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Virgin Bride(57)

By:B. B. Hamel


I step up to his front door and knock twice. It takes a minute before a man answers the door, a big guy with hard eyes. He looks at me sideways.

“Who are you?” he asks me.

I smile at him. “Griffin McGrath,” I say.

Clearly that name doesn’t mean anything to him. “Are you expected?”

“No,” I say. “But tell Rick that I’m here. He’ll want to talk.”

The man grunts and shuts the door in my face. I sigh and smile to myself. That guy is clearly some kind of security and it’s interesting that he thinks he needs security guys.

A couple minutes later, the door opens again, but this time it’s not the security goons. This time, it’s Ward Fisher himself, the prodigal son.

He doesn’t look happy to see me. “Mr. McGrath,” he says. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“No, I don’t think you were,” I say.

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m here to discuss business with your father.”

“My father is indisposed. You’ll deal with me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Will I?”

Ward nods. He’s older than Erin, but he’s clearly not as bright. I think he takes after his father a little too much for his own good.

“Listen to me, Ward,” I say, stepping closer. “Tell your father he wants to cut a deal. Because Erin already offered to sell me her thirty percent for next to nothing. Imagine the bargaining power I’ll have when I already own thirty percent of your company.”

Ward’s eyes grow a little large. “Are you threatening me?”

I laugh. “I’m not threatening you, son. I’m pointing out the shitty position your father put you in. Now, go get him for me.”

Ward watches me for a second, clearly trying to figure out what to do. The boy is clearly too thick for his own good, but eventually he turns and heads back inside, shutting the door once again in my face.

I sigh but I don’t get impatient. A foyer is good enough for me. Truthfully, I don’t want to be invited into their house. I know keeping me out here is some kind of power play to them, but it really doesn’t matter. They can play all the games they want.

I have the real power in this situation.

Ten minutes pass slowly, but soon enough the door opens and Rick Fisher emerges. He looks dour and tired, his suit wrinkled and messy.

“Good to see you, Griffin,” he says, trying to muster his usual con artist’s charm.

“Rick,” I say, and neither of us moves to shake hands.

“What can I do for you?”

“Let’s skip the bullshit, okay?” I say to him. “You know why I’m here.”

He watches me and his eyes slowly narrow. He transforms from the affable salesman he pretends to be right into the snake that I know he actually is.

“Okay then, Griffin,” he says. “You married my fucking daughter and found out about the portion of my company that’s in her name.”

“That’s right,” I say. “Pretty shitty position for you.”

“What are you going to do about it?” he asks. “I offered you terms. You rejected them.”

“That’s because your terms were bullshit. But there’s one more thing I know.” I step toward him, eyes locked on his. “You sent Erin to spy on me. You want to try and destroy me by digging up my past, but that’s not going to work, not anymore.”

He doesn’t flinch or look away. “I assumed you knew.”

“I also know about James,” I hiss.

He stares at me for a second, and I think I’ve actually rattled him. “James is a dear friend,” he finally says.

“I used to say the same thing.” I smile at him sweetly. “So be careful about that.”

“What do you want, Griffin? It’s late.”

He’s right, it’s past six. I came straight here from the office after working all day.

“I want the original deal we wrote up months ago. The original contract we both nearly agreed to signing, before you tried all of this bullshit to weasel your way into a better deal.”

Rick looks at me for a second then sighs. “The Consortium is my baby,” he says. “Can you blame me for being hesitant to sell her?”

“I don’t care how you feel. Those are my terms.”

“You don’t dictate terms to me,” he snaps suddenly, eyes getting wide. “I’m Rick Fisher. I don’t fucking lose.”

I’m a little surprised at his outburst. He’s usually so composed.

“Apparently you don’t see yourself very accurately,” I say softly.

“Bastard.” He clenches his jaw. “I’m not giving you shit. Fuck you and fuck my little whore of a daughter.”