Mr. Perfect (Mister #1)(78)

“And then it was all about me again, right? Not only was I a rapist, now I was a murderer. I killed her. We all did. Somehow. Some way. No one knew how because the five of us were all accounted for the night she died, so you know, most people would say that excludes us. But we’re rich. We’re privileged. We work magic with money and buy people off. That’s how it’s done, right? We have power.

“Well, that’s true. I do have power. I have the power to do a lot of things, but clear my name wasn’t one of them. I do not have the power to change the public perception of me or my friends. I do not have the power to create genuine respect from people. I do not have the power to make people trust me.” I pause and look around. Meet hundreds of sets of eyes. It feels so good to be able to finally say this. And to these people especially. People who matter to me.

“But I do have the power to change the world. To make it less hateful, less angry, less difficult. And maybe if someone had helped that girl’s family out when she was younger she wouldn’t have fallen into the trap her co-conspirators laid. So I took my trust fund and set out to make a difference. I’ve been gone for ten years, but I haven’t been hiding. I’ve been changing the world one family at a time through my charity, Change the World. I can’t change anything big,” I say. “I can’t change governments, or stop wars, or prevent draught or famine. But I can take one family at a time and change their future.”

The whispers get louder and the confusion and tension eases out of the faces.

“Because I learned a very valuable lesson from the woman who falsely accused me of rape. I learned that something as small as a few words can have a profound impact on the future of five boys. And if words can do so much damage, then surely there are things equally as small that do so much good. A few dollars in Africa can feed a family for a week. Give out a million of those dollars to the right people and I just fed the population of a city.”

“Shit, Mac,” Ellie says with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

I shrug. “You didn’t know. No one knew. I didn’t want to do good deeds to be rewarded for them. I just wanted to do them to prove to myself that not everyone is bad. That I’m not the greedy kid they made me out to be. And when I found out that Alexander needed to retire to take care of his health, and he wanted me to come claim my fifty percent interest in the company and head up the North American branch while Heath took over the developing market in Asia and Camille ran Europe, well, I was reluctant. Why should I leave behind what I built for this? For people I don't know and, more importantly, people who might not need me as much as the ones I’m walking away from?”

I turn to the Stonewall employees. “I came here to sell it,” I say, raising my arms. “Just sell it off. I didn’t see the value. Not compared to the work I was doing. But I was wrong.” I turn to Ellie. “You, Ellie Hatcher, have value. You’re an exceptional employee. And I know you have big plans in your future, so I’m not going to ask you to stay. But I want you to know that I value you.

“I value all of you and if Alexander still wants me, I’m in. I’d be honored to help keep Stonewall Entertainment the number one corporation to work for. Not just America, but the world. I’d love for us to change the future together.”





Chapter Thirty-Three - Ellie





I am at a loss for words. My mouth opens, closes, then opens again. I feel like a fish gasping for air.

“Ellie?” Mac is staring at me with a worried look on his face. “Ellie? Are you OK?”

I look up. All the faces staring down at me. Stonewall Senior is up there. And Jennifer. And Stephanie and Mr. Sowards.

“Ellie? What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I shake my head as I let out a long breath. “I can’t.” I really can’t. So I just turn on my heel and walk out the building. Outside it’s bright, and the morning sun is beating down on the parking lot, making me instantly feel much too warm. I press a finger to my temple as I head for my car.

“Ellie!” Mac yells from behind me. “Wait!”

I can’t wait. I can’t deal. None of this makes any sense at all.

“Ellie,” Mac says. He grabs my arm hard enough to pull me to a stop. “Where are you going? Don’t you have anything to say? No comment? Not even a shrug?”

I stop because he makes me, but I don’t turn to look at him. I stare down at my feet. Study the small cracks in the concrete parking lot. Count a few stones.

“Goddammit, Ellie. What the hell is going on with you?”