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The Baby Clause: A Christmas Romance by Tara Wylde, Holly Hart (61)

93

45. SARA

The expression on Quentin Pearce’s face is passive, but his eyes are blazing. I’ve never actually been scared of him until now – intimidated, sure, but not flat-out afraid like this.

“I don’t have time for this,” he says coldly. “Get back to work.”

“I meant what I said,” I say defiantly. “I’m done.”

He stares at me for a moment before starting to pace his office. It makes him look like a panther in a cage.

“Let me guess,” he says finally. “You and Chance Talbot are sleeping together.”

My gut cramps as I realize he’s even smarter than I thought. Could he have possibly been listening in on my phone the whole time? No, that’s outlandish.

Isn’t it?

“My reasons are my own,” I say.

“It’s either that or he’s tried to co-opt you by offering you a job.”

Whoa. Thanks for the excuse, Quentin. I couldn’t have come up with a better one myself. I fake a flinch to make him think he’s hit it on the head.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “What matters is that our contract is done. We agreed on $5,000 a day. It’s been fourteen days. You owe me $70,000.”

“You won’t get a penny,” he says acidly. “Can you afford that?”

I can’t, and I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try.

“We’re done here,” I say with a sardonic smile. “It’s been a slice.”

I turn to walk to the door when he says: “Not so fast.”

Shit. I almost made it. Should have known he’d never let this go that easy.

“If Talbot thinks he’s won, he’s deluded. I told you before that I’ve heard rumors about Atlas. About him. Blackmail. War profiteering.”

I turn to face him again. This time, I meet his glare with my own.

“Good for you,” I say. “Have fun dishing about it with your coffee klatch.”

“Your abrupt resignation, especially in light of our conversation the other day, only serves to confirm that I was right. The missing investor is the key. All I need is evidence.”

Oh, fuck. I never thought of that. Neither did Chance.

“You’re the one who’s deluded,” I say, trying to sound cool. “Leaving this job has nothing to do with Chance Talbot and everything to do with you. Working with you makes me constantly feel like I need a shower. You leave a slime trail behind you like a slug.”

His eyes flash again and he crosses the room to where I’m standing. I hold my ground, until he’s well inside my personal space. It’s an intimidation tactic that won’t work on me.

“You’re quite pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” he says. “I can’t help but wonder if Talbot will still have a job for you when you’re on the witness stand, testifying against him.”

My heart sinks, but I keep it off my face. I hope.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“A few calls to the right people will be enough to have the Department of Defense in Talbot’s office within a week,” he says. “At the very least, they’ll have a lot of difficult questions about their contracts with Atlas. They’re the company’s top client, after all.”

My eyes narrow. “What good will that do? You’d put the company you want to buy out of business?”

“Not out of business. Under new management. The DoD need only bring you in for a deposition to get enough evidence to call in the FBI. The Sullivans won’t be able to sell fast enough. I might even be able to lower my initial offer as well.”

Oh, shit. Shit shitshitshitshit.

Keep your mouth shut, Sara. Just walk out.

“Judging by your silence, I’ve struck a nerve,” he says. “So let me prove to you that I’m not the slug you think I am. I’ll give you a way out of the situation.”

I reach the door to his office. Every fiber in me wants to just turn the knob and walk out. But I can’t.

“Go ahead and tell me,” I say without turning around. “I know you’re dying to.”

“Talbot can have a change of heart and recommend that the Sullivans take my new, smaller offer. Of course, he’ll have to sell his shares, as well. Atlas will belong to Empire, lock, stock and barrel.”

Some choice. The devil or the deep blue sea.

I walk out without saying another word. As I cross the threshold, I hear Pearce’s parting shot.

“Don’t make me go to court, Sara,” he says. “Believe it or not, I’d rather not ruin your life if I don’t have to.”