I made a mistake last night, but Dahlia will make me pay for fucking up her night. That’s the loop of monologue stuck in my head as I walk into our private executive conference room at the office. But I can’t do anything about it right now.

Duty calls, so here I am.

Jace isn’t here yet. Our closest friends and hedge fund partners give me a nod from their spots around the boardroom table. Dylan Worthington, Jace’s best friend and our Chief Investment Officer, has his laptop out. He’s sporting a scowl as he stares at the screen. Dylan has a Master’s degree in Economic and Financial Modeling from MIT, and I’m sure if I check the laptop, I’ll find some investment regression analysis he’s working on. My two best friends since high school, Caleb Mitchell and Foster Evans, both Investor Relations VPs, are scrolling through their smartphones, checking emails.

“When’s the golden boy planning to grace us with his presence?” Caleb asks, looking up from his phone just long enough to make eye contact.

“Any minute now.”

Caleb shakes his head with his usual apathy, and places his phone on the tabletop. He has never liked the direction we’re taking to acquire Mont Blanc, and has no problem stating his objection every chance he gets. “Does he know he has us waiting? I’ve got to get across town to meet one of the Carrington’s. If we sign this guy, it gives us close to three hundred million in liquid assets to work with. Cash is fucking king in this business, not all the groveling we’ve been doing to pay through the nose for a shit competitor.”

“Why don’t you tell us how you really feel?” Dylan says wryly without looking up from his laptop screen.

I’m sitting closest to the boardroom door, so I pick up the chime of an elevator opening down the hall before the others notice.

“Chillax. He’ll be here.”

Jace comes into view. He’s carrying a sleek black briefcase as he walks along the wide hallway that runs perpendicular to the full length of this wing of executive offices and a couple of conference rooms.

“Gentlemen,” he greets us as he enters, pushing the door closed behind him.

Turning my swivel chair, I give him a knowing glance as he takes his seat at the head of the table.

Dylan looks up from his spot on the other side of Jace. “What’s the word?”

“Not great.”

Caleb looks over at him. “What happened?”

“This deal is falling apart, gentlemen. One fucking piece at a time. It’s brutal, but I’m almost grateful we’re facing it now instead of cleaning up a massive mess if we let this deal close as is.”

“We’re used to Dylan overreacting,” Caleb says, running a hand over his tousled blond hair, made that much messier by the five-hundred-dollar haircut he continually boasts about. “Are you going to have a fucking meltdown right there? This is why I pushed back my meeting with one of the Carrington’s?”

“Calm the fuck down and let him talk,” Dylan mutters.

“I’m fucking calm,” Caleb shouts. “I just got work to do that can’t be done by sitting behind a computer, monitoring goddamned risk analysis models.”

“Can you girls quit your bickering and let Jace give his update?” I bark.

They lean back in their chairs, turning to Jace.

“All right. The only upside of this whole situation our forensics guy found out is that Gerard hasn’t had a chance to get to our CEO to convince him that we’re overreacting.”

“What did he find out?” Foster asks. “Caleb and I have been out of the loop, as we’re not at the bargaining table.”

“Exactly, because we’re busy filling the pot with new business, instead of emptying it with expensive as fuck acquisitions.”

Jace rests his elbows on the table and lowers his head to his hands, rubbing his temples. He looks exhausted, and waits a beat to finally speak.

“Well, I’m sorry we’re getting new information at this late stage in the game…but it speaks to the scope of this massive buy.” He slides a thick file across the table to Dylan. “I only have one copy, so take a look at the three tabbed pages, then pass it on.”

Dylan squints at the pages, and as he’s halfway down, his eyes start to bulge. “How did this not get flagged during our discovery?” he asks, quickly scanning the other two pages before passing it on to Foster.

Both Foster’s and Caleb’s reactions are identical. Disbelief, then slight panic.

“We’re fucked,” Foster says.

Now I can’t wait to pore over the page, but as I get my chance to read it, I wish I hadn’t.

“Walk us all through these details,” I tell Jace.

“What’s there to walk through?” Caleb protests. “Gerald fucking Buchannan tried to sell us a shit show at top dollar. And what’s worse is Pantheon and Triple Shield may just be the tip of the fucking iceberg.” He looks at his rose gold Patek Philippe watch. “I don’t have time for this shit. Let’s just figure out what we can do about it.”

