Page 167 of Twisted Knight

“The ink is still drying last I checked, but please, by all means, come on in,” I say, glancing up to Rhett and his impatient fucking stare as he stands in my doorway with anxiety radiating off him.

Clank. Click. Clank.

This is for you, Mase. All for you.

He puts the lighter in his pocket, stance wide, shoulders squared like he’s ready for a brawl. “I will. I don’t need to ask permission to come into my own goddamn office.”

Testy. Testy.

I make a show of glancing around the space. I’ve changed it up a bit since I moved in. The golf memorabilia is gone. So are the plaques praising Rhett as an esteemed member of the Westmore Country Club world. Less is more for me. And I don’t have to stare at my accomplishments to know my worth as a man. Apparently, he does.

I offer a pitying smile. “Last I checked the office was mine, but I’ll let your mistake slide since it seems you’re upset.” I fold my hands methodically on the desk blotter in front of me. “Now, how is it that I can help you?”

“The funds were supposed to be in our account by the close of business. It’s past then so I don’t want to hear shit about missing the bank’s wire deadline or something like that. You knew the deal was closing today. The money’s not here. It’s been less than two hours and you’re already defaulting on your promises.”

My chuckle is a low, unforgiving rumble as Chad comes into view behind him. Don’t have the balls to confront me yourself, Rhett?

“Surprise. Surprise. Chad’s here,” I say. “What’s that saying? Two’s a crowd, three’s a party?”

“Rhett’s right. Only a very small portion of the funds is there,” Chad says.

“Yeah, like you forgot an extra zero,” Rhett spits out.

“First off, I haven’t defaulted on shit.” My smile is a sarcastic fuck you. My hatred for these two runs deep. “Second, the funds are there. I double-checked myself. I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.”

“The purchase price was one hundred million,” Rhett says.

“I’m aware. I, too, signed the docs,” I say.

“Only ten million is in the account,” Chad says.

“Yes. I’m aware of that too.” I give a measured nod and bite back my smile that wants to gloat. This is what happens when you’re so eager robbing Peter to pay Paul that you don’t read the fine print.

You had the chance to fix this, Rhett, but you were so goddamn eager, you dismissed your legal counsel’s advice during our meeting last week.

“I don’t fucking care, Kyle. So long as the structure is the same, we’re good to sign,” Rhett says, pulling the papers from his lawyer’s hands and shaking his head.

“But—”

“But what?” Rhett snaps. “Is the ownership divvied up how we agreed? Are the board members the same? Do I still have four percent more than Rowan in total company holdings? Yada yada yada.”

“They are,” Kyle says.

“Is the purchase price the goddamn same?” Rhett barks.

Kyle nods and meets my eyes across the table. “I still think it’s best—”

“I don’t need to fucking think,” Rhett says, desperation in his voice and sweat on his brow.

“As your attorney, I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t advise you that it’s best if you reread all of the—”

“And as your client who’s paying you a hefty sum, I demand to get the goddamn deal closed and the money transferred. That’s what I want. I need…” He shakes his head as if it’ll erase that last sentence.

But I heard it.

I know how it was supposed to end.

You need … the fucking money, don’t you, Rhett? That land you thought you sold, the land you bought thinking it was a good deal but got snowed on because of your greed. The land you’re trying to snow some other unsuspecting sap into buying—that deal? It fell through this week and now you’re desperate.