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CHAPTER 19
Miller
My world has exploded.
I sat in meetings all day with my PR team, my lawyers, and all our executive board.
The Ferguson Files were something that I had briefly mentioned in passing while I was in a relationship with Becky. I never thought it would be something that she would recall, or hell, retain. But she did.
When I first opened InterMind Technologies, I had a financial advisor on staff. His name was Marco Ferguson. Without my knowledge, and without most of the accounting staff’s knowledge, he created a line item in the budget that he siphoned money out of for his own personal use. He mismanaged project funds that were supposed to be allocated across two major projects. Ultimately, he stole thousands from my company, and it took an external annual audit to figure it out. Over the years, we’ve alluded to elusive Ferguson Files as a warning for other projects. We buried this information from the public, from the project sponsors, and I put my money into the projects instead, so when we would update sponsors, they would be none-the-wiser. The projects went to completion and the money that I put in; I made back tenfold.
If the Ferguson Files became public knowledge at the time, I would have lost those projects, and much more money. Hell, I doubt that other sponsors would have taken the risk to invest if they learned I allowed that to ultimately happen. My company was new, and I wasn’t a known name in the tech world. I was merely a child.
With the basic information coming to light from Becky’s public accusations, stating that InterMind Tech. was hiding something big. We crafted a statement that went out earlier this afternoon, alluding to a past misfortune.
And more so, my lawyers are dealing with Becky. She will have a mountain of issues for the future.
If only she would have kept her mouth shut.
And now, I’m sitting in the booth that I’ve commandeered as mine every time I come to the diner and I’m hearing that Denise thought we were done.
“I thought you came to the realization that you were out of my league and were here to break up with me.”
“If anything, you’re out of my league. You know that, right? You and I couldn’t be more different!”
“Um, hello. Have you met you? You live in a fancy high-rise with a view to die for. I live in a three-story building that is being held together by rubber bands and super glue. You own a business, a successful and amazing venture. I am a struggling student who barely understands differential equations and waits tables. My mom and dad pay my rent and I basically eat all my meals here. We are far from one and the same. We couldn’t be more different.”
“And above all, I love you. I don’t see any of those differences. I just see you and me. I see us. We’re equals. And I want us to continue. To move forward, together.”
“Together,” she repeats.
“Yes. If you’ll have me.”
She looks nervous, biting the corner of her lower lip. Her breaths are heavy, and her eyes are glassy.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“How often am I going to deal with a group of reporters? Because this afternoon, it was nuts.”
“Shit. There were reporters here? Are you okay? What did they say?”
“I didn’t talk to them. I kind of bull-dozed my way inside here and haven’t looked out front since. But there was a lot of them out there. They never came inside.”
“Shit. I should probably apologize to your boss.” I look around.
“We’ll save that for another time. Can we go home? I’m ready to get out of here.”
“Absolutely. Your place or mine?”