“I say we walk away,” Dylan announces, dragging the file across the table to take another look. “Or we ask them to divest the shell company that owns these two sinking ships.”

“Not gonna happen.”

We all stare at each other in silence for some long moments.

“I’ve got a meeting,” Caleb repeats.

“We all have shit to do,” Dylan barks.

Jace stairs up at the ceiling as Dylan packs up his laptop and leaves the boardroom. Caleb and Foster aren’t far behind.

“We’ve got to get this in front of Dad,” Jace groans.

I get to my feet. “No. Let’s go to Gerald.”

“That’ll only give him time to cover his ass with Dad.”

I pull out my phone and find Gerald’s name in my contact list. “We have to try. Can you spare an hour right now?”

“No, but I’ll make time.”

I press the call button and turn on the speaker. And after a few rings, Gerald answers.

“Hello?”

“Gerald. Jackson here. I have you on speakerphone with Jace. We need to stop by your office in say, twenty minutes?”

“I’m on route to another meeting. Can this wait?”

“No. It can’t. Can you swing by our office?”

“It depends on how much time you need. What’s this about?” he probes.

“Make it happen. We’ll explain everything when you get here.”

“All right,” he says with hesitation. “Give it about fifteen minutes for me to get through this ridiculous uptown congestion.”

Jace gives me a hard look as I end the call. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“It’s the only way.” Checking the time on my phone, I start walking to the door. “I’ve got to take care of a few things. I’ll tell Gemma to let the receptionist have Gerald meet us in my office.”

He follows me out and turns in the opposite direction from my office. “Have her call me when Gerald arrives.”

* * *

“This is why you called me here?” Gerald asks when Jace hands over the folder with all the dirt on Pantheon and Triple Shield.

Jace shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you trying to tell us that you meant for us to find out about these disasters waiting to happen? You call this due diligence?”

“I wasn’t hiding it.”

“Dad trusts you, Gerald,” I remind the old prick. “This is the kind of thing he’d expect you to bring up at the onset of a negotiation. Neither of our firms’ lawyers raised this as a risk, and this shit is significant.”

“It’s a non-issue,” he says dismissively. “It affects nothing. You should be more interested in the conversation I had with the Mont Blanc CEO.”

Jace’s phone rings then. He surprises us both by excusing himself to take the call.

“He called you?” I ask, briefly glancing at Jace as he heads down the hall with a dire expression on his face.

“Sure, he called me. Or I phoned him. What’s the difference at this point of closing the deal? What matters is they’re starting to doubt whether this deal will go through at all. I already warned you a week ago that we can’t leave them hanging too long.”

“Why? What happened? Are they shopping our offer around?”

“What if they were?”

“At this point? Maybe they should have someone else buy them out. They came to us for a reason, and you need to remind them that they need us, not the other way around. What self-respecting Wall Street hedge fund company would look at them twice if the Pantheon and Triple Shield details were on page one of their prospectus?”

“You and your brother are overreacting, your father would never waste my time with this minutia…” he studies my reaction as he speaks, then nods with a new understanding. “Does Joseph know you contacted me about this?” I take a split second too long to start crafting my verbal response. “So he doesn’t know. Take my advice, kid. Don’t waste my time.” Gerald turns and starts walking out of my office. “If you talk to me or anyone in Mont Blanc about this file again, I’ll personally find them another buyer, and your old man will be the first to know that you and Jace fucked up the best deal in town.”

Jace and Gerald cross paths outside my office, but Gerald doesn’t stop to speak to him.

“What did he say?” Jace asks as he walks in.

“He wants us to suck it up.”

“Fuck that.”

I take a seat at my desk, and turn my swivel chair toward my office window. “He also threatened to start hitting up his other contacts to sell Mont Blanc.”

“You think he’s bluffing?” Jace asks from behind me.

“I don’t know.”

“Gerald’s all about protecting what’s his.”

“Well, we’d better start thinking like he does,” I answer, ready to leave and not come back for the rest of the day, something I’ve never done in my time as a partner in this company.

“Time to protect what’s ours,” he agrees.

Something about the way that statement comes out gets me thinking. I turn back to face him. “That’s it.”

“What?”

I double check that my phone is in my pocket and head for the door in a hurry. “I’ve got an idea. Leave it with me.”