“On a scale of one to believable, it scores a negative three thousand,” Archer added.
“Absolutely in the Mariana Trench of believability,” I agreed.“Mystery Gramps is gonna hand over two billion dollars if we marry for love?This sounds like a conservative super-PAC scam.”
“And coming from a family that never acknowledged us,” Archer said, his voice rising.“From a grandfather we literally didn’t know existed until right fucking now.”
The outrage was simmering inside me too.
“What I don’t fucking get is, if this is even real, why the fuck we matter after thirty-five years ofnotmattering.”I tried to keep my voice steady.I didn’t like thinking about this shit.It was only the most painful rift inside my heart.
“It’s like salt in a wound,” Archer added.“It’s a nice fucking sum, but Mom could have used that when she was going back-to-school shopping for us through the years, huh?We don’t need it now.We needed it then.Fuck, we needed our…family.Whoever they are.”
“Clearly rich,” I muttered.“Maybe the only thing we’ll ever know about them.”
Silence simmered between us, but inside my head it was a cacophony of activity.
“Fuck their money,” I finally said.
“Yeah, fuck them.And their money,” Archer added.
“We’ve never needed anything from that family before.”I started pacing the length of the conference room.“We built Nightly Developments from nothing, and look where we got.We don’t need shit from them.”
“Right on,” Archer said.“We won’t be bought by this random grandpa who ignored our existence for thirty-five years.Besides, this reeks of control.We need to get married because he said ‘jump’ before he died?Get out of here.”
“Ludicrous.”
“Stupid.”
“Absolutely asinine,” I added.
We both drew deep breaths.Personally, I felt cleansed.I looked around as though seeing the room for the first time.When Archer met my gaze, I saw doubt swirling there.
“Just so we’re clear, we’re willing to walk away from four billion dollars, right?”he asked.
I tipped my head.“I’m willing to walk away from four billion dollars with strings attached.”
“And if the marriage requirement wasn’t there?”
“I’d take his money and run.”
Archer nodded.“Okay, cool.We’re on the same page.”He clapped my back.“I’m definitely not getting married anytime soon, and neither are you.”
“Nope.Not a chance.”I straightened my back, looking over at my brother.“Now can we get back to our reception?We have some investors to schmooze.”
As we headed back to the reception, I knew in my gut we’d made the right decision.Four billion was tempting, but freedom was priceless.
So why did everything inside me feel so uneasy?
CHAPTER THREE
NASH
Three days after our office opening, I was back to the grind—which meant sitting in our conference room at eight a.m., nursing a cold brew and trying to make sense of the stack of documents our research team had compiled overnight.
"This is bad," Archer said, sliding another folder across the table to me."Really fucking bad."
I opened the folder to find bankruptcy filings, financial statements, and aerial photos of a massive industrial complex in Queens; Meridian Manufacturing had employed over six hundred people in the area and had been the economic backbone of its neighborhood for forty years.
"When did they file?"I asked, scanning the documents.
