“So we have Tess versus Greg Svensson,” Belle said. “Greg, why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself?”
Giving me another glare, Greg stood up and turned to the audience. “Along with running a successful investment firm, I am also a proud resident of this tower and will be happy to serve you as president. I have heard a number of requests over the last few weeks that I will be happy to accommodate.”
“Boo!” several of the seniors yelled. “We want Tess! We want Tess!”
“And where is Tess?” Greg asked, spreading his arms wide.
“She’s busy,” I lied.
Greg turned to Belle. “You know the bylaws. The people running for a position have to be here in person for the vote.”
“Yes,” Belle said, “unless there is an approved motion to have a recess and resume within a week to hold the vote.”
“I motion,” Vera called.
“Second,” I said.
“Wonderful. We will send out a date for the next meeting,” Belle said. She banged her gavel.
Greg prowled up to the front of the room and grabbed my arm. “I did not put together the most brilliant plan in history to be blocked by you,” he snarled. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but you better get it together at the next meeting. I will execute my plan.” He shook me once more.
“I had to,” I said, hoping to make my brother understand. “Belle was going to get back the painting that I gave away.”
But Greg didn’t look all that furious. “You’re such an idiot,” Greg sneered. “You gave away that painting because you refused to go along with my watertight plan. Now you’re off on another wild goose chase to correct the first bad decision.”
“I know you’re mad,” I began.
Greg laughed. “I’m not mad. You know why? Because Tess isn’t going to be president. Tess isn’t a resident here.”
“She lives with me.”
“She hates you.”
“No, she doesn’t. She loves me, and I screwed up,” I argued.
Greg gave a mocking laugh. “She doesn’t love you. You’re at the top of her hate list. See?”
Greg pulled out his phone, grabbed my hand, and slapped the device into it.
There on the screen was a gossip page with a new top story that was an anonymous article. The editor’s note said it had been written by the assistant of a billionaire who ran a major company. And by the details listed in the article, it was clear the article was about me. It listed everything—how I was a terrible boss, how I terrorized people, how I had two sisters that were brats that I neglected, and how I had slept with my assistant then fired her.
Finally, at the bottom of the article was a hate list written on a napkin in sparkly glitter ink in Tess’s handwriting.
Fuck. She really did write this.
My sisters pulled on my pants leg.
“Beck,” they cried, “did you see this?” They had the article up on their phones.
“I thought Tess liked us.” Annie’s voice was small.
“This is a harsh lesson to learn, girls,” Greg said, though his words seemed to be addressed more to me than them. “You can only rely on your family, and family has to come first because everyone else will betray you.”
He gave me a steely-eyed glare. “You better handle this, Beck.”
62
Tess
