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Right now, I’m that guy on television with all the fancy crap. That guy has power. The other guy, the spindly jackass who’d blush every time a cute girl went past, that guy has nothing. That guywasnothing.
It’s early, and I know she’s sleeping, but the first rule of damage control is to break the story first. That way you do it on your terms.
I call Grace.
“If this isn’t God, I’m hanging up,” she groans.
It’s a good thing my ego’s not that far out of check. “It’s not God, but I’d still like to talk to you,” I say, trying to keep my tone as light as possible.
“Oh hey, Zach,” she says through a yawn. “I’d be glad you called if it weren’t the dead crack of night.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I tell her. “Listen, there’s something I need to talk to you about. It’s not how I wanted to do it, but circumstances have left me no choice.”
“Actually,” she says, “I’ve been doing some thinking.”
“Yeah?” I ask. “About what?”
“I don’t know. I feel like we jumped into this whole thing so fast, and I guess I just got caught up in the thrill of who you are and seeing the world you live in,” she says.
No.
I start again, saying, “Grace, I know things have been moving fast, but—”
“Please,” she says. “I’ve already started, and I’d like to say this before I wake up too much and can’t get through it.”
My heart is pounding. I plead, “Grace, just listen—”
“I don’t think it’s going to work out,” she says. “If I misled you in any way, I’m sorry. I honestly wanted to give us a shot, but I don’t think your status or your lifestyle is a healthy foundation for a relationship.”
“Grace—”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I have to go.”
She hangs up before I can even start the sentence, “We weren’t strangers when we met.” I could have slipped it in there. She cut off nearly everything I said, but she would have heard that.
Maybe I didn’t want to tell her. Regardless, she’s going to find out, and my calls are going straight to voicemail.
It was going to be bad enough if I’d had a chance to tell her everything. Now, when she finds out, I won’t be able to fill in the gaps. If there’s any chance of a relationship in the future, it’s if I can get ahold of her before the news breaks. But there’s nothing I can do.
Naomi’s phone is off, too.
Malcolm sticks his head into the office to inform me that CNBC already has an exclusive locked down with Marly. She’s not just outing me to the board so they can leak it.
I misjudged Marly, and it looks like that mistake is about to cost me everything not telling Grace hasn’t already. There’s nothing left but that final half step off the cliff.
The story writes itself: rags-to-riches billionaire loses everything, the story at eleven.
Cut to commercial.
CHAPTER13
STOCK
GRACE
Zach called almost twelve hours ago, but I haven’t slept. I’m locked in my room, questioning my decision when Naomi tells me there’s someone at the door.
I drag myself out of bed, clothed in the oversized shirt that is my sleeping attire, to find Helen, my former boss’s widow, waiting for me.