People died mining conflict diamonds. Children were exploited, beaten, starved, worked nearly to death. No amount of extra profit was worth propagating such blatant human rights violations. No amount of money was worth the stain dealing in conflict diamonds would leave on his soul.
"Marc's making sense. It's what they'll argue," Hollister said, and though it was obvious by his tone that he disagreed, Nic could tell his ready agreement bothered Marc.
Not that Nic blamed Hollister. This was more than a company to them, more than profits and bottom lines. More even than diamonds. Their great-grandfather had started Bijoux in the early twentieth century and it had been run by a Durand ever since.
When Nic and Marc took it over, they'd had to act fast to repair the damage their father had done through years of neglect and disinterest. It wasn't that he'd wanted to run the company into the ground, but he'd always been more interested in the adventures-and the women-the Durand money could buy rather than the day-to-day work of being CEO.
Which was why Nic and his brother had worked so hard to rebuild things. For years, they'd put their lives into this company and in a decade had managed to take Bijoux from a floundering behemoth into the second-largest diamond distributor in the world. They'd brought it into the twenty-first century and had created a business model that would help those who couldn't help themselves and that wouldn't exploit those who needed protection most.
"I don't care what you have to do," Marc told Hollister after a long pause. "I want that story stopped. We've worked too hard to build this company into what it is to have another setback-especially one like this. The jewel theft six years ago hurt our reputation and nearly bankrupted us. This will destroy everything Nic and I have been trying to do. You know as well as I do, even if we prove the accusations false in court, the stigma will still be attached. Even if we get the Los Angeles Times to print a retraction, it won't matter. The damage will have already been done. I'm not having it. Not this time. Not about something like this."
His words echoed Nic's thoughts from earlier, and the similarity was eerie enough to make the situation really sink in. From the moment he'd heard about the article, he'd been operating under the assumption that they would find a way to stop it. But what if they didn't? What if it actually got printed? What if everything they'd worked so hard for actually went up in smoke?
What would they do then?
What would he do then?
Marc must have been thinking along the same lines, because there was a renewed urgency in his voice when he told Hollister, "Call the editor. Tell him the story is blatant bullshit and if he runs it I will sue their asses and tie them up in court for years to come. By the time I'm done, they won't have a computer to their name let alone a press to run the paper on."
"I'll do my best, but-"
"Do better than your best. Do whatever it takes to make it happen. If you have to, remind them that they can't afford to go against Bijoux in today's precarious print-media market. If they think they're going to do billions of dollars of damage to this company with a blatantly false story based on a source they won't reveal, and that I won't retaliate, then they are bigger fools than I'm already giving them credit for. You can assure them that if they don't provide me with definitive proof as to the truth of their claims, then I will make it my life's work to destroy everyone and everything involved in this story. And when you tell them that, make sure they understand I don't make idle threats."
"I'll lay it out for them. But Marc," Hollister cautioned, "if you're wrong and you've antagonized the largest newspaper on the West Coast-"
"I'm not wrong. We don't deal in blood diamonds. We will never deal in blood diamonds, and anyone who says differently is a damn liar."
"I already made those threats to the managing editor," Nic said after everyone absorbed Marc's words. "And while I agree they'll sound better coming from our lead counsel, we need to do more than threaten them. We need to prove to them that they're wrong."
"And how exactly are we going to do that?" Lisa asked. "If we don't know who they're getting information from, or even what that information is, how can we contradict them?"
"By hiring an expert in conflict diamonds." Hollister had obviously gotten with the program. "By taking him up to Canada where we get our stock, letting him examine the mines we pull from. And then bringing him back here and giving him access to anything and everything he wants. We don't have any secrets-at least not of the blood-diamond variety. So let's prove that."
"Yes, but getting an expert of that caliber on board could take weeks," Lisa protested. "There are barely a dozen people in the world with the credentials to sign off unquestioningly on our diamonds. Even if we pay twice the going rate, there's no guarantee that one of them will be available."
"But one is available." Nic glanced at his brother when he said it, knowing very well that Marc would not appreciate his suggestion. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and he would do anything-anything-to stop this from happening. Including dig up his brother's very painful past. "She lives right here in San Diego and teaches at GIA. She could totally do it."
Marc knew whom Nic was talking about, and he didn't take the suggestion well. Big shock there. Nic waited for him to say something, but when Marc did nothing but stand there silently, Nic couldn't help goading him. "Dude, you look like you swallowed a bug."
"I can't call Isa, Nic. She'd laugh in my face. Or she'd deliberately sabotage us just to get back at me. There's no way I can ask her to do this."
Nic rolled his eyes. "Weren't you the one saying we can't afford to screw around with this? Isa's here, she has the experience, and if you pay her well and get a sub to carry her classes, she's probably available. It doesn't get much better than that."
"You should give her a call," Hollister urged.
"Yeah, absolutely," agreed Lisa. "I'd forgotten about Isabella Moreno being here in San Diego. I've met her a few times and she's really lovely-we should totally get her. I can try to talk to her, if you'd like."
"No," Marc told Lisa harshly, after a few uncomfortable seconds passed. "I'll take care of getting her on board."
He didn't sound happy about it, but he looked resigned. And wary. Which was good enough for Nic. His brother was an arrogant bastard, but Bijoux meant everything to him. He'd get Isa on board, even if it meant he had to crawl to do it.
In the meantime, Nic would meet with Ollie and scour the article that should be in his inbox by now. If the worst case happened and this thing actually went to print, he wanted to be ready with the best damage control the industry had ever seen.
Seven
The next few days were excruciatingly slow as Nic waited for Isa's findings. He was sure Marc felt the same torture, but at least his brother was out in the world, actively working to save their company. He'd taken Isabella to Canada and now he was here, in the building with her, checking out their diamonds. Proving, unequivocally, once and for all, that whoever had given the Times its information had been wrong. All Nic was doing was sitting here, feeling as if he was fighting with both hands tied behind his back.
It wasn't a good feeling.
But then, how could it be when everything he'd worked for, everything Marc had worked for, could go up in smoke any minute? Simply because someone with a grudge had lied about them. Simply because some reporter had said so. It was infuriating.
Nic and Ollie had put together a damn good plan for damage control over the past seventy-two hours, but Nic really hoped they'd never have to use it. Hollister had managed to get the article pushed back a few days, though not canceled, and now the only thing left to do was wait.
Wait for Isa to certify their diamonds as conflict-free.
Wait for the Times to decide what it would do about the article.
Wait for security to comb through the company files and find out the identity of the source.
Too bad he hated waiting with the passion of a thousand burning suns.
Yet, it seemed as if it was all he'd been doing lately. Even before this whole thing started. Ever since Nic had met Desi, really. He'd texted her a few times right after they'd been together, but she'd never responded. He'd dropped down to once a week after that because he hadn't wanted to harass her. He'd just wanted … her. If he hadn't, he would have given up after the second day.