Not in Her Wildest Dreams(9)

"I'm leaving," she told Sterling with a look that warned injury if he didn't get the hell out of her way.

Sterling hissed out a breath and reached to open the door, but someone pushed it in from the other side.

Lyle. He brought the scent of stale cigarettes with him and appeared  hung over, which was pretty much his signature vibe these days. Paige's  heart sank every time she saw him like this, or worse, in the middle of a  bender.

Cleaned up and well-rested, he was the spit of their father, without the  tailored suit, diamond pinky ring or precision trimmed hair cut, but he  had the same crooked mouth, the same height that put him eye-level with  Sterling, and the same love-me-or-leave-me attitude.

Sadly, they all left him, which was the primary reason she felt like she never could.

"You sign anything yet?" he asked Paige.

"No." She hugged her purse to her chest.

"Good. ‘cause I'm taking over for Dad. What do you think of that, Golden Boy?" he asked Sterling. "You and me. Partners."

He made a gun with his finger and thumb and took a shot.





Chapter Five

"Not fucking likely." Sterling's drawl was deceptively easy-going.

"Exactly," Walter said.

Paige leaned around Lyle and pushed the door to slam it shut, ticked  right off that she was locking herself back into this artificially lit  room, with the artificially intelligent, when she'd been so close to  escaping.

"Why would you want to take over Dad's shares?" She'd just skimmed past  the option clause and it looked tricky. She didn't think he was  eligible, but he didn't look in the mood to hear it.

"Same reason he wants to." He was locked in a mental game of chicken with Sterling. "Because I can."

Sterling looked rooted like an oak, his arms folded, his hair practically rippling with the hostility radiating off him.

It came to her that Lyle thought Sterling was taking over the factory and would fire him.

Did Sterling insist he wasn't taking over? No. And there was nothing to  stop Walter from firing Lyle if their father wasn't here to advocate for  him. Lyle knew he couldn't be fired if he was a partner, though.

"Your sister already agreed to sell, so it's no longer available," Walter said.

Lyle turned on her, eyes narrowed.

She turned her head toward Walter. "I'm fuzzy on when I agreed to do that. Was it before or after you invited me to screw you?"

"That's a damned lie!" Walter shouted.

Her veins stung with a jolt of adrenaline, but she held onto her composure, offering a flat, "You started it."

"And see," Lyle said softly, "that's not who I would have expected to issue that invitation."

Paige choked.

Sterling muttered something about feeding Lyle his teeth, and stepped up.

Lyle would have met him halfway, but Paige had saved Lyle's dental work  more than once and pushed herself in front of him, facing her brother.  Angry. Really freaking furious that he was making this worse.

"What is wrong with you?" She tried to shove him back a step, forcing  him to break eye contact with Sterling and look at her, so he could see  how hurt she was.

His lips tightened into a crooked line. He looked away, saying nothing.  Lost. Lost in the way he'd been when their mother had left. Worse. Still  trying to process his girlfriend suffering a still birth last year and  quitting him and this town the moment she'd been out of hospital.

He'd been on a tear of self-destruction ever since. Having their father nearly die again hadn't helped one iota.

"Do you really want Dad's job?" she asked, giving him her be serious look.

"Running a company's a lot like work," Sterling drawled behind her.

"You'd probably be happier with the cash." Walter said, pulling the check from its envelope.

Lyle raised brows of interest while Walter set it on the desktop so all those plentiful zeroes were visible.

Lyle reached, but Paige nabbed it first, backing up against the door to keep it beyond his reach.

"Pidge," he warned, using the nickname she hated.

She tore the check into pieces, letting them scatter.

All three men stared at her.

Her heart was going a mile a minute and embarrassment burned even more  strongly than the urge to fight and flee. Intense heat climbed from her  chest, across her face, into her ears and under her hair as she realized  how melodramatic she was behaving.         

     



 

But she didn't know how else to make her point. "I'm not taking a check today."

Lyle turned back to Walter, "How much was it?"

"Half the year end statement." Walter fanned out the documents on his desktop, looking for the right one.

