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It’s ten now, and I need to head to Zoey’s store soon.
Thing is, my leisurely timeline to do with her store is now fast track. Tapping my pen against the leatherbound notebook on my desk in my office, I glare at my notes. I should have known the longer it took me to close all the deals and crush the last holdout—Zoey—into dust that the hyenas and vultures would come sniffing.
Bronn Lichtenfeld won’t mention me by name, so that’s not a worry. I don’t like him and I’ve met him a few times, but I don’t have to know someone not to like them. I learn a lot by watching how people conduct business and he’s about money. Shallow, vulgar in that Lichtenfeld way.
He, or I’m betting his father, has seen what I’m buying up and knows it’s big. They’re in banking but they like to invest in money makers no matter what. If it’s got the name Sinclair attached, then…
No. He’s not going to mention Magnus to Zoey, although his calling her sent a jolt through me yesterday. He’s going to try and buy her out. She won’t do it. But his sniffing about, or rather his sniffing about properties in the area, means I have to push fast forward.
I’ve no intention of giving him money, of paying overblown prices to an overblown ego. And I’ve also no intentions of sharing anything I’m doing. Especially this project.
What I need to do is up the gran game, which I’ve set in motion. Part Zoey with money for dear old gran.
It’s not like I’m going to let her sink, at least not now. She’ll get it all back and I’ll save her, making everything come together.
But I need to get at her books. As in the ones with the numbers. And I’ve got a special charity ready to launch, one of the reasons I spoke to the kid.
I was more than aware of one wrong move with him and the kid would take it the wrong way. Worse, Zoey would have as well, and I don’t want to disappoint her.
As part of the game, of course.
I rub my hand against my chest, like I can dislodge the sudden cold lump that feels a little like regret and foreboding, but is probably hunger.
If I get the kid on board, get him some work, it gives him purpose, and it makes me look good in Zoey’s eyes. And down the track, when she comes crashing down along with her store, well, she’ll remember that.
“You look like you’re both plotting and the world is weighing you down.”
I flick my glance up at my mother. “I’m getting a new personal assistant.”
“Please. I’m your mother. An employee can’t stop me.”
“You have other children. Don’t you want to terrorize one of them?”
My mother pulls out a chair and elegantly sits down, smoothing her hands along the front of her tailored skirt. “They’re not the ones who are trying to keep hold of the Sinclair jewels and the company, Magnus.”
I pick up a matte black folder from my desk and toss it to her. She catches it with a grimace and opens it, flipping through the thick hand cut paper inside.
She closes it and sets it down. “Impressive.”
“Heart, mother. That’s a whole lot of heart there. Think Jenson and his little team will be impressed?”
“No doubt.”
I narrow my eyes at her.
“But thing is, I’m going to be judging you.”
“So it’s all good.”
“I told you this is more complicated than you might be thinking, Magnus. Heart isn’t just money.”
“Money helps and you know it.”
“Money, Magnus, isn’t the only way.”
I spread my hands. “You told me three-legged puppies were out. I’m actually doing good things.”
“You are, and I commend you.”
