Treasured by Thursday(80)
“Your father was once a successful businessman, right?”
“He was. He didn’t get rich, but he managed. My mother thought he was better off than he was. Insisted on fancy schools . . . which is where I met Blake.”
“And Gwen.”
“Blake didn’t let any of us around his sister. He was known to break the noses of her dates. Noah took an interest, and that’s about the time I ducked out of their lives. Last thing I wanted was Blake mistaking him for me.”
“How is it I didn’t know this?”
“Noah backed off quickly. Our mother left and took most of my father’s money with her. I saw an instant decline in my father’s will to move forward. Noah took our dad’s depression and worked it to get whatever he wanted.”
“And you held up the pieces.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I made my own way. I’d been accepted into the colleges I wanted. I moved, learned after three semesters that I didn’t need a degree to run a successful business.”
“Wait . . . I saw a degree in your portfolio.”
“Honorary. They hand them out like candy if you write a big enough check.”
“That’s crazy. So you dropped out of college and set the world on fire . . . burning bridges along the way.”
“Making money, not friends, was my goal.”
“Mission accomplished.”
He moved back to the bed and sat. “Christmas was my sacrifice.”
She fought the frown on her face. The ache in her chest for those missed holidays tightened. “I guess we’ll simply have to make this year all the better.”
Hunter reached out and played with a lock of her hair. “If you want to spend it with your family—”
She caught his hand. “I don’t know where we will spend Christmas . . . but I don’t see any reason why we can’t be together.”
“Unless I screw up between now and then.”
“Then don’t screw up.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“Try.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hunter sat across from Frank Adams and his squad of lawyers. Travis and Hunter’s team sat beside him. The meeting was a formality. In truth, the contracts could be signed with each of them in their respective states. But they agreed face-to-face was better. Hunter hedged on the final agreement, giving Frank a larger cut and enough say in the oil sections to prevent a hostile takeover . . . which had been part of the long-term plan. So long as Frank didn’t bankrupt Hunter’s efforts, they could comingle.
He couldn’t help but wonder if marriage had made him soft. He wouldn’t have agreed to a larger cut a year ago.
“Are we ready to do this?” Frank asked.
“My t’s are crossed if yours are.” Hunter reached out a hand and Travis placed a pen into it.
His lawyer opened each page, told Hunter where to initial and sign before turning the document over to Frank. The signing took thirty minutes to complete before both of them stood and shook hands over the table.
“I hope you have time for a liquid lunch,” Frank proposed.
Hunter agreed with a nod. “One martini. I told Gabi I’d be home for dinner.”
“Has you trained already, does she?”
“You’ve met my wife, Frank. It’s not a hardship.”
Frank patted him on the back as they left the lawyers and associates in the conference room.
“I’m surprised,” Frank said over his martini. “Minnie insisted you’d give a little more, and I was convinced you were stuck on the original offer.”
“I was stuck on the original offer,” Hunter admitted. “I even considered pulling the deal.”
“What stopped you?”
He’d asked himself that question a lot. The answer was simple. “Marriage.” And family . . . Hayden, a figure who had yet to make his way into his life. “I want to work smarter, Frank. This merger, if managed properly, is going to make us very wealthy men.”
“You’re already wealthy.”
Hunter offered half a smile. “Can you ever have enough?”
Frank sucked back his drink, waved to the bartender for another. “I don’t know. I’ll tell you when I get there.”
“We don’t have to make a decision now, but I’d like to open offices here. A location dedicated solely to this project.”
“You’re considering relocating?” Frank asked.
“No. I’ll oversee my operation from LA. I’d place a point man, one I trust, on this end. There’s going to be a lot of activity in the beginning . . . probably for the next five to ten years. Flying back and forth—”