"No!" She used her arm to get between Lyle and the desk. "I'm Dad's  proxy. You can't make any promises to sell or take over or anything. I  decide."

Lyle caught her arm to tug her out of the way.

Sterling clamped his hand over Lyle's thick wrist.

Lyle stilled.

Hoarfrost descended, dropping the temperature of this stuffy room to sub-zero.

"You wanna dance, G.B.?" Lyle said in a deadly voice.

"This is a business meeting, not the dumpster ring at The Mill,"  Sterling returned in exactly the same scary voice, not the least bit  intimidated.

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Stomach roiling, Paige physically peeled  Sterling's grip from her brother's arm, then twisted her arm free from  Lyle's hold. "Go back to work and we'll talk later."

"No," he said, hard gaze switching to Walter. "Let's talk now."

"Listen to me," she said in her toughest voice, one hand placed solidly  into her brother's chest. "We can't sell until there's been an audit and  an appraisal. Do you want to settle for less than what's legally owed?"

It was the only way she could get his full attention. Lyle was the kind  of guy who owed certain debts for years and failed to collect on others,  but woe betide the bastard who tried to screw him over.

"So you're going to audit?" he asked her.

Dear God no.

Walter made a disparaging noise.

"It's up to Walter to hire someone. I'm heading back to Seattle and will  check back in a couple of weeks to find out what he decides."

"I won't be here then," Sterling said.

"Why do you need to be?" she threw at him.

He didn't answer, looked kind of thunderstruck.

"I'm going to talk to Dad so he knows where this stands. Don't ask him  to sign anything behind my back," she warned, taking in all three pairs  of eyes, including her brother's as she got her hand on the door knob.  "My ex is a lawyer and I took free counsel in lieu of support payments."

He's a real dick, she wanted to add, but she was already mad that she  had invoked Anthony at all, as if she couldn't solve her own problems.

She spun and retreated, getting the hell out of Dodge.

~ * ~

Sterling swung the door shut behind Paige and Lyle, then rubbed feeling back into his face. "That went well."

His father sank into his chair. "If she tells people I suggested we have sex-"

"For Christ's sake, Dad. She was mad. And has a right to be." Sterling  leaned on the back of a chair. "You were offside, getting personal like  that."

"She's threatening my company. It doesn't get more personal. You'd know  that if you ever did more than babysit someone else's investment."

Sterling tightened his grip on the chair. "Yeah? Well, here's a pro tip I  picked up babysitting. Personal attacks don't invite cooperation from  anyone." He straightened. "And if you want more advice, you can pay for  it, because I make damned good money babysitting."

His father's lips puckered rhythmically, the way they always did when he  was getting worked up. He rubbed his palms together, not with glee, but  with anxiety, creating a sandpapery sound.

Behind Sterling, someone knocked on the door.

He ignored it and so did his father.

Ask me for help, Dad. He had to know he needed it. Sterling didn't know how he'd fix this over a weekend, but-

The door pushed inward. Jesus, what now?

"I brought cake!" His mother entered with a box as big and white as her  smile. She wore a cream suit over a green blouse-company colors-and the  chemical scent of fresh hairspray. It wafted under Sterling's nose with  the sickly aroma of buttercream icing as she passed by him to the desk.  "We'll have champagne with dinner tonight. I bought steaks, but I  couldn't wait. Everything went smoothly?"

Sterling closed the door, not answering.

His father gave him one dark, warning scowl, and said a gruff, "Fine."

Here we go. Sterling looked to the ceiling.

"Of course it did. I didn't expect anything different. Grady knew that  was the best offer he was likely to get." His mother wore a hard smile  as she ran her fingertip along the bottom edge of the box, then turned  it to look for the tape. "But why aren't you happy? This is a  celebration."         

     



 

"We haven't seen the cake yet," his father said.

"I can't seem to open-here, maybe? We did this your way, Walt. I thought  you would be more pleased." There was a muted snick as she used her  fingernail to pop the pieces of tape holding the box closed. "There."