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She pauses, considering her next move. “Well, you know what, Jack Whitmore?” She emphasizes the name sarcastically before continuing, “Fuck you. And fuck your daddy.”
With a determined breath, she brushes a stray hair from her face. “Here’s what’s going to happen now. I will finish this contract with you as I promised. I can stay in the brownstone for a while longer if you need me to. But you must figure out a way to let Walt down gently, and soon. It will be a cold day in hell before I stick around for a minute longer than the agreed upon six months. And let me make this convenient and easy on you.” The emphasis is blistering. “Anything that was real between us is now over.” She spits out the words, her posture rigid with outrage. “Actually, who am I kidding? You never had any feelings for me anyway. I should be thanking you for the reminder.”
With icy finality, she turns from me and walks away down the windswept beach.
I stay behind, watching her, a sense of dread and loss lingering.
But it is better this way.
22
BILLIONAIRE’S BARGAIN
A knock precedes Walt barging into my office. “Well? Are we locking down this VR production partner or not?” Impatiently, he slaps his large hands down on my desk.
Cade and I share a resigned look. “Walsh’s capacity outweighs the competition,” I concede finally. “We were discussing possible rollout logistics.”
Walt plops himself in a chair next to Cade, chest puffing triumphantly. “Roger already promised to rush the prototype manufacturing if we sign right away.” He leans back, bushy silver brows raised in expectation. “Sign off on the contract, and I'll approve the transition of Whitmore leadership by the end of the quarter, Jackie boy. What d'ya say? It looks like you smoothed things over with Maddie too, and you’ll be happily married soon. By the way, I think you should pull the wedding up to spring. No need to wait until the fall.”
I rub my temples, the beginnings of a tension headache throbbing.
“Money, lots of money is coming our way,” Walt gloats, rubbing his palms.
“As far as infrastructure scaleup is concerned, it looks like Walsh’s capacity and speed outdoes both Hanes and Burke.” Cade taps the glossy proposal packet splayed on my desk, glittering in the twilight.
I grunt in agreement. “Roger promised production vehicles in under two months leveraging his other in-house tech. But Hanes has solid peer reviews, even if their prototype timeline lags.”
Walt scoffs, clearly impatient with my hesitance. “Roger's empire can deliver cutting-edge tech at unbeatable speeds. Who cares about peer reviews? We could be making profits now.” He pushes the Walsh glossies toward me. “Roger and I go way back.”
I shift in my seat, the leadership succession thing still weighing on me. Picking Walsh could let me wrap up this whole pretend engagement quicker. Lately, being around Maddie has been downright painful with how frosty she acts since our nuclear blowout on the beach.
There is no need to prolong this debacle.
Walsh's big factory can pump out the headsets on a mass scale, satisfying Walt and securing my position here. Then I can cut Maddie loose.
With a resolute exhale, I look once more over the ambitious Walsh charts promising delivery. As the day deepens past dusk, the flicker of evening lights transforms the sky into a shimmering canvas.
Cade nods thoughtfully, studying me. “No doubt Hanes craftsmanship is reputable. Their CTO was an adjunct professor at MIT back in the day, right? But still. They are small and new. Launching something cutting edge like our VR product nationwide might be too grand for them right now.”
I swivel my leather chair to face him. “They're eager and they’re flexible. I like it. They are itching to revolutionize therapy for veterans, just as we are. Our values are a hundred percent aligned.”
“Screw values,” my father scoffs. “You can always set your values straight later. Walsh will give you rapid impact on a significant scale from the get-go. That’s priceless.”
I shift slightly, biting my tongue. The idea of shrugging aside values for convenience and money leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
“Hey, your passion project will be in good hands whichever route you decide to take,” Cade jumps in, his brows lifted. “For better or worse, the Roger Walsh empire controls the distribution pipeline.”
I wince, realizing he is right. Banking on the new kid on the block, as attractive as they are, is risky. Outgunned startups bite the dust every day against Fortune 500 war machines. We will be able to rely on Walsh.
“Legal has done their due diligence?” I ask, sighing.
“Yes. We are ready to roll.”
“Then let’s do it. We can finalize everything first thing on Monday.”
Walt's lips twitch smugly. He levers himself out of the leather chair with a loud grunt.
“Knew you'd recognize Roger's potential, son! We’re going to take PTSD therapy mainstream and make a killing.” He shakes a long finger in our direction. “Now finish up this vendor vettin' malarkey here. I expect you boys putting in face time with our shiny new partners tonight.”
