“It’s bait. It shows your willingness to invest. You won’t get them without. They’re both very well connected everywhere, especially on Wall Street. Their name means high-quality work, and it’ll secure you the approval. They’ll turn down the million and make you give them more shares. Be prepared for that.”
Yes, they may be good. But they’ll see within one second that the books aren’t okay. And that’ll be an issue.
“What if I found inconsistencies in Jared’s work?”
“Come on, Lil. You know what to do. Blame it on him; it fits the overdose, guilt. I’ll give Ian a call; he knows how to navigate the waters. Await his call.”
“Thanks, Father.”
“Tell your mother I’ll be there for her birthday if you speak to her. She’s not talking to me right now.”
“What did you do?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“One of the girls lied about her age, not that I care. But your mother does, you know how she is, all emotional.”
“Meh,” I say. My mother has a valid point, but I can't criticize my father, and he's right that she's too emotional. “I don’t think I’ll talk to her anytime soon. I have better things to do than listen to the fourth season of Banging Phil the Tennis Trainer.”
My father's rich laughter rolls through the speaker.
“That’s my girl,” he says. “See you then, I’ll bring some of the champagne you liked.”
“Look forward to it,” I say with a sardonic tone. Both of us deeply despise my mother’s birthday parties, but attending is inevitable—failure means consequences. My father has done everything possible to avoid his attendance by bringing his sugar babes—that's how my mother started her affair with the tennis trainer, the house decorator, and the twenty-three-year-old cook. Consequently, my father and I drink. A lot.
We hang up, and I stare out of the window for a moment. Weare almost at the office. I feel strange setting foot in there after everything that had happened. My head twitches slightly when we come to a halt in front of the office.
“Everything’s checked,” says Doug, “We have eyes everywhere.”
He gets outside and maneuvers me into the company; my eyes linger on the shattered glass where the bullet hit.
“They’re replacing it tomorrow,” says Doug. “Let’s get upstairs.”
I can see he is on full alert, although he never loses his head. He’s been working for me for such a long time now that I can recognize the most minor differences.
I reach our floor as my phone rings. I step into a meeting room and answer; it’s Ian Wincester. My father has briefed him, so Ian gets straight to the point.
We discuss the IPO, the halt, and Jared. I note that there might have been some inconsistencies. I appreciate Ian's efficiency, which stands in contrast to Jared's approach. It's a pleasure to converse with someone as precise as I am. Therefore, I extend him the offer, following my father's advice.
I open my laptop to take notes on the conversation, but I get distracted.
Ella answered my email.
My heart races with anticipation as I click on it.
Tempting, but no.
I read her three words, and my mind shuts down. A smirk appears on my face. I love a brat, and my inner huntress is triggered. I will get you. Now more than ever.
“Lilian, are you there?” I hear Ian say through my phone. I have completely forgotten I was talking to him.
“Sorry, my connection was unstable. Can you repeat what you said? I only got some words,” I say to maneuver myself out of the situation. I have to fucking focus.
“Certainly. I’d suggest we reduce the cash component and reallocate it into equity—preferably options, with standard vesting and IPO acceleration.”
I smirk knowingly; he knows what he was doing.
We agree on terms after several rounds of back-and-forth, but Iam certain it’ll be worth it. If I don’t get it done by now, it might become a no-way-back issue, so I agree to the terms.
Ian will arrive on Monday, and I’ll organize everything in the meantime: government clearing, contracts, and compliance.
