Chapter 20
Harry
My eyes shot to the clock on my desk for about the twentieth time today.
I was barely focused on my reports, but the conversation with Dom was still rolling around my mind for days.
And now he’d left. He’d actually left. After everything he’d said.
Cat told me last night, which meant I had to force myself to wade through all of his unread texts. Hundreds of words about how he loved me, what I meant to him, and how he couldn’t bear to be apart from me, all while feeling sick from his betrayal.
I had cleaned my desk multiple times, but it didn’t make a difference when I could still feel him there.
But it had nothing to do with me. He explained that his sisters needed him, and I couldn’t take that personally.
I’d met his sisters occasionally over the years. Dom was determined to keep me away from his parents as much as possible, and his parents refused to let his sisters visit him.
He had told me what his parents were like, everything he had been through, how much his sisters meant to him.
But it didn’t stop the childish sting of disappointment that he left so quickly. He didn’t say how long he was going for. And I definitely didn’t listen to his last message twice just to see if he’d said how long it would be until I saw him again.
Because I was furious with Dom.
I slowly closed my eyes, my jaw tight, clenching the pen in my hand as that familiar nausea found me, the pain in my heart beating steadily to the rhythm of the clock.
He betrayed me. Molly was coming home soon, and then what?
I knew it would be a struggle, not just because of what happened with Dom, but everything that had gone unresolved from our argument. But, after letting him suck my cock until I came and forcing me in his office, ‘resolved’ barely covered it.
My eyes flicked to the clock again.
I pushed my hair back from my face. Elbows on the desk, I pressed my palm into the centre of my forehead, as if I could squeeze out every awful memory that had gathered since Molly’s goodbye party.
I jumped as the intercom buzzed, letting out a deep sigh. 10AM. They were right on time.
“Mr Fischer, Lord and Darcy Hastings here for you.”
“Thank you, Anita. Send them in.”
I straightened the black binder in front of me, the one that Darcy had handed out in his presentation last week.
I was still reeling from everything that had happened, and I didn’t even know if I could talk to them both when chaos reigned inside me.
But I was the head of the Foundation, and I couldn’t show any weakness.
They both prowled toward the desk. Even at eighty, Lord Hastings still held his domineering air. But I wasn’t going to be cowed.
“Take a seat, please,” I said, waving my hand in front of me.
They both sat down, and I could tell from the looks on their faces that a plot had been brewing since the last time I saw them.
“A lovely day today, isn’t it?” I nodded to the windows on my left. Small talk was the worst kind of currency, yet it was what paid in the end. Thankfully, Lord Hastings had other things on his mind.
“We need to discuss something far more pressing than the weather.” He pierced his cane into the carpet between his spread legs, his wrinkled palms pressing down on the gold ball at the top.
“Oh?” I tilted my head. “Well. You received our bid, I assume. I thought that was why you were here?”
Darcy threw a smirk at his grandfather. “No, actually,” he said. “We’ve come to tell you that we will be eliminating The Fischer Foundation from the bidding.”
“Excuse me?”
Lord Hastings picked up the baton, his fingers twitching around his walking stick.
“It’s clear from the past three years that The Fischer Foundation is unstable.
Ironic, I know. But I’ve had a front row seat to the discord sown between you and Mallory.
And, frankly, we don’t feel confident in putting our project in your hands. ”
I took a moment to press my tongue against the top of my mouth, holding back my laughter. I should have expected it. It was another cost of letting myself be swept away by Dom and losing focus on what was important.
“Despite the track record we’ve had with other projects in the past two years?” I asked.
“Yes. Though your success is admirable, it’s been a considerable cause of concern within my family about the unsteadiness of your own. I don’t want our project to be part of some dispute that could cost precious time and money,” Hastings said with false concern.
I saw the glint in his eye, and I knew instantly what he was doing. He knew his worth, and how easy it would be to leverage more money from us. If we lost this Hastings deal, other donors would pull out of The Foundation.
I could have taken the bait and let him string me along. I had given up so much of myself to The Foundation. What was one more concession?
But Lord Hastings had chosen the worst day to confront me.
I leaned back in my chair, steepling my fingers. “Well, that is a shame,” I said. “I thought we would work well together, but it’s a good thing you have other charities willing to bid on your project.”
I caught the slight fall of Lord Hastings’s face just before he regained his composure, but Darcy didn’t hide his scowl. “What?” he snapped.
I raised a brow at his attitude. “I think you heard me perfectly. If you don’t want The Foundation to participate, then I completely understand.
We were willing to offer an extra two hundred and fifty million on top of your original asking price, but, obviously you care far more about the organisation of the project instead.
Which I highly respect. Trust should be at the forefront of any decision you make,” I said, keeping myself steady as I looked at them pointedly.
If they really thought I would be pushed into using more of The Foundation’s funds on them after their attitude, then they had sorely misjudged me. I wasn’t to be messed around with.
That was the reason I had made it to the Director position in the first place.
