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This has to end. One way or another, something has to give. Because I’m starting to realize that no business deal, no obligation, no anything is worth the cost of walking away from someone who makes me feel like I’m more than just a name on a contract or a face on a billboard.
I just hope I figure out how to fix this before it’s too late.
The Ocean Club’s Sunday brunch is exactly as pretentious as I remember. The Davidsons insist on the terrace table overlooking the water so Marcus Davidson can hold court like the king he thinks he is.
“Luke, my boy.” Marcus rises as we approach, his smile sharper than the crease in his tailored suit. “I trust your performance wentwell?”
“Very well, sir.” I take my seat, noting how he’s positioned himself to face the rest of the terrace. Everything is calculated with Marcus, down to sight lines and power positions.
A server appears with mimosas, and Marcus raises his in a toast. “To success, in all its forms.”
There’s something in the way he says it that makes the hair on my neck stand up. I’ve seen that look before—it’s the look he gets right before acquiring another company.
“Speaking of success,” he continues, setting down his glass, “how is your father?”
My jaw tightens. “He’s focused on his business. Still rebuilding after the fire last year.”
“Ah yes, the fire.” Marcus’s sympathetic expression doesn’t reach his eyes. “Terrible timing, with that balloon payment coming due.”
Crystal shifts beside me, suddenly very interested in her menu. She knows. Of course, she knows.
“I’m sure he’ll work something out. Maybe with the banks, he has a couple of bankers on the board,” I say carefully.
Marcus cuts into his Eggs Benedict, the yolk bleeding across his plate like a warning. “Banks can be so... inflexible. Especially with companies that have suffered recent setbacks.”
And there it is.
“I’m sure my father appreciates your concern,” I manage.
“More than concern, Luke.” He dabs his mouth with a napkin. “I’m not the only person concerned about your father’s… current state of mind.” He glances over at me casually. “I’m willing to possibly renegotiate our contract. Give your father some time to come up with the payment. Allow him to keep Sterling Motors in business where it belongs.”
My stomach churns as his words don’t ring true, probably because I can read the ruthless greed in his eyes.
“Of course,” he continues, “family looking after family would be the ideal situation. Crystal tells me you two have been getting serious.”
Crystal beams perfectly on cue. I force myself not to pull away when she leans into me.
“We’re taking things slow,” I say.
“Time is a luxury some can’t afford.” Marcus’s smile doesn’t waver, but his eyes are cold. “Your father’s payment is duein what, a couple of months? It would be such a shame if Sterling Motors had to be broken up and sold off piece by piece. All those employees—all that history...”
The threat hangs in the air. I think of my father, who used to work sixteen-hour days, who is now trying to save the company, and how he’d object if he knew I was letting myself be manipulated like this.
My hands clench into fists. “My father is still in charge—“
“Yes, for now.” Marcus cuts in smoothly. “Of course, it would only require a majority vote by the board to change that.”
His meaning is clear. Damn him. But my father insists that the board is loyal to him—
“More mimosa?” Crystal chirps, oblivious to—or deliberately ignoring—the tension.
“No.” I stand abruptly. “I should go. I need to get to the sound studio.”
“But Luke—“ Crystal starts, and I cut her off.
“Stay Crystal. I’ll find my own way home.” I turn to leave, ready for this brunch to be over.
“Luke.” Marcus’s voice stops me. “Carefully consider what’s at stake here. Some opportunities only come around once.”