“Whoa, dude,” Duke mumbled under his breath.
“James?” Betzy hissed, alarm tightening her voice.
From the corner of his eye, James saw Zander shoot to his feet. But James wanted his reply.
“I…um.” The kid managed a shrug and sniffed. “You mean the business? I guess because I didn’t know how to run a company.”
Didn’t know how to run the company, or didn’t know how to break his habit?“Then you find someone whodoes,” James snapped. “You gethelp!”
Peter gave a pleading look to Milo, his forehead beading with sweat, then set his gaze back on James and shrugged once again. “That’s why I’m here.”
The security crew hurried onto the scene, two men dressed in black standing at either side of the action. It took James a moment to realizehewas the center of that action.
He looked down at his grip, the knotted sweater bulging from each tightened fist, as the horrible realization sank in—he’d just freaked out on a guest on live TV.
Reality struck him like a cold blow to the back. One that might rob his next breath. Gulping, James forced his fingers to uncurl and release the grip. “You’re too late,” he mumbled. “Your company’s already dead.”
Another round of gasps sounded throughout the crowd in staggered bursts.
“So what you’re saying, James,” Milo said, attempting to lighten things with a chuckle, “is thatyou’renot interested in this particular—”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” James assured with the shake of his head. How many times had Winston rejected their pleas to accept treatment? Or accepted, only to walk out after hitting that three-days-clean mark? How many times had James, Zander, Betzy, and Duke loaned him money he’d only thrown away?
“I’m speaking for me andallof the Bentons when I say thatnoneof us are interested in this corpse of a company. You’re wasting your time andours.” He shot a look to Milo next. “Get him out of here.Now.”
Chatter broke out over the crowd anew.
“Thank you for coming to the Lion’s Den, Mr. Shultz,” Milo said, his even tone clashing with the shock on his face. “If you wouldn’t mind following my friend Bruce backstage, he’ll see to it that you’re taken care of.”
James glanced over to Betzy, who pressed a hand against her chest. She shook her head, looking at James the way she must’ve looked at Winston when he was out of control. Duke looked more amused than anything, a wry smile tugging at one side of his lips while he looked over the crowd.
Hesitantly, James let his gaze dart to Zander, who was lowering himself back into his seat. His older brother shot him a burning glare of reprove.
James exhaled a jagged breath as a pounding pulsed in his head. Zander planned to lecture him after the show for sure, but James wouldn’t stick around to hear it. He smoothed a sweaty palm over his suit coat, spun to give Milo and the audience a nod, and set his eyes on the break in the backstage curtain.
This wasn’t going to look good, especially after the scandal of Winston’s overdose. As if the private plane crash hadn’t been enough five years back—the one that took both Dad and Grandpa Benton to an early grave.
The family was hoping to dispel rumors that they were falling apart. But how could they do that when Jameswasfalling apart? And he was sick of pretending he’d somehow healed over the last year. He hadn’t. Beneath the sliver thin scab of distraction, the wound had dug itself deeper with each passing week. No multi-million dollar deal or fancy dinner party would help. Somehow, James needed to move on from the loss before it ate him alive.
With that thought, James strode toward the break in the curtain—his escape from the shattered façade—and stormed out of the studio and through the back exit where his car waited.
His driver, Leonard, hurried out of the car, a stunned expression on his face.
“Done so soon, Mr. Benton?”
James put a hand up to stay him. “I can get the door. Head to the penthouse, please.”
“James, wait!” Duke’s voice came from behind.
James clenched his fists. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he growled, spinning back to face him.
“Then don’t,” Duke said. “I just…wanted to see where you’re going.”
“Away.” The adrenaline coursing through him felt clogged suddenly. He shifted his weight from one foot to the next; if he didn’t keep moving he’d explode.
His brother’s inquiring gaze took in more than James wanted to give him.
Duke knew.