I waited them out as they both weighed up their options internally. I didn’t expect Darcy to hold himself back, and Lord Hastings got there first.
“Now, now, we can always talk about this.” He cut over Darcy before he could voice his outrage, lightly tapping Darcy’s forearm as a hint to keep his mouth shut.
“We simply feel it’s only right that you offer us more insurance if we are to go ahead with the Foundation’s sponsorship, given the situation.” He gave me a placid smile to finish.
“Oh, insurance, is it?” I asked, cocking a brow.
“How much did you have in mind? Because Darcy’s immaculately produced plan,” I placed my finger on top of the binder in front of me, “clearly outlined the costs and predicted time frame.” I looked at Darcy with a nod.
“I am very impressed by the way. You did a good job with this.”
“It would be of great benefit to you and The Foundation to sponsor us at our full worth. I would call it more of a generosity. To ease the project along,” Lord Hastings said, too patient for my liking.
“Ah, I see. Very well then,” I replied. “I’ll arrange for us to go through the official channels, as it seems like you’d rather handle this publicly. It will be interesting to see what the rest of the Board thinks when they hear of this. They were so supportive of the project as well.”
“Wait, hang on.” Darcy choked. “You can’t just—” But Lord Hastings tapped him again, and he backed down immediately.
I’d never seen Darcy do what someone told him to, even Lord Hastings. I had to wonder what he had hanging over his grandson’s head to force him to behave.
“Do let me know when the bidding starts,” I said. “We’ll have to try again once it opens up. Though, just to inform you, we’ll most likely be reducing our original offer, including the added bonus.”
There was a pause as my words sunk in. Lord Hastings restrained his anger, and his grip on Darcy’s arm kept him down like a good little boy.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Harry?” Lord Hastings said through gritted teeth. “You’ll regret going against me.”
“Noted,” I replied, twisting my lips. “I was under the impression that loyalty was something you valued in your business practices. I imagined that would translate into your charitable work as well.”
I had wrangled with those people for years, and had hoped that the vote would have made them settle. I didn’t know why I believed that it would change after I had won the vote.
“You’ve been friends with my family since before I was born,” I said, holding Lord Hastings’s glare with a steely gaze of my own, “and you’ve sat on the Board since the Foundation began, but I understand your need for greener pastures.
So, thank you for your time. I appreciate that you made the effort to come all the way to my office. ”
I rose, stepping around my desk. They watched me in shock as I stood in front of them. I folded my arms, looking down at them expectedly. Neither of them moved.
“Would you like me to show you out?” I said as I dropped his hand. “Since you’ve obviously forgotten your place.”
Lord Hastings flinched back, his eyes wide in surprise. It was rare that I ever spoke to anyone at work so frankly. Even Mum would have laughed at that one.
I’d booked half an hour for their meeting. I could stand there for as long as needed until Anita dragged them away.
Darcy’s scowl deepened as Lord Hastings pushed himself up on his cane. I reached out a hand. He took it, and we shook, as if we made a deal instead of me politely telling them to fuck off.
“Thank you both for your time,” I said as I moved to shake Darcy’s hand.
By the time the door slammed behind them, I was thoroughly exhausted and done with people.
I leaned back in my chair, stretching my legs out under my desk, trying to process yet another problem that had been piled onto it. I might have sent Hastings away, but I still had to do damage control, whatever form that came in.
Just when I thought I had a moment’s peace, my phone rang.
Lifting myself up, I locked onto it, praying that it was any other name but Dom’s.
I stared at it, knowing I had ten rings before it went to voicemail.
I had to be understanding. His sisters were in trouble. He had to go to them. If I was a good friend, I would have answered.
By that logic, he wouldn’t have used me like that.
But I couldn’t talk to him. Dom didn’t get to call me with some goodbye message like we’d just broken up. Even though we were never together in the first place. He hadn’t given us a chance.
With everything I knew about him, part of me suspected that he would have never tried, either because of how his previous relationships had gone, or because of his background.
And it was stupid of me to be touched that he didn’t want to hurt me, or empathise with him because he always believed he wasn’t good enough no matter how far he went in life after he had gone to such an extreme.
Even though it was the perfect time for him to call, when I actually needed support and someone to talk to, it didn’t mean I would answer.
I wouldn’t give in to that piece of me that wanted so badly to hear from him again just to remind myself that I hated him, so I wasn’t stuck with those images of his face as he left my office.
With each ring I drew in a breath. With each break, in the silence, I blew it out, a casual rhythm that eased me through it. By the time I was close to giving in and answering the call, it was on its last ring, and the heat of longing chewed away at me.
The phone stopped, the screen went black, and I sighed in relief.
Until it pinged again a minute later, showing the voicemail symbol, and I squeezed my eyes, just wishing I could rest.
I needed to focus on work, and not on that growing pit in my stomach that showed how much I dreaded the thought that I’d lost the one person who mattered more than anyone else in the world.