Caleb gives me a sardonic grin. “Trifling issues.”
We both laugh, and damn, it feels good. Because for the first time, it feels like the problems Caleb is facing aren’t a barrier between us, but something drawing us closer together. Like we’re partners in this. Finally.
“But what are you going to do?” I venture. “Olivia has scheduled the shareholder meeting, hasn’t she? To vote on the takeover.”
Caleb lets out a sigh. “She has. And I’m sure she and Sebastian Wolfe are doing their best to woo the rest of the board, turning them against me with the stories about my theft.”
“Only because nobody knows about Nero’s blackmail,” I point out. “If you told them how your father was partners with Roman Barretti—”
“It’s not an option.” Caleb cuts me off. “Revealing that Sterling Cross was built on a partnership with a dangerous criminal? It would be front-page news. Roman’s in jail for financial crimes, but everyone knows that’s not half of what he’s done. My father’s name would be ruined. My name.”
“Your father is dead,” I say gently. “And the Sterling name is being dragged through the mud, the longer you try to hide the truth. The public already thinks you’ve been involved in something shady—Olivia made sure of that. They just don’t know what it is. Maybe instead of trying to hide it, you should just come clean.”
He shakes his head. “They wouldn’t understand. And the liability… How do I know the feds won’t seize the company, for being mixed up in Barretti business? I can’t risk it.”
“So why not find out?” I suggest. “Talk to some lawyers, figure out the consequences. The real ones,” I add, “not just the worst-case scenario. Surely Jonathan would know,” I add, naming his buddy, the lawyer who bailed him out when Olivia first started making accusations. “Have you asked him?”
Caleb shakes his head again. “I didn’t want to put him at risk.”
“Well, hopefully you’ve learned by now it’s better to open up rather than shoulder the burden alone,” I tell him. “One conversation. What could it hurt?”
* * *
Two hours later,we’re sitting in Jonathan’s midtown office, and Caleb is telling him everything.
“So, here we are,” he finishes. “We think Nero was behind the crash, but either way, he expects another payment. I’ve maxed out my personal funds, I can’t pay him without screwing the company, and meanwhile, Olivia and Seb Wolfe are ready to strike. I don’t know what to do.”
Jonathan sits back in his executive chair, looking shell-shocked. “Jesus,” he says, taking off his glasses and polishing the lenses. “And this has been going on for how long? When were you going to tell me about this?”
Caleb doesn’t say a word, but the answer hangs in the silence: Never.
“Can you help?” I speak up.
Jonathan laces his fingers together. “I’m not sure… If Nero can produce original contracts for the deal his father struck with yours, he may be entitled to something from the company…”
“My father settled the debt.” Caleb says in a clipped voice. “He wanted out, and he paid the price. For all we know, the Barrettis organized the plane crash that killed my parents.”
“So, contracts aren’t really the issue here,” Jonathan agrees quickly.
“What about the police?” I suggest.
Jonathan opens his mouth, I think to agree with me, but Caleb’s voice is rough. “No police. It’ll be a PR nightmare. And I know you think that isn’t worth the cost,” he adds, turning to me. “But this is my family name. If there’s any chance at all I can protect it—protect the company—I have to try. Anything that weakens me publicly, weakens Sterling Cross, it’s just setting the stage for Seb Wolfe’s hostile takeover. If he gets his way, I’ll be left with nothing. No honor, no reputation, no legacy to pass on… I can’t let that happen.”
“It won’t,” I vow, reaching over and squeezing his hand. “We’ll find a way. Won’t we, Jonathan?”
“We’ll sure as hell try,” he says cheerfully. “Let me look into a few things, and I’ll get back to you.”
“What should we do in the meantime?” I ask, as we get up to leave.
“Just carry on as normal.”
Caleb lets out a laugh. “Normal?”
I know what he means, because none of this feels normal.
Jonathan grins. “Yeah. Do the rich playboy thing you always do, don’t let anyone see you’re rattled. Until we come up with a game plan, it’s all about keeping up appearances. The more public, the better.”
Caleb frowns. “I have tickets to the Met tonight, but—”