she liked his eyes? That idea made her happy.
Now that she thought about it, he’d done a lot of little things that made her happy like squeezing fresh orange juice for her each morning to wash down the pre-pregnancy vitamins he’d bought. Not to mention all of the stress-relieving orgasms that left her riding the waves on a sea of satisfaction. Every day brought a new little twist to their relationship that pulled him deeper into her heart. But clearing his calendar to work side-by-side with her to solve this riddle was the cherry on top of an already sinfully rich dessert.
Ethan checked his watch. “Let’s get some copies made. It’s almost showtime, and this whole thing is going to be one big impromptu tap dance.”
CHAPTER 46
ETHAN LOVED TO FREESTYLE. Using his knowledge and training as his box of colors, he’d managed to get creative over the years, wandering ever so slightly past the lines into uncharted territory before meandering slowly back to the strict confines of the law. And today, there wouldn’t be a stuffy judge to rein him back in. Oh, yeah, this was going to be fun.
“Okay, that’s the last of the copies. Now, let’s replace the originals in the envelopes. I think seeing the faded, tattered envelopes labeled with Irene’s unique handwriting will rattle them.”
Stephanie ran her finger over the stack of envelopes and picked up the one marked Walter Bengtsen. “Irene really was a grand old lady. I wasn’t being sarcastic when I said that. She’s always been a part of my life, but now, I’m not sure I ever knew her. It’s confusing.”
She sounded lost. Considering she’d had the rug pulled out from under her so many times, it was a wonder she was still functioning. She was a warrior. His warrior. And damn, didn’t that make her more desirable? How in the hell had he gotten so lucky?
Again, with the lucky? Yeah, he was one lucky bastard. And for once, that word didn’t send a shaft of icy pain through him. It was time to make peace with one important fact: you can’t choose your parents. Another fact? The choices your parents made before you were born did not define you. Another piece of his soul mended.
Because of Stephanie.
Ethan took her hand in his. “We have two more boxes to go through once we’ve annihilated your board of directors. Whatever is in them might shed some light on who she really was and why she did all of this. Don’t stress about that right now. There are a lot of variables, and I don’t exactly know what we’re walking into, but we’ll get through this—whatever the hell this is—together.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
The soft pressure she returned rocketed through him at warp speed. Innocent. Tender. Chaste. It short-circuited his nervous system, bypassed his dick, and hit him straight in the heart. If he’d had any doubt before, this simple hand-hug destroyed it. For better or for worse, an ironic choice of words if there ever was one, they were a team. They would weather this storm, and, hopefully, many storms to come.
“Thank you for doing this.” Her voice broke as she wiped away a tear. “I could have done this by myself, but knowing I didn’t have to makes a big difference.”
First, a compliment. Then, an apology. Now, a thank you. Little bits of common decency that hadn’t been all that common in Ethan’s life, landed on his emotional scale with a thud.
“You and me against the world, babe.” Oh, crap. The Webb kid mantra, minus the babe part. Now that he’d opened the door, ghosts, and demons, and, yes, emotions poured out of him. Hopes and dreams he’d buried so deep he thought they would never escape bombarded him. Talk about bad timing. He had a job to do, and he couldn’t afford this distraction. He shoved everything back behind his emotional door, slammed it shut, and mentally double-locked it. “What time is it?”
Deb finished changing Pete and settled him into the baby sling around her neck. “2:58. We should get to the boardroom.”
Ethan looked at Brian. “How long does it take to walk to the boardroom?”
Brian shrugged. “Thirty seconds, tops.”
Ethan stood and drew Stephanie into his arms. “Then we have six minutes and thirty seconds. Get these envelopes set up while I get into my zone.”
Stephanie pulled back. “I knew it! That first day in your office, you were exactly five minutes late. You did that on purpose!”
