CHAPTER 18 DANNY
It was Alexis’s idea for me to confront her dad to see if I could fill in the gaps, and honestly, I don’t want to confront him. I’m pissed he announced my injury to the world. It was a dick move, and I already had to calm Brad down when he called me asking if it was true.
He wants me to hold a press conference.
I refuse.
First of all, I’m in Los Angeles. But on top of that, I don’t want to sit there while the media fires questions about how long I’m going to be out when I don’t have that estimate yet. Troy can field that one as soon as we have more answers, and that’s what I tell Brad.
Beyond that, I’m not really up for discussing the implications that come with a serious injury. I don’t want to get emotional about how I’m going to miss spring training for the first time in my career. I don’t want to feel the weight of missing the first few games after we just won the World Series.
But I do want answers from the man who decided it was his right to share my personal life and struggles with the media, and I head down to his study the next morning with the attitude that he owes me after what he did to me.
“Can I have a few minutes of your time?” I ask when I walk into the sprawling study.
He raises a brow and doesn’t really respond, but I take it as my green light, shutting the door behind me.
I walk in slowly and sit in the chair opposite him, the desk separating us. “We saw your statement. It wasn’t your right to announce our marriage nor my injury.” I keep the emotion out of my voice even though my fist keeps involuntarily clenching at my side.
“You told me to do what I had to do. That was what I had to do.” His tone is detached, too.
“You didn’t have to do it that way,” I point out. “And because you did, I think the least you could do is answer a few questions I have.”
He looks nearly impressed that I have the balls to come in here and fire questions at him, but he doesn’t respond.
I take that as my cue to plow forward. “Look, you already know I know the basics, so I just need you to fill in a few blanks for me. I might even be able to help you if I know what’s going on,” I say.
He leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest. “What do you want to know?”
“I want to know what investments you’re blaming on Brooks.”
“Venture capitalism.”
“Start-up companies?” I clarify.
He nods. “Brooks had friends with ideas. They were looking for seed funding from a limited partner to fund their startups. The good news is that I’m only out the money I invested, unlike general partners. But the bad news is that every single one of the startups he threw my way ultimately failed.”
“So…you spent all of Alexis’s money on startups with no guarantees?”
He shakes his head. “I reinvested a lot of money into Bodega Talent. It costs money to attract big-name clients.”
“Alexis being a client doesn’t sell your agency for you?”
“It doesn’t really work like that,” he says. “It doesn’t hurt us, but the rumors were already swirling that Alexis was unhappy at Bodega. And if the CEO’s own daughter is unhappy, that doesn’t bode well for someone unrelated.”
I’m surprised he’s being so candid. “So it was bad business practices combined with bad investments?”
He purses his lips as he nods. “It was the perfect storm. But if the merger went through with D-Three, I would’ve been set. Brooks would’ve paid back my losses for the bad investments, and I would’ve made bank out of the dividends. Double if I got her to marry him.”
“Right. But why did he want to marry her if he didn’t love her?” I ask.
“Marriage isn’t just about love, Daniel. It’s also a partnership, and it’s that partnership Brooks was after.”
My brows dip. “Like…a companion?” Brooks was just lonely this whole time? Hell, I’ve got plenty of women on speed dial who could’ve taken care of that.
“No, not a companion. A partnership. He stood to gain a shitload of benefits if he married her.”
“Financial?” I press.
“Well, yeah. Financial security is a big one. He’s not hurting there, though. So as her husband, he was also set to benefit in terms of social status and business credibility. And talk about networking opportunities…” He shakes his head a little.
“Thank you for your candor. But can I ask you one final question?”
He shrugs. He didn’t give me permission to ask the first few, yet he’s here giving me answers.
“Why did you agree to it?”
He grunts out a chuckle, but it’s almost maniacal in nature. “I saw the writing on the wall. I made bad investments. Ultimately that falls on me—whether or not he talked me into it, regardless of the reasons why I did it, I was the one signing off on those deals. It seemed like the only way to make her money back.”
“So how much of it is gone? All of it?” I can’t help as the question slips out.
“I believe you said the previous question was your last.”
I nod, and I stand. Before I leave, though, I say, “Why’d you answer me?”
He glances down at his desk before his eyes return to mine. “Apart from feeling a little guilty about the wrist, I think you might be my only remaining direct line to my daughter.”
I press my lips together and nod. So he fucked up, but at least he’s man enough to admit it. I want to ask if he’s stolen money from any of his other clients or just his daughter, but I leave it be.
For now.