Thirty-eight

LILAH

The paper in front of me isn’t making any sense.

Sitting in my office chair, I push away from my desk. Once on my feet, I begin pacing the length of my office as I try to absorb the words in front of me.

Rio Venture Corp’s stocks has dropped by seventy percent in the last week.

The same company I had just gotten Andrew to invest more than four-hundred grand into.

What the fuck is going on?

Right before he signed, things were looking up. All the graphs and charts Edward gave me showed nothing but an upward. What had changed in two weeks?

His initial investment is now worth only one-hundred-and-twenty grand and that may be even lower by the time the market closes at the end of the day.

I pluck my desk phone from the receiver before I have a chance to second-guess my decisions.

Edward is going to give me some answers even if it’s the last thing he wants to do today.

My heart pounds in my ears as I wait for him to pick up. It gets to the fourth ring before he answers.

“Edward Knight speaking,” he drones into the receiver, sounding far too relaxed all things considered.

“This is Lilah,” I say hastily. “Look, I need to meet with you in person as soon as possible,” I tell him cutting to the chase.

“Ms. Tucker, I’m busy for the rest of the day. It’ll have to wait until later in the week,” he says, formally.

My temper flares at his disregard for the situation. He has to know why I’m calling.

“I don’t have the luxury of time on my side,” I vent. “I’m sure my client will want to know before then why his investment of four-hundred-thousand dollars is worth less than thirty percent of that right now.”

Sighing dramatically, Edward excuses himself from someone in his background and finds a quiet corner to finish our conversation.

“Listen, Ms. Tucker. I appreciate your enthusiasm on this but I would advise you to calm down. It’s not as bad as you think. There’s no need for you to go running to Mr. Knight and getting him riled up for nothing,” he commands.

“How can you say that? His money is gone!” I erupt, getting angry all over again.

Again, Edward sighs heavily on the other end.

“This is not abnormal for new companies starting out. One week their stock is worth hundreds per share and the next it may plummet to pennies on the dollar. This company is young and is bound to make mistakes, but I wouldn’t advise investors to pull out now.”

I listen silently, counting to ten as he babbles on and on about why I shouldn’t act in a rash manner.

“I have no doubt that this will correct itself on its own. Knight signed up to be a long-term investor, and I know you informed him of the risks up front. Try not to stress it.”

Try not to stress it.

Is he serious right now?

My boyfriend.

His brother.

Scratch that, my client just almost lost three-hundred grand on a shitty investment thanks to my misguided advice and his only words of encouragement are “try not to stress over it.”

“Besides,” he adds as an afterthought. “I’m sure you’ll think of something to keep Mr. Knight distracted while this all works itself out.”

The sneer behind his words is audible. My fist automatically clenches in response.

He continues, fortunately before I say something that I know I will regret. “You’re a very smart woman, Ms. Tucker. I have no doubt that you’ll think of something.” However, what he has just said makes me only angrier.

Here he goes with this bullshit again. Giving me backhanded compliments because he thinks I’m sleeping with his brother to get what I want.

He’s so repulsive.

But I keep that thought to myself, of course.

Placating him false pleasantries, I hurry him off the line and drop the phone back into its cradle.

“I’m truly fucked,” I say even though no one is here to soothe me.

This hole I fell in just gets deeper by the day. My sanity will never be the same after this summer. I’m sure of it.

I have to find a way to dig myself out of it before it’s too late.

***

“I was definitely surprised to receive your call,” Mason says from across the table.

We’re sitting in a corner of a small café on my lunch break.

Once I’d been able to think clearly after this morning’s fiasco, he was the first person I called.

I told him I needed some advice and that it would be better if we met in person. He’d agreed easily enough and told me to pick the place and text him the address.

And here we are.

Andrew usually meets me for lunch when he’s free and I know my absence today is bound to raise some red flags. But I need to get to the bottom of this.

“Thanks for meeting me,” I say, stirring the iced coffee in front of me.

“Is everything okay?” Mason frowns, watching my face with focused intent.

“I’m not sure,” I share. “I told you about my new job with Castle.”

Nodding, he waits for me to go on.

“I have a few questions about the investment aspect of my gig.”

I actually can’t believe it never occurred to me to pick Mason’s brain before. He works on Wall Street and would know the most about this shitty business.

Mason sips his coffee. “What’s up?”

“Tell me what you know about the company Rio Venture Corp.”

My stomach drops when his eyebrow dips in confusion.

“I can’t say I’m familiar with it.”

“What? So you mean it doesn’t exist?”

Mason throws his hand up at my rash reasoning.

“Wait. Hold on, that’s not what I said. I’m pretty on top of the market but there’s a chance that one slipped under my radar. I’ve been out of the loop for the last couple of weeks since I’m on vacation. Just because I’ve never heard of it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” he says.

“But how likely is it that a company just spurts up overnight and has stock worth more than five hundred a share without you hearing a thing about it? I’m sure that would’ve broken through your vacation bubble.”

Mason gnaws at his lip contemplatively. “What do you think is going on?”

“I think my boss is misleading me with deceptive data and therefore misleading clients to invest in something that may not be viable.”

That gets Mason’s attention.

“What would he get from that? If the company isn’t viable like you suspect, what would he get by telling investors to put their money into it only for it to tank?”

Good question.

I have no idea what Edward could be getting out of this but I do know something isn’t adding up.

“I’m not sure,” I admit truthfully. “I just have a feeling.”

Mason hums noncommittally across the table as he traces the moisture on his cup.

“I need a favor,” I tell him.

“Shoot,” he says easily, not even hesitating to take on something during his vacation.

“Could you pass this info along to one of your colleagues in New York and see what they find on it?” I ask slipping him a sheet of paper with all the information on it.

“Sure,” Mason agrees, tucking the paper into his pocket. “I’ll keep my eye on it for a week or two and tell you what I think.”

Heaving a sigh of relief, I relax for the first time all day.

“You’re a lifesaver, Mason.”