Make Me (Sterling Shore Series #10)(41)

Maverick is talking about one of the app posters in the elevator, not realizing it was her app back when he downloaded, and how cool that is … blah blah blah. When we emerge from the elevator, I start a path for Harley's office.

But my feet stumble to a halt as my eyebrows go up and land on someone I shouldn't be seeing in Harley's building.

"What's Britt doing here?" Maverick asks, confused. "And why is she holding a stack of papers?"

She's smiling and talking with a woman I don't know.

"If you're looking for Harley, she's not here," a guy says.

I'm fairly sure his name is Frank, considering Harley has threatened to fire him in my presence at least four times now.

"I just got off the phone with her. She said she was working late," I tell him warily.

He shrugs. "Then she lied. She left over an hour ago. Said she had a personal thing to take care of. Then Vivica showed up, went in with Harley's favorite lawyer, and came out a few seconds ago."

"Vivica?" Maverick asks as my throat goes dry.

"The one talking to your cousin," he says lazily, gesturing over his shoulder to where Britt is animatedly talking to a woman.

My stomach sinks, and Harley's phone conversation from a few nights ago comes rearing back to the forefront of my mind.

Britt is talking like she and Vivica are friends.

"Good. Just keep pretending to be her friend, lure her into a sense of security, and make it hurt twice as much when the time comes."

I hate where my mind is going right now.

Refusing to jump to ridiculous conclusions, I face Frank as he continues to put papers into bins.

"What is Britt even doing here?" I ask calmly.

He looks at me like I'm an idiot. "She works here."

"What?" Maverick asks, confused.

"She's worked here for over a month now. Close to two," Frank adds.

Phantom needles prick the back of my neck, and Maverick stiffens beside me.

"Oops," Frank says, rolling his eyes. "Forgot I wasn't allowed to tell you that. Don't tattle to your girlfriend on me."

Something tells me he didn't really forget he wasn't supposed to tell me that as he walks away with a smirk.

"Why would Harley and Britt keep this a secret?" Maverick ask, still sounding confused and not vibrating with the same fury I am.



       
         
       
        

"Britt is naïve and gullible. If someone wanted her to stay quiet about something, it wouldn't take much convincing. I should have noticed the way she always gravitates toward Harley. I just thought they got along."

"They're friends," he corrects.

"No," I say rigidly. "Britt just thinks they're friends."

I turn and disappear into the elevator, and Maverick joins me. Just as he's about to speak, another body suddenly dashes into the elevator with us.

Vivica Drivel.

Her eyes widen when they land on mine.

"What are you doing here?" she blurts out, then grimaces.

Apparently she knows exactly who I am, since she was once hired to get some petty revenge on me for some ancient bullshit.

Looks like they just found a new way to work the job.

Harley cares about me. But apparently not enough to let old shit just die.

I'm a fucking idiot.

"Just stopped in to see Harley, but she wasn't here," I say vaguely.

She turns and stares at the doors, and the very short, one-story trip down is the longest, most uncomfortably silent elevator ride in the history of all elevator rides.

She practically sprints out the second the doors are open enough for her to fit her slender body through them. She doesn't slow down even as she hits the sidewalk and takes an abrupt right turn.

"That doesn't look guilty at all," I mutter.

"Harley wouldn't do this to you," Maverick says, even though he sounds uncertain now.

"Wouldn't use Britt to fuck with our family? Even after admitting she wanted revenge? It wouldn't take rocket science to figure out Britt is our weakest link and how devastated we'd all be if she was hurt. If she's going for the low blow, Britt is the most obvious target."

He bristles, his jaw going tight.

"Still doesn't sound right," he says like he's trying to convince himself as much as he's trying to convince me.

We get in the car, and I decide to tell him about the phone conversation I listened in on a few nights ago. He looks away, almost as though he feels as betrayed as I do.

"Maybe you should call her," he suggests, but it sounds more like he's biting back the demand on the tip of his tongue.

I call her, but she doesn't answer.

