Page 73 of Levi

“No. Not that one. I’m talking about contracts your ex-employees signed.”

“Oh. Daddy was a stickler. Everyone had to sign a ten-year non-compete contract and a non-disclosure agreement. He even had Hillary—and her girls—sign one when they were first dating.”

“Where are those contracts now?”

“Daddy’s lawyers have the originals and scanned copies. I also have copies on my laptop, stored on a cloud, and copies in a safety deposit box at the bank.”

Smart.

I consider her for a long while.

“Is something wrong, Levi?” she asks.

“On the contrary. Your father knew exactly what he had in his hands.”

She flashes me a beaming smile. “I guess you’re right. I never thought about it that way. I always teased him and told him he was paranoid.”

“You’re only paranoid when you know you’re holding gold in the palm of your hand,” I stress.

“Hillary always thought the company was never going to amount to much.”

“We don’t care what Hillary thinks. You’re about to give her twat ass the boot.”

“Amen to that!” she exclaims, lifting her hands above her head, and doing this little sexy little dance on her chair.

I much prefer this version of Jules than the frightened woman I bumped into when I got off the elevators yesterday.

“We need your dad’s lawyers to resend a letter to your former employees––including the Twatts––to remind them they signed a legal document,” I state.

She frowns. “Not that I can afford their fees, but why do we need them to do that?”

“Greed,” I deadpan. “As for the fees, I’ll cover them,” I tell her.

“Thank you.”

“It’s clear from the way the last three employees dropped you like a hot potato, they don’t think you have a hope in hell of turning a profit. When you start turning out millions in monthly sales, they’ll be kicking themselves for abandoning you. We want to make sure they don’t get any twisted ideas in their head and start running their mouth to a competitor,” I explain.

“I didn’t even think of that,” she nods. “What do I tell Hillary?” Jules asks. “She knows I don’t have two pennies to rub together, she’s going to be suspicious as to where I found this avalanche of money to pay for lawyers.”

“What did I say earlier about Hillary?”

Recognition dawns and she flashes me a wicked smile.

“We don’t care what Hillary thinks,” she affirms. “I’m about to give her twat ass the boot!”

“High five!”

She claps my hand, laughter spilling from her lips.

“Can you show me your cost of production numbers?” I keep things on track.

“Yes. I have all that on a spreadsheet.”

“Good. We need to start from the ground up,” I tell her. “Pull the data out and anything else you have. In the meantime, I’ll step out to make a phone call. I think I have the perfect business partners—”

“As in, more than just one?”

“Yes,” I confirm. “I think these two guys will be all over the CycleThonix and the rest of the Thonix family. I’ll get my lawyers and accountants to go over the numbers, but since you were transparent, I already know where you’re starting from.”