9. McCarthy
MCCARTHY
“ O h my god,” Jenna moans as she drives across town to the Rainier Investment tower. “What a disaster.”
“Yeah, my brother’s going to be pissed. Looks like the end of the road for you, Jenna. I hope you took my advice and began searching for other jobs, because you’re not working for me anymore.”
It had taken only two days to get rid of her.
Only? I should immediately have had her running away screaming like that one dough-handed man Prism had sent over last week.
I’m losing my touch.
But a win is a win.
“Oh my god.” She’s hyperventilating. “I’m going to lose my job.”
“That ten-step plan isn’t panning out, is it?” I needle her. “My brother is not going to be amused when he finds out how much money you cost him. Not to mention…” I flip Salinger’s credit card in my hand. “The sheer amount of food and alcohol you put on Salinger’s credit card.”
That almost makes Jenna plow into the back of a mom van.
“ You— ”
“We’re probably going to sue Prism. You’re going to be blacklisted in the industry. No one in this city will hire you.”
I search the mirror. Her pupils are blown open. Like she’s putting all her efforts into not crying.
I can break anyone.
She parks in the garage at Rainer Investment, so frazzled that she scrapes the side of my brother’s car.
“ Crap. ”
“Yeah, I don’t think your boss is going to like this,” I say as she carries all her crap out of the car.
“Bethany’s here?”
“Maybe.” I draw the word out and shrug, letting her stew in anxiety in the elevator.
“How did I screw this up?” she moans.
“It’s a mystery, isn’t it?”
“I’m good at my job.”
“I beg to differ.”
Carrying her bags of stuff, she follows me as I make my victory parade to the glass-enclosed conference room, where several of my brothers are waiting—including Crawford.
While the rest of my full-blooded brothers are all wearing suits, my older half brother is in his heavy black canvas pants and leather bomber jacket, his booted feet up on Salinger’s pristine Brazilian-hardwood conference table .
My older brother’s scowl at Crawford turns downright murderous when he sees me.
“You really should have called me earlier,” Crawford drawls to Salinger. “He’s out of control.”
“Me?” I gesture to Jenna, who’s blinking back tears, her brown eyes shiny, her nose red. “She tanked my company.”
“ You just lost a fight on Redwood Avenue.”
“Why does everyone think I lost? This is not what losing looks like.”
“I told you that you needed security.” Jenna, though teary-eyed, is clearly not going down without a fight.
Perfect. I love it when they struggle on the hook. Makes it fun.
“I’m so sorry, Salinger.” Jenna sniffles. “I’ll be putting in my resignation notice, and I’m sure the CEO of Prism PR consulting will do whatever is in his power to make it right, including paying you back for the dinner.”
She digs in my pocket.
“Hey! You see what you subjected me to?” I ask my brother.
Jenna hands Salinger his credit card. He accepts it wordlessly
“What? I thought you weren’t letting anyone use your credit cards,” Faulkner complains.
“Shut up, Faulkner. There’s nothing you can do to make it right, Cupcake.
” I lean forward into her personal space.
“This is even worse than when you got engaged to the loser parade. This is a monumental fuckup, Cupcake. You let everyone down—your clients, your boss, your coworkers, yourself, Nathan. Truman. ” I’m digging the knife in at this point.
Some might say it’s cruel .
I say that’s the point.
“I really didn’t mean to. I don’t know what happened.” She clutches Truman in his pink quilted bag to her chest, her shoulders heaving from the effort to hold back tears.
Crawford looks mildly alarmed. I’m unmoved, not even when she starts crying, sobbing, really.
“Embarrassing.”
“McCarthy, you made her cry.” Fitz is shocked.
“So? Who cares? I’m the victim here. She’s the one who screwed up. She’s manipulating you.”
Faulkner hurries to hand Jenna a box of Kleenex.
“Since when are you moved by female tears? Let her sit in her failure; that’s the only way she’ll learn.” I sprawl in the chair across from my little brother.
“Now,” I say to Salinger. “I’m going to need fifty million dollars to prop up the hole Jenna blew in my company this morning.”
“Fifty million dollars?” Jenna wails. “This is horrible.”
Crawford stands up to help her into a chair.
“Don’t waste your tears on him. He’s a spoiled little rich boy.” My brother narrows his eyes at me.
“I grew up in the same cult you did.”
“I don’t know why”—Crawford addresses Salinger—“you’re even bothering to try and fix this.” He motions to me. “You should just put a bullet in his head and be done with it. Give RDC to Faulkner. He’s nuts enough to run a defense company.”
“You can’t run my company without me. The ship needs a steady hand to steer through the wreckage that Jenna caused.”
Truman’s licking her teary face .
“Please,” Salinger finally says, crossing his arms. “You were orchestrating a stock buyback as soon as you saw her plan. You wanted your stock to go down temporarily so that you could profit. If I thought it would make you clean up your act, I’d call the feds on you myself so they could nail you to the wall for insider trading. ”
“I did this for all of us. Isaac needs new shoes. He can’t keep wearing Faulkner’s hand-me-downs.”