Ethan waggled his eyebrows. “Busted. But don’t forget the slamming door, the Grand Canyon between your chairs, and the overly dramatic entrance. It’s all part of my act, and it’s almost time for the curtain to go up again. Are you with me?”
“Always.” Stephanie leaned in for a kiss. “That’s for inspiration. Let’s do this.”
He pulled her back for another kiss. “How the hell am I supposed to be a fire-breathing dragon when all I want to do is drag you back to my cave and have my way with you?”
She chortled. “You’ll manage.”
Yeah, he would. He always did. He closed his eyes and willed himself into character. Somewhere beyond his developing persona, he heard Stephanie gasp. He knew how this process worked; he was an actor preparing to morph into a monster for his audience. He knew, even though he was a big man, he was growing, expanding, radiating power and danger, ready once again to give an Oscar-worthy performance. Yeah, he knew it was all theater, but successful theater.
His eyes flew open with a gasp. He took one deep breath, then another. “Let me go first. Stephanie and Deb, I need your best resting bitch faces, and Brian—oh, never mind, you’re scary enough. No one says anything unless I tell you to. Got it?”
Everyone nodded. He rolled his shoulders then rotated his head before picking up the envelopes. “Brian, bring up the rear. Slam this door as hard as you can, then slam the boardroom door harder.”
Aunt Deb nearly cackled. “Well, if that isn’t typecasting, I don’t know what is. I can’t tell you how many doors we’ve had to replace. Pretend Shane got under your skin again, dear.”
Brian gave his wife a sheepish grin. Were these people ever serious? “Whatever you need to get into character, do it! Follow me, it’s showtime!”
Even he could tell his words were harsher than he’d intended, but he was in full Esquire mode; it came with the territory.
Kerrigan employees unlucky enough to be in the brightly lit, silent hall jerked toward the sound of the slamming door and hastily made way for the mini-parade stalking toward the boardroom. Other employees, unlucky enough to be away from the action, and therefore the source of gossip, quickly joined their co-workers for an up-close and personal look at the unfolding drama.
Ethan drew from their curiosity and apprehension. He slowed his gait as he neared the boardroom, checked his watch, then burst into the room like a Sherman tank breaching the enemy line.
CHAPTER 47
THE CRASH OF THE BOARDROOM door echoed through the room as Ethan stomped to the conference table and slammed the envelopes onto its polished surface. His reward was a chorus of curse words that almost made him blush. Because he’d purged those words from his vocabulary years ago to ward off accidental contempt of court charges didn’t mean he’d forgotten them. It took all of his self-control to keep from parroting those vile words back to the six men ensconced around the enormous table.
He helped Stephanie settle into her seat and waited as Brian did the same for Deb. He turned to face the board, letting the silence build as he made smoldering eye contact with each man.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m Ethan Webb. I’m sure you all recognize your fellow board member, Brian Tobin, and his lovely wife Deb, who has graciously volunteered to keep my nephew Pete out of trouble.” As if he could have stopped her.
“And, of course, my lovely wife, Stephanie Kerrigan, your boss.”
“Not for much longer, I assure you.” Walter’s contempt couldn’t have been clearer if he’d hired Banksy to scrawl it on the boardroom wall.
And what was worse? Ethan calculated the odds at sixty-forty that Walter was right.
Okay, that might be a tad optimistic, but he’d overcome worse.
“Exactly why are you here, Mr. Webb? Isn’t there an ambulance you should be chasing?”
Ethan forced his eyes open wide. “Now, that’s funny,” he deadpanned. “I should use that line on my next order of business cards.” He pulled his open hand in an arc. “Ethan Webb, professional ambulance chaser. I like it.”
“Sarcasm aside, the last time I checked, you didn’t work here. You don’t own any stock. Smitty’s will hasn’t been probated yet, so your claim to control half of Miss Kerrigan’s stock may or may not be true. I’m not sure your so-called marriage to Miss Kerrigan is valid. I should have security remove you.”
And here Ethan had thought the man had already pegged the needle on the pompous meter.
