And he was in a fancy suit next to a woman dressed in white.
He looked happy.
And the only reason I could think my mom was sad was because he was at work again, which made me sad too.
“You’re such a good boy.” Mama came back in. “Love you forever, Bridge.”
“Forever and always,” I agreed with a smile.
“We’re here,” Edward instructed. I refused to call him Father. That sort of honor didn’t belong to him now, did it?
I wasn’t nervous about what I was about to do. If anything, after seeing Julian, I had a singular focus: get Mom the care she needed, using the money Edward was signing over to us, and make sure that she never cried again over the fact that we couldn’t pay her medical bills.
All I had to do was pretend to be Julian, give him time to heal, give him time to get back to normal, and then my life would be normal again.
I would sell myself in order to keep my mom alive. The only cost was my soul, and in return I would get two million dollars cash and the rest of her home health care paid for. I would sign paperwork naming me temporary CEO as Bridge but publicly pretend to be Julian until he woke up and took over and then I’d disappear into the mist like movie magic. The board of directors would know the truth because it was one thing to pretend to be Julian in public, but signing his name on legal documents crossed a line that could put the company in jeopardy. Besides, Edward knew they wouldn’t risk any damage to the value of their stocks by complaining.
Right. I signed over twelve months of my life to a man I hated, in order to protect both Tennyson Financial and IFC from drastic drops in the stocks. Even though he was a shrewd businessman, he was still keeping every single IFC employee and managing to double his portfolio, thus making Tennyson Financial the largest finance company in the world. Thousands of people would get bonuses, promotions, I just had to remember I was helping them, not making my own father wealthier.
I may have been a personal trainer and bartender, but I knew I could do this. I was born with this company in my blood, loath as I was to admit it.
Julian and Mom, you’re doing this for them. Not your dad.
“Now, it’s very important”—Dad adjusted his tie—“that you stick to the script, you’re focusing on family and the business, no interviews until you fully heal.”
“Heal.” I scowled. “Right, and how exactly do I heal up from a coma? Yoga?”
He ignored me.
“It’s necessary, you know.” He put his hand on my shoulder like he had a right to and then pulled back when something like a growl escaped my lips. “Wish I had known you’d be the bigger of the two, I might have picked better.” He winked.
I was seconds away from getting charged with homicide.
“Oh, I think you got exactly what you deserved,” I said, enjoying the way his face turned purple and then red as he put on his sunglasses and jerked his head toward the dark building.
“Your brother’s a fighter.” He fiddled with his tie. “He’ll make it through. We just need to give him time. Meanwhile I need this buyout of IFC to happen without any surprises. The board is getting antsy, especially with its soon-to-be CEO injured, so you’ll need to make some appearances in a few weeks. The doctors will call it a miracle.”
The more he talked, the sicker I became, and then someone opened the door, letting all the cold air out of the limo.
The apartment building looked like it had seen better days. Mortar crumbled between dirty red bricks. The metal security door looked like a case of tetanus waiting to happen. It was just the first stop on a day of hell that would end up making me hate myself. I tried to cling to the hope my choice brought, not the anger or numbness that came with doing the devil a favor.
Two hefty bodyguards flanked us. I was dressed in my street clothes from earlier, sneakers, joggers, and a hoodie.
The larger bodyguard’s head was fully tattooed, and he buzzed one of the rooms.
“Who is it?” The voice was gruff and sounded far away. Lucky bastard.
“T,” he barked. “Let us up, we got the guy.”
Today “the guy,” tomorrow . . . I shook my head. I couldn’t think about it; if I thought about it, I might just back out. Already I was tempted. The memory of the look on my mother’s face was enough to make me want to run in the opposite direction, like she thought that she would never see me again once a Tennyson had me in his clutches.