More Than Hate You (More Than Words)

My grin turns into a laugh. “Sloan hasn’t heard anything from Wynam, either.”

Evan’s head pops up. “She told you that?”

Nia frowns. “No. She wouldn’t tell anyone that, especially him.”

“Exactly.”

But when I flash Nia the message string, she smiles, too. “Shaw is right. She doesn’t know anything.”

“Thank God,” Evan groans.

“She’s still speaking to you?” Nia remarks. “I’m shocked. And I know you; you’re plotting something.”

“Yep.” The right plan hasn’t occurred to me yet, and impatience scratches at my composure. I need to solve this ASAP.

Nia, Evan, and I wrap up the last of the week’s activities at the office an hour later, and I head home to an empty weekend. Sure, tourist bars always have hot girls in bikinis, trolling for a vacation fling. But I’m way more fixated on Sloan, on persuading her to come around.

After all, we may be rivals in business, but I stand by my certainty that we’ll be damn good together in bed.

After I finish a stir-fry dinner, my phone unexpectedly rings. I’m assuming it’s Evan. He’s the only person who calls, especially after business hours. But a glance at my display surprises me.

I lunge at the device. “Hey, baby. You calling to tell me to fuck off in that sweet voice of yours? I feel so special…”

She sighs deeply, not like she’s irritated with me but like she’s upset. “I’d like to, asshole. Believe me.”

“Oh, I do.”

“But I’m calling for an entirely different reason.”

Only something dire would make her reach out to me. I sober. “I’m listening.”

“I just digested our first-quarter financials. Shane is either insane, an addict with no impulse control, or intentionally trying to end the company his father spent his whole life building. He’s withdrawing every bit of profit, along with nearly half of our end-of-year budgets and capital funding for his personal use. He bought a yacht. He fired Karly and replaced her with a stripper named Destiny—I can’t believe I have to admit that—and doubled her salary.”

Holy shit. From an impartial perspective, Shane is so dumb it’s almost comical. But I hear the crack in Sloan’s voice, and I want to soothe her.

On the other hand, she divulged the fragility of their business to me. I’m surprised. She must know I could virtually destroy them with this information. And normally, I wouldn’t hesitate, but… “I’m sorry he’s such an irresponsible douche. You’ve worked your ass off and you deserve better.”

“I don’t care what you think, Sebastian. I just want you to fix it.”

“Me?” Is she kidding?

“Yeah. I reached out to Bruce Rawson—”

“You mean your father?”

“As a matter of biology, yes. But until he sees fit to acknowledge that fact, he’s merely the founder and CEO of the company I work for. So I sent him a list of the expenses Shane has approved and the ways in which he’s spending the funds.”

“Is he firing Shane?”

“No.” And she’s not happy. “Instead, he authorized me to oversee Jeremy so he can ‘take control of the company’s finances and set them right again.’”

The Jeremy she’s talking about isn’t my buddy, McBride, but me incognito. “You think I’m going to save Reservoir?”

“Yes. Let’s be honest; the real Jeremy McBride isn’t equipped for a job this in-depth.”

He’s not. He’s great at what he does. He’s got a reputation for analysis, redundant cost-cutting, efficient automation, and organizational restructuring for maximum savings. He doesn’t have experience in financially raising an organization from the dead. Sloan doesn’t, either.

Since she would rather gnaw her hand off than call me, I now know two things. First, Reservoir is likely a quarter or less away from folding. Second, winning her Daddy’s affection is more important to her than protecting her heart from me.