I Hate, I Bake, and I Don’t Date! by Alina Jacobs

57

Beck

“This is a fucking disaster,” Greg said when I walked into the conference room at Svensson Investment the next morning

“He’s trying to get their trust fund,” I said to Greg.

I had pulled background and credit checks on Tess’s stepfather. The man was up to his toupee in debt. It was clear Alistair didn’t care about his nieces at all. He only wanted the trust fund money.

“He’s slandering our family,” Mike said, concerned. “It’s going to affect our business.”

“I’ve already filed stop-press orders and take-down orders for the content,” I replied.

“Then we’re going to sue the shit out of Alistair.”

“No, we aren’t,” Greg said, steepling his hands.

“You’re awfully calm,” I said, narrowing my eyes at my older brother.

“I thought something like this might transpire when the girls arrived on the scene. As such, I have multiple contingency plans in place.”

“Contingency plans?” I looked at Greg like he had grown a second head. “We need to go scorched-earth! He’s trying to steal our siblings!”

“That’s lawsuits and bad press and devaluing our companies. People don’t want to do business with people that can’t quietly handle their shit,” Greg said coldly. “No, these tabloids will take the stories down. I have a crisis PR firm dropping information about Meg and Hunter’s upcoming wedding since that’s nice, positive news, and then you will bribe the stepfather to go away.”

“We are not just going to fold.” I scowled.

“You know I always recommend settling,” my brother said simply. “It’s the most financially sensible path.”

“We need to go after him for slander.”

“There’s no way we can prove that his words had any ill financial effect,” Greg said. “And the subsequent lawsuit will bring more attention. This is the easiest way forward.”

“You’re such a hypocrite,” I said. “You’re going after Belle’s tower to teach her a lesson. We need to do the same with Alistair.”

“He’s a nobody,” Greg sneered. “He’s not competition; he’s a slug, and we just need to flick him off the rosebush then move on.”

“Tess said he’s very manipulative,” I protested.

“Tess?” Greg’s lip curled up. “Walker, why haven’t you fired her yet?”

“Beck was supposed to do it,” Walker said, throwing me under the bus.

“And this is why,” Greg stated, “we are going with my plan. Your assistant with benefits believes her stepfather is some sort of immortal monster, but really, he is just a man with a bunch of debt. Those types of people are the easiest to manipulate.”

Logically, I knew he was probably right, but it was still infuriating.

We spent the next few hours with Josh and Eric, working with them to craft a contract for the stepfather to sign. He would accept the payment in exchange for testifying that I was the best person to adopt the girls, and he would also post a statement and video apologizing for his past lies.

“Any final thoughts from the resident financial expert?” Greg asked, daring me to argue with him.

“We’ll want to put the money in an escrow account,” I said begrudgingly, “to be distributed over a certain period of time, just to make sure he doesn’t backtrack.”

“It will take a bit to set that up, right?” Josh asked me, making a note on the draft of the contract.

“I’ll start working on it,” I promised.

It was late in the afternoon when I headed back to the condo. I fumed as I looked over the paperwork for the escrow account in the car. I was going to pay Enola and Annie’s uncle a million dollars. I could have used that money for so much else. Shit, I would rather have paid lawyers to take Alistair down.

If Alistair hadn’t shown up, I never would have had to pay it at all.

Tess wasn’t back yet. I had several missed messages from her. I still needed to fire her. Owen had left me a cryptic message wanting me to call him. I was sure that Walker had talked to him about Tess.

I just needed a little more time until I could resolve the issue with Alistair.

I set coffee on to boil. I needed to do some of my actual work this evening, and the girls would be home soon. They had stayed late at Svensson Investment to work on their app.

The doorbell rang as I was pouring myself a cup of coffee.

It better not be one of those crazy seniors. I cannot deal with them today.

My face fell in shock when I realized who was there.

“Alistair,” I said, opening the door. “And Shannyn?” I curled back my upper lip. “You have some fucking nerve coming here.”

“Look,” Alistair said, “I think there might have been some misunderstandings.”

“Things got out of hand,” Shannyn added.

“You went after my family,” I told them. Fuck what Greg thought—I wasn’t dealing with these people at all. They had no shame. The fact that they showed up here at my home was proof that paying them off wasn’t going to do any good. We needed to crush them.

“You better leave before I call the police,” I growled.

“We weren’t trying to mess with your family,” Shannyn said, tone conciliatory. “It was about Tess. She was such a spoiled, awful stepsister. She was a bully to me and mean to me. I was just trying to hurt her like she hurt me. You and your family were caught in the cross fire, and I sincerely apologize.”

“She’s manipulative, just like her mom,” the girls’ uncle interjected. “She has such a bad attitude. She hates all men. She was just horrific to live with, especially after her mother died, and I was left alone to raise her and Shannyn by myself.”

“She made up this fantastical lie that I was stealing things from her. She destroyed everything in the house that her mom left,” Shannyn said in a rush, “because she didn’t want me to have any of it. And I did consider her my mom, and I don’t have anything left from her.” She dabbed her eyes.

I looked between the two of them. I had no idea where this was going. Was Shannyn trying to convince me to believe that everything she had said about Tess was true?

As if.

I knew Tess, and that didn’t sound like her at all.

“I just wanted to explain and say I’m sorry,” Shannyn said, blowing her nose. “And we will of course be issuing a statement saying that it was all lies and our accounts were hacked. We won’t fight you for custody of the girls.”

“Oh,” I said, confused. “Well, thank you?”

“Of course!” Shannyn smiled. Then she looked over my shoulder and gasped dramatically. “The painting!”

“That thing?” I frowned. “It’s hideous.”

“It was my mother’s,” Shannyn said, pushing past me. “Tess stole it. Mama left it to me in her will, and Tess knew. She hated the painting, but she stole it to spite me. It was all I had left from Mama.”

She looked at me expectantly from under her lashes that were barely wet. “But…”

“Ah,” I said. “I see now. Let’s cut the shit, shall we?”

Shannyn stiffened.

“You want this painting in exchange for retracting all your statements and making social media posts about how none of what had been written about me and my family was true and how you support my bid to adopt Annie and Enola,” I stated.

“I was going to do that anyways. I was just shocked to see this painting and—”

“No, you weren’t,” I said, cutting her off. “And honestly, I don’t care. If that’s the trade, that’s the trade. I’m a businessman. Don’t try and manipulate me.”

“You’re just going to give it to me?” Shannyn asked in shock.

“If it’s in exchange for the social media posts and a video statement, yes,” I said. I took the painting off the wall. “Make the posts, and you can have it.”

Shannyn and her father took out their phones.

“I already have the material done,” she said, handing the device to me.

“And she comes prepared,” I said, reading the statement. It sounded fine.

Shannyn made the posts, and I checked on my phone to see that it was live. Then I handed her the painting.

“Free and clear?” Shannyn asked.

“Of course,” I told her.

“It is because I wanted a piece of my mother,” she said slowly.

“I don’t care if you wanted it to make Tess suffer,” I told her. “You made the posts. Our business is done here.”

Shannyn’s father picked up the painting and wordlessly walked out the front door.

I sat on the couch and let my shoulders relax.

It was over. I won, and I didn’t have to pay a million dollars either.

My phone beeped with another message from Tess.

I needed to respond to her. I needed to tell her about the painting.

It would be fine. She loved my sisters. She would be okay with what I had done, right?