“Baby, you have to give us more than this guy is a rat bastard.”
“Ian Robbins the third is the nephew of Mr. Redmond, who is the founder of my firm. Third saw an opportunity with his uncle’s successful Chicago law firm and started his financial and portfolio management company using the employees as his breeding ground. They encouraged us to put our investment money with him. Third knew his place enough to know where his bread was buttered. He didn’t go after anyone that made less than one-fifty a year.”
“Fuck me,” Evin sneers, and Miller visibly straightens, his earlier amusement fading quickly.
“As an ‘up and comer’, and groomed to be partner, I was heavily persuaded to go with Third with my additional investments. I met with Ian and knew he was a dweeb. Since I was at the lower end of the money train, he didn’t blink, just assigned me to a different advisor. My fourth year at the firm, Third got wind of my success and suddenly I was his shiny toy.”
A low, back of the throat rumble rolls through the room, and Miller’s expression has turned to stone. “You’re not a toy,” he grinds out.
“Of course not! But I played nice, acted according to our corporate cultured environment, and tolerated him when forced to socialize. He eventually got his hands on my account when my advisor ‘found a better opportunity’. Which was total bullshit because I ran into the advisor a year later at an event, and he let it slip they ushered him out the door with a generous severance after making him sign a two-year non-disclosure. This helped fuel my dislike of Ian Robbins the third.” I practically spit the name. “As my new consultant, he insisted on a quarterly meeting where he tried to take my funds into higher-risk investments, which I constantly declined. Then he made his move on me.”
I don’t know how it’s possible, but Miller grows even steelier, his eyes now blazing infernos of jealousy.
“Oh, please! Reel in the macho. He didn’t have a chance. Sure, some women may find him attractive, if you like the slicked-back hair, doused in cologne, steal from-your-own-mother type of guy. Not me. I mean, look at you.” I wave my hand, gesturing to him. “Not one iota of interest in that loser. And if I didn’t have my senses about me, the day he fell off the Peleton would have sealed the deal.”
“He fell off a Peleton? Like the bike?” Evin scrunches his eyebrows. “How does that even happen?”
“Over-inflated ego mixed with zero grace, but that’s beside the point.”
“Let’s get back to the point. He’s disputing your transfer with a serious allegation.”
I rip the printout from the floor and read it again, fueling my fury further.
… It is my fear that Ashlyn is unstable and not of sound mind at this time. Her rapid and unexplained exit from her professional position came as an immense surprise. Many of her colleagues and friends are concerned she pushed herself too hard and is suffering from burnout. She is a valued and deeply cared for client of this firm. Personally, Ashlyn and I have built a treasured relationship outside of my financial obligations to her accounts.
It is my greatest fear that someone has gotten to Ashlyn, discovered her assets, and preyed on her vulnerabilities at a shaky time in her life. Therefore, I can’t ethically abide by the normal transfer protocols. My suggestion to schedule a meeting with you and Ashlyn stands. I think she may feel more comfortable with a familiar and trusted person in her corner during this challenging time.
The email goes on, but my brain threatens to explode if I read through it again. “He’s such a lying waste of space. I am not unstable, vulnerable, nor suffering from burnout.”
“Why would he use it as his foundation?”
“Because I may have gone out quietly, but it doesn’t mean my departure didn’t cause a shake-up. My guess is, until Ian received this transfer request, no one knew I was in Charleston. I cut everyone out. He doesn’t give a shit about coming here out of the goodness of his heart. My guess, he’s the first link to where I am. He not only wants to keep my money; he probably has been instructed to convince me to return.”
Miller, whose fury seemed to thin, goes back to monster mode. “What the ever-loving fuck? That will not happen.”
“Obviously.” I shoot him a curt glare. Even with the tension high and his mood rolling off him in waves, his eyes flash in a recognizable, sexy way.
“And since my brain is betraying my quest for privacy and is in the sharing mood, you two get more. The day I resigned, I got in my car and disappeared to anyone associated with my firm. Before that, it took months of careful planning to fulfill my legal obligations to my clients. I worked my ass to the bones with the premise of taking a month-long vacation. Upper management did not like this plan, but since I had the time and was burning through my workload like a madwoman, they had to accept. In my position, I couldn’t vanish off the radar completely. While I was decimating my old life and buying my house here, I was accessible when needed. They had no clue, thinking it was my duty to work on vacation. They also didn’t know my calendar was stuffed with phony appointments and meetings. I resigned effective immediately, dropped my phone and computer on my desk, and left Chicago behind.”