“He’s here...” Stephanie started.
Ethan jerked toward her, extending his hand as if he were directing center city traffic. “Not another word,” he commanded.
A chorus of chuckles erupted.
“Well, I never thought I’d live to see the day that our little Stephanie would be muzzled. Kudos for turning her into a properly submissive wife.”
Didn’t Bengtsen look pleased with himself after that little sermon?
Ethan pulled his phone from his pocket and swiped the screen. “Excuse me, I had to double-check my calendar to see what year it is because in my century, we don’t patronize women by calling them little, nor do we possess them. She is not your little anything. She is not my little anything. She is my equal partner. And in my humble opinion, any husband who needs to dominate his wife, to force her into submission, isn’t much of a man.”
“Yet, she obeys you. Nice trick.”
How would Wally-ball look with that custom-made hairpiece stuffed in his mouth? If it got him to shut up, it might be worth the assault charge.
“I’m not here as her husband; I’m here as her attorney. She’s being silent, theoretically, because she respects my expertise in this area not because she fears retribution. I would never allow a client to speak in open court, and right now she is my client, and this is open court.”
“Fair enough. In the same vein, the board has agreed to let me speak for them, so this is between you and me.” Bengtsen handed Ethan a piece of paper.
“And this is?” Ethan asked.
Wow. If you looked up shit-eating grin in the dictionary, Bengtsen’s picture would be there. What was he up to?
“That is a power of attorney. I’m sure you’ve heard of those, right? This one is signed by Irene Johnson, granting me the power to vote her stock in today’s meeting. We know Brian will be voting with Stephanie, as he always does, but we finally convinced Irene to vote with us. It’s a done deal.”
Ethan’s brows knit. Had he heard that right? “Whoa, back up. You don’t have an irrevocable proxy?”
Walter shrugged. “Irene has never granted a proxy to anyone. We’ve always done it with a power of attorney, and the paper she signed yesterday at the club is valid until the end of the week.”
Ethan clamped his hands to his head. “So I have this perfectly straight in my mind, please give me a simple yes or no answer. Do you have a signed irrevocable proxy from one Ms. Irene Johnson?”
Bengtsen’s face flushed a vicious red. “I’ve already...”
“Yes or no, please. Do you have a signed irrevocable proxy from one Ms. Irene Johnson?” His voice thundered off the room’s hard surfaces.
Frothy spittle formed at the corner of Bengtsen’s mouth. The white was a nice contrast to the deepening red.
“No!” he bellowed. He pounded the table with both palms as he leaned in to intimidate Ethan.
Yeah, like that was going to work.
“I do not have a signed irrevocable proxy from Irene Johnson. I have her power of attorney, which, if you’d been listening, you would already know.”
Ethan shook his head. “Stephanie, has Wally always been this stupid, or is this a new development?”
Walter rose. “I beg your pa...”
“Sit down, Walter. I believe my husband was right on the mark yesterday when he accused you of not having two brain cells to rub together. Everyone knows, or at least should know, that an irrevocable proxy survives death, but a power of attorney does not. That piece of paper you have will make an excellent bookmark, or you can scribble your grocery list on the back, but it isn’t good for much else.” She turned to Ethan. “And, yes, sweetie, Walter has always been this stupid. And he’s the smartest one on the board.”
Okay, a few more words than he’d wanted her to say, plus she’d stolen his line about the two brain cells, but, all in all, a good salvo.
“See, here...”
“What my beautiful bride is trying to tell you, Wally, is that you lose. Your power of attorney is useless. Without it, you don’t have the votes to terminate her. She stays, but I think it’s time for you and your cronies to hit the road. You’ve proven to be disloyal and untrustworthy, not to mention a hindrance to Ms. Kerrigan’s attempts to drag this company into the twenty-first century to ensure its survival. That, in itself, violates your fiduciary responsibility to this company’s stockholders and merits your removal.”
