Not that I’d ever give her the time of day. This meeting could only be awkward, since I presumed both AllanandCora would be in attendance. Soul mates or not, Cora made a choice eight years ago. And then she’d made several other worse choices since. There was no room for change, compassion, or forgiveness in our current, crystalized realities.
Fuck ’em all.
My driver delivered me to the front doors of the Margulis Realty building. I grinned up at the sleek tower and scratched Zero behind the ears. The last time I’d been inside, I’d been in my last year of grad school with barely a thousand dollars to my name.
And now look at me.
“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” I told Harry, the driver. “But be close by in case I need to make a quick getaway.”
Harry nodded, smirking through the rearview mirror. “I’ll be here, boss.”
I exited the Escalade, Zero hopping out alongside me. Zero waited obediently by my side, off-leash as he’d been trained. I tapped the window to let Harry know we were good. Curious glances flitted our way as New Yorkers streamed by on the sidewalk. I tutted for Zero to follow me and I strutted into Allan’s building as if I owned it. Security immediately closed in, blocking off the hushed, marble lobby.
“You can’t bring that dog in here,” a buff guard who looked like a retired MMA fighter told me.
I checked my watch, pushing my sunglasses up on my head. “I have a three o’clock with Allan Margulis.”
“Name?”
“Spencer Wattford. Call him yourself and see.” I sent them cool grins as they checked a kiosk. After a moment, they waved me through.
“Come on, Zero,” I said, loud enough for passers-by to hear. “It’s time for you to meet big bad Allan Margulis.”
I immediately heard Damian’s voice in my head—Jesus, Axel, you want to tank the deal or what?What could I say? My brothers played it safer than I did. But I had some fucking bones to pick.
I whistled to myself as I headed to the elevators, masking my anxiety. I passed the plant display near the elevator lobby. Eight years ago, I had stowed my shitty leather jacket behind some ferns right there before I went to inform Allan I planned to marry his daughter. I’d needed to use an alias—Spencer Wattford—to get onto his schedule. So really, today was also a trip down memory lane.
For all parties involved.
Zero and I were the only ones in the elevator as we soared up to the thirtieth floor. He sniffed the inside of the elevator car curiously and stayed close to my side as we walked into the reception area of the Margulis executive office suite. As the doe-eyed receptionist looked up at me, several evil thoughts crossed my mind: I should fuck her to prove something to Cora, though what that would prove, I wasn’t sure; I should get the entire administrative staff enrolled in Fairchild Wealth Management, to nag further at Allan; I should fuck the entire administrative staff to prove something else, though I wasn’t sure what, and Jesus, that would be a lot of fucking.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I’m positive you can.” I offered her a winning smile, which she immediately returned. Sometimes, I felt like Leonardo DiCaprio as Frank Abagnale inCatch Me If You Can,but with more tattoos and a fuckton more money. Except I wasn’t conning anyone anymore. My checks didn’t bounce. I had faked it until I fuckingmadeit. “Spencer Wattford here for a meeting with the board.”
“Okay, let me find your appointment.” Her attention turned to the computer. She tapped the keyboard a few times and then nodded. “Yes. They’re already waiting for you. Let me tell them you’re here.”
“Excellent.” I looked down at Zero, finally deciding on which one of my evil ideas seemed best. “Would you be able to pass me the information for your HR department as well? I’ve been talking to Mr. Margulis about the upcoming switch for the employees’ financial planning, and I’ll need to organize a few details with your benefits coordinator.”
“Oh, sure. Of course.” The receptionist searched in a drawer, and then handed me a business card. Bingo. I knew where to launch my insidious side-plan, and now my dick was in no danger of falling off. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the conference room.”
I brightened my smile at the same time my insides churned. Zero and I followed the receptionist down a carpeted hallway and around a corner. She pulled open a dark wood door, gesturing for Zero and me to enter.
I thanked her and steeled myself. And then I cast my sights on the Margulis board room.
Inside, everyone I’d ever had a problem with had conveniently gathered around the same glass-topped table. The sunlight from the gray early summer afternoon filtered in, casting muted patterns on the walls.
But the most beautiful part about the crowd in front of me was the scowl that formed on Allan Margulis’s face. I loved watching Spencer Wattford’s true identity sink in for the second time in his life. And his expression when he noticed Zero at my side made the whole thing even better.
And the worst part?
Cora Margulis sat directly in front of me.
I couldn’t look at her, only allowed myself the quickest impressions. Glossy brown hair pulled into a sleek ponytail. Lips the shade of a mulberry wine. Gold wedding ring glinting on her finger.
Eli Rossberg, her husband, at her side.
CHAPTER TWO