“ You did what? ”
The hair on the back of my neck stands up.
Jenna’s tear-streaked makeup makes her look crazy enough that I pause for a moment then soldier on.
“You see, Cupcake? I’m always three steps ahead of you. That’s why I’m me and you’re still pandering to your stalker exes.”
“Stop calling me ‘Cupcake.’”
“Sounds less derogatory than ‘doughnut hole.’”
The smirk I flash her lets her know I know exactly how that could be interpreted.
That smirk disappears when she hauls back and beams that oversized mug, complete with all its noisy accessories, right at my head.
“Hey! Call the police. That’s assault.”
“No, this is assault.”
I grunt as Crawford’s fist connects with my ribs.
“Fuck.” I collapse on the floor. Truman jumps down to lick my face.
“Get off,” I wheeze. “Jenna, your dog.”
“Yeah, dogs do seem to have a taste for human shit.” She scowls.
My brothers snicker .
Crawford leans over the table to address Jenna. “Ignore him. His mother didn't wait long enough between pregnancies. He was cooked in the womb wrong. Straight-up incompetence turducken. He's her fourth, so his brain didn't get enough nutrients.”
“He seems pretty healthy to me.” Her lips thin, and her nostrils flare.
“Don’t waste your time on him. He’s basically still a virgin.”
“No, I’m not!” I shout.
Faulkner is snickering.
“Us blue-collar guys appreciate girls like you. I like a woman who knows the value of real work.” Crawford winks. “And I’m good with my hands.”
Jenna is blushing when I haul myself into my chair.
“Crawford, fuck off. Jenna, you need to read those books I bought you. Don’t date military, cops, or paramedics.”
“I’m actually already taken.” Jenna holds up her hand.
Crawford’s smile is smoldering and predatory. I know how women just melt for him.
“Someone’s jealous!” Fitz says in a singsong.
“Why should I even care that he wants Jenna, who snorts cupcake sprinkles? She’s not the kind of girl I’d date.”
“Then maybe I’ll take her from you.”
“The fuck you will.”
“I thought you didn’t like me,” Jenna says mockingly.
“I don’t, but Crawford? He’s old. He’s ancient. He’s thirty-something. I can barely remember all their names, let alone ages.”
“Aged like fine wine.” There’s another smoldering smile from Crawford .
“Aww, did I hurt your feelings, McCarthy? You’re cute when you keep your pretty mouth shut.” She chucks me under the chin.
I slap her hand away.
“Don’t be like that. I’d have a threesome with you and your brother.” Jenna blows me a kiss.
I suck in a breath.
Crawford doubles over laughing. Even Salinger smirks at me.
I grab the collar of her blouse. “We grew up in a cult in the desert, Cupcake, so be careful what you wish for.” I lower my voice. “Don’t try to intimidate me; it’s cute but ineffective.”
She purses her mouth thoughtfully, one manicured finger tapping her lower lip, the polish the same shade as the lipstick on her mouth. “I don’t know. You’re breathing awfully loudly.”
I draw back, shaking my head.
“He is breathing loudly,” Hawthorne drawls. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but…”
“If you weren’t getting fired, then it might be interesting to experience you with the gloves off, Cupcake.”
“Oh,” Salinger says, ice in his voice. “She’s not fired.”
“But she resigned. Just now. So tell her to leave.”
“You think I don’t know that you have been maneuvering against her at every turn?”
“All right, Mr. Game of Thrones .”
“You know”—Crawford gives me a pointed look—“if you’d spent half as much effort actually trying to pretend to be a decent human being instead of fighting against the consultant, you’d have gotten through most of the ten-step plan. ”
“Fuck the ten-step plan.”
“You’re out of chances, McCarthy,” Salinger snarls, slamming his hand down on the table. “Follow the goddamn plan.”
“You think this is a win?” I sneer at Jenna as I follow her noisy high heels through the dim parking garage. “You think that my brother has ever been able to make me do what he wants? You think anyone can make me do something I don’t want to? You think you’re going to be the one to tame me?”
Jenna whirls around.
“I don’t want to tame you, McCarthy. I don’t give a shit about you or your reputation or your company. You’re a paycheck and not a very big one. I don’t get a bonus. I just want to clock in and clock out, close out the contract, then forget you ever existed.”
We stare at each other for a moment.
“That’s not very professional.”
She ignores the dig. “In light of new information, I will be making some revisions to the plan, then we will restart this tomorrow morning. It would be in your best interest to act like an adult man who has a company and employees that rely on him, instead of like a toddler. Now you can give your opinion as a CEO on the plan, or I can use my professional judgment.”
She’s glaring up at me, feet apart in a fighter’s stance.
I make a dismissive noise. “I’m going to make sure you get fired.”
“Hasn’t worked so far.”