The look on Bengtsen’s face was priceless. Had Ethan strung together too many multisyllabic words and overloaded the poor man’s brain? He pulled out his most vicious sneer and waited for everything to filter through.
Finally, Walter crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Ethan picked an envelope from the pile and slapped it on the table in front of Bengtsen. “Would it surprise you to know I spent some time in foster care with Big Chuckie Morton?” He pulled out his phone and wiggled it in Bengtsen’s direction. “Got him right here in my contacts. One keystroke, and the three of us could have a nice little conference right here.”
The color drained from Bengtsen’s face.
“What do you think my old pal Chuckie would say if he found out you had turned down—what was that figure, babe?”
Stephanie rifled through her notes. “Two point eight.”
“Ah, yes. Two-point-eight million dollars. That you turned down the chance to free up some assets to satisfy your debt? You could pay him off and have enough left over to clear a few of your other, uh, creditors. Unless you want them to break your other leg.”
Walter slumped into his chair. “This is blackmail.”
Ethan shrugged his shoulders, his palms toward the ceiling. “Blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer leverage. I’m using my leverage. The truth is, Irene Johnson had files on all of you, and she kept them in that beautiful antique credenza behind her desk. We have those files now, so here’s what’s going to happen: your letters of resignation will be on Stephanie’s desk within the hour, and then security will help you pack your personal belongings and escort you off the property. If I see any of your faces here after five p.m., I will have you arrested for trespassing. One of us will be in touch to discuss your severance package. Eventually.”
Walter opened his mouth for one last protest then closed it. He shielded his mouth and nose with his hands. “What the hell is that awful smell?”
Stephanie pulled a clean diaper out of Pete’s diaper bag and laid it on the table. “That, gentlemen, is the 3:30 poop, and to be honest, it smells a whole lot better than the shit I’ve had to put up with from all of you. Now run along like nice little boys and do what you’ve been told before I open this diaper.”
CHAPTER 48
STEPHANIE MADE QUICK work of getting Pete cleaned up and handed him off to Ethan. If she’d known threatening to expose her board of directors to a loaded diaper would have made them m
ove that fast, she would have rented a few babies and stationed them strategically around the executive wing a long time ago.
What a bunch of wimps.
No wonder God, in His great wisdom, had chosen the female of the species to bear the young. If He’d left it up to men, the human race would have died out eons ago.
Except for Ethan. He might be able to pull it off. Sure, he’d bitch about it, but only a little. Besides, what woman didn’t complain about pregnancy and childbirth? After today’s stunning performance, Stephanie was sure Ethan could do almost anything. That he would always step up to the plate, ready to face whatever challenges the world threw at him.
A thousand steamy images flashed through her brain. Ethan was no stranger to stunning performances, that was for sure.
And right now, all she wanted to do was get him home to show her appreciation in the most primal way possible.
A loud click caught her attention. In the space of two breaths, liquid heat engulfed her as his lips attacked the back of her neck. She spooned into him as he pulled her closer, tilting her head to give him more real estate to plunder.
Air escaped from her lungs with a hiss. “Did you lock the door?”
“I did.” He kissed a trail to the place where her neck met her shoulder. “And I made sure the in-session light was still on.” He cupped her breasts. “And Deb has Pete.” He turned her around to face him, their foreheads and noses touching. “Now, how should we spend the hour we gave those old fossils to get their acts together and get out?” He angled in for a soft kiss.
It was like he was reading her mind.
She met his kiss, opening for him, meeting his tongue with thrusts of her own. The adrenaline of beating Walter and his buddies rose and crashed, mingling with her desire, a potent cocktail of emotions swirling inside her. Any second, she expected to sprout wings and take a few laps around the room. She pulled back, her head spinning. “I feel invincible!”
For Pete's Sake: An Enemies to Lovers Marriage of Convenience Standalone Romance Novel (Tobin Tribe Book 1) Page 23