On My Knees (Stark International Trilogy 2) - Page 73/104

“You’d end up paying him damages.”

“Or I let him do the movie and he drops the case.”

“Asshole.”

“I agree. Of course, I had Charles relay that I’ll pay the damages. I can’t predict what they’ll be, of course, but my bank account is doing fine. And I’m not one to bend over to blackmail.”

I shudder. “It’s all such a mess.”

“There’s some good news, at least. Charles told me that Ollie is working hard with Cass. He thinks it’s a good business for franchising and she’s asking all the right questions. Doing her homework. Playing it safe even while making the leap.”

“That is good news.”

He tells me more about who he’s chatted with as we continue down the stone path. We’ve gone quite far before I realize that Jackson is supposed to be working this function. When I call him out for slacking off, he just laughs.

“I still have a few minutes of my free hour. Plus, I’m on my way to my next job.”

“Which is?”

He gives me a flat-eyed stare. “Apparently, I get to be my brother.”

I’m baffled until we arrive at the portable sport court that has been set up as a small tennis court. Damien is there, hitting a ball back and forth over the net with a boy who looks to be about eight.

He sees us and waves, then calls over one of the volunteers to take over for him. He says a few words to the kid, then joins us.

“Thanks for doing this,” Damien says. “I think you’ll enjoy it. The kids get so excited when they hit the ball.”

“So do I,” Jackson says dryly. “Trust me when I say that tennis skill doesn’t run in the family.”

“You’ll do fine.” Damien takes a step back toward the court. “Come on.”

“One second, okay?”

Damien eyes him, then nods. “What’s on your mind?”

Jackson nods toward me. “Sylvia and I had dinner yesterday with Reggie Gale.” He draws a deep breath. “I owe you an apology.”

“Do you?”

“I blamed you for Atlanta. Turns out I should be thanking you.”

“I made a business decision,” Damien says, still in pure business-mode. “Nothing more.”

Jackson studies him for a moment. “All right.” He starts to move toward the court. “Ready?”

“Wait.”

Jackson stops. I stand perfectly still, feeling a lot like an intruder, but I’m afraid if I leave, I’ll disturb whatever is happening between these two men.

“I want to show you something.” Damien pulls out his phone, finds something on it, then passes the device to Jackson.

Jackson reads, then frowns. “The press is lambasting you about cave crickets?”

“An internal email was leaked this morning,” Damien says, which is something I hadn’t yet heard. “In it, I said that we weren’t going to shut Cortez down because of a species of crickets that the EPA says is protected.”

“And somehow the press got your email.”

“And they’re taking it out of context. The discussion was with my staff and the goal was to research whether or not the species really is endangered. It isn’t.”

Jackson passes the phone back to Damien. “Why are you showing me this?” It’s the same question I have—especially since the EPA has already told me that we’re now in the clear and that Cortez is on track.

“The cave cricket issue has been resolved. But the release of this email doesn’t look good for the resort. And the timing of this new round of sabotage so soon after your return to the project is very telling.”

I watch Jackson’s posture go rigid. And my stomach does a few flips of its own.

“What exactly are you saying, Stark?”

“I’m saying that someone is fucking with us. With both of us.”

For a moment, Jackson doesn’t react at all. His face is as unreadable as Damien’s during a board meeting. Then finally, cautiously, he says, “You don’t think it’s me.”

“I did,” Damien admits. “I don’t anymore. But I do think the timing is key.”

“So who’s doing it? Jeremiah?”

“He’s definitely at the top of my list.”

Jackson shakes his head. “I don’t believe it.”

“Then don’t believe it. But you need to know something. Whether or not Jeremiah Stark is behind the sabotage, he’s not a good guy. He’s not a victim. He’s a manipulative narcissist. The sooner you realize that, the better.”

“What is it you think?” Jackson asks. “That I’m wearing rose-colored glasses? I know damn well that Jeremiah’s not an innocent man.”