He reread the note, then saw the letters begin to swim before his eyes. He’d never felt anything like it before. If she reached over and clutched his knee hard enough to make him wince, well, he supposed that was better than a sharp slap. He reached for water, managed to get some of it down without pouring most of it on himself, then set the bottle aside.
He looked at Emma and made a production of smiling at her as if they’d just shared a private joke, then he turned back to studying his grandfather’s minions sitting around the table. He looked at his grandfather for a bit, watching his mouth move but hearing nothing, then he glanced at his cousin Gerald.
Gerald was staring at him with soulless eyes.
“Grandfather,” Gerald said suddenly, “perhaps a bit of a break. I want to talk to Nathaniel for a minute or two. Help him see sense.”
Dexter MacLeod drew himself up. “An excellent idea. Mirna, where’s my coffee? Straight up, black. None of that dessert garbage kids drink these days.”
“Right away, Mr. MacLeod.”
Nathaniel looked at his cousin. “I’ll pass, thanks.”
“It wasn’t a request.”
Nathaniel supposed it was a good thing he didn’t have a sword handy, because he would have drawn it and used it on the fool sitting across from him. He looked at Peter. “I’m finished here,” he said. “Let’s wrap this up with what you brought.”
“But billable hours,” Peter protested.
Nathaniel mouthed a suggestion about what Peter DiSalvio could do with his billable hours. Peter and his brother Tony had made enough over the years never to need to work another day in their lives, something Nathaniel had contributed to handsomely. They would both survive.
Peter sighed the sigh of a martyr who was going to have to work an extra hour to manage the mortgage payment on hissecond home in the Hamptons, then slid a folder across the table not to Dexter, who was looking highly displeased that things were continuing on without him, but to Gerald. Nathaniel smiled at his cousin.
“Don’t know that you’ve seen this lately.”
“What is that?” Dexter demanded.
“Just a second, Grandfather,” Gerald said soothingly. “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure.”
“I’m sure,” Nathaniel agreed. He looked at his grandfather and wondered how it was possible they were related. “I wouldn’t have a clue what it is, not having your cracking legal team to tell me what I’m reading, of course.”
“I gave you a job,” Dexter spat.
“And I worked hundred-hour weeks for you for years,” Nathaniel said sharply. “I made you more profit and took away far less than the cadre of leeches sitting on your side of the table has.”
“You meanlawyers,” Emma murmured.
He looked at her. “Why, thank you, Miss Baxter. Indeed, I did. I must have misspoken.”
She looked at his grandfather’s henchmen, then back at him. “I can let that stand in the notes, if you like.”
“You decide,” he said. He turned back to watch as Gerald read what he’d been given.
His cousin rolled his eyes. “It’s Archie’s will. Nothing we haven’t seen before.”
“You’ve seen it, but perhaps you haven’t read it carefully enough,” Nathaniel said pointedly. “There is specific language in there that states that the trust doesnotrevert to Grandfather upon my father’s death.” He pushed back from the conference table and looked at his grandfather. “I have humored you, Grandfather, because I knew it was your grief over your son that drove you, but I am finished. I have made the trust substantial sums of money, so trying to oust me because of mismanagement will go nowhere. I will tell you here and now that if you come after me again, I will crush you.”
“He threatened me,” Dexter said, looking around for potential witnesses. “Someone write that down!”
Nathaniel held out Emma’s chair for her, then put his hand on Peter’s shoulder briefly before he walked around the table. He leaned in close to his grandfather.
“I know where all the bodies are buried,” he murmured, “and if you think I won’t go to the press, think again.”
Poindexter MacLeod felt his way down into a chair and looked up at him. “You wouldn’t,” he blustered. “I mean, there are no bodies—”
“Metaphorically speaking,” Nathaniel said smoothly.
He straightened and left his grandfather to wheeze, his cousin to swear, and his brother to watch him with a half smile on his face. Then again, that one there knew which side his bread was buttered on, as the saying went. Nathaniel looked at his brother.