Just as I get into my car, she sends a text.



HARLEY: Working right now. Knee-deep in it. I'll call as soon as I'm out of my meeting.



I hand the phone to him as my blood starts to boil. He reads it as I grip my steering wheel harder than necessary.

Muttering under his breath, he tosses my phone aside like he's disgusted. 

Me? I'm not even sure how to feel.

But I do know she'll regret letting me simmer in my rage while she continues to lie.

With Fiona, I was embarrassed, but not heartbroken. I wasn't mad. I wasn't hurt. I wasn't even upset.

And she cheated on me, for fuck's sake. For months.

With Harley? I feel like someone just shoved a lit stick of dynamite into my heart.

I pity anyone stupid enough to be around when it finally explodes.

"I'm not really hungry anymore," Maverick says quietly.

Good thing I'm pulling up to Silk instead of a restaurant.

I need a really strong fucking drink.





Chapter 40



HARLEY



Staring into the cold, dead eyes of my father, I smile gleefully.

"You've been demanding to see me, father. Don't you think you should probably start talking at some point?" Flippant. Arrogant. Condescending. All of those describe my tone.

The same tone he's always used with me.

"You're going to sell my business back to me," he growls. "And you're going to walk away, or I will ruin you, Harley."

Ah, poor guy.

Cynthia walks in and takes her seat by his side, her eyes leveling me with a glare that used to make me feel so small. Now I wonder how it ever held any power over me.

"It hasn't been your business in years. Not since you made her the majority shareholder. Then allowed her to take the business public and start selling off shares. Probably should have kept more of those shares for yourself," I point out with that same thick condescension.

He grinds his jaw. She taps her toe. I smile broader.

This feels better than expected.

"This is not a game you want to play," he threatens.

A thrill ripples through me as I lean up. He was always impressed by chess. I never could beat the prick. Then one day, he decided to play with Jessie.

She beat him.

He praised her.

He never played with me again.

"I hit checkmate five moves ago, you just haven't realized it yet. There's no game left to be played, father. You're just moving your pieces around on a dead board."

Cynthia, prim and composed as ever, decides to interject her icy opinion.

"You really don't understand, Harley. We will destroy you. Family or not."

I snort indignantly, then snort again as I laugh. "Family?" The laughter continues to bubble out of me as they stare on with stone masks of indifference. "Wow. Family. I can't believe you even have the audacity to call me that."

She narrows her eyes. "A business like yours is in a fickle market. One wrong move, and you'll cease to be more than a blip on the radar in the ever growing technological industry."

"Gaming industry," I point out. "And you can't do anything and you know it. There's no way to sabotage me. Create a scandal? My sales go up. Make my sad, pathetic past known where I was a nobody, loser, loner chubby girl? My sales soar. Keep in mind that most of my fellow gamers were bullied for similar things. There's literally nothing you can do that won't make me more popular."

Her hands turn into fists. It didn't take a genius to know the threat of revealing my embarrassing past was on the table. She just failed to take into account that her target is in an industry where that sort of thing is more relatable than laughable.

Mean girls aren't spending too much time in sweats and elf ears, if you get my drift. The ones who are, well, they're just posers trying to hide their inner nerd from the cruel world who will mock them.



       
         
       
        

"I thought of going into the app business myself," Dad finally says, a cold smile on his lips. "It'd be real interesting to toss out some very unique game apps … some of which you might be keeping hushed. Let's say I get them out first, then you'd be a copycat with your knock-off version. Little by little, your business would suffer. Plenty of people to leak information there," he threatens.

Well, bully for him. I hadn't expected that to come out of his mouth.

"You could try … " I let the words trail off. "But I usually have a patent on my games before I even let the rest of the team in on the idea. Whether the idea is mine or one of my associates. It's always quiet until the patent. And then, we do really fast production work to guard against such things. It's not like I don't expect leaks to competitors. Hence the reason my turnover rate is ungodly fast. I'm the best for a reason. So good luck beating me in that game."