Chapter 53
53
Cat
“ Y ou got this,” Theo tells me. He checks the shoulders of my suit before pressing a kiss to my lips. “Don’t be nervous.”
“Do I look nervous?” I try to smile, but it gets stuck in a grimace.
His eyes go wide, but he quickly wipes his expression. “Little bit. Just remember, you’re doing the right thing.”
I take a deep breath and knock on the door. I don’t wait for a response before I open it. Show ownership, Theo said when we practiced. Don’t let them control the space. Celia Drake is sitting at the table, flicking through her phone, notebook at her side.
“Ms. Drake,” I say. Her blond head pops up, and she stands, sleek bob swinging above her tasteful gray blouse.
“Catherine Peterson,” I say as we shake hands. “Thank you for joining me today.”
“This is highly unusual,” she says with a faint frown. Her face doesn’t move, which signals a fair amount of Botox. “But I have to admit that your proposition was intriguing. I want to hear you out, even if several of the members of my board do not. ”
My board , I think. I keep the snarl off my face. Ladies don’t snarl.
Theo’s told me a hundred times— charm them up front and then stab them in the back, baby.
“Yes,” I say with a calm I don’t feel. “Let’s talk about the proposition I have for you.”
She waits for me to continue. I don’t rush into it, remembering how Theo told me that patience and deliberation show confidence.
“I want to take control of Peterson International,” I say.
I don’t miss the barely perceptible jerk of her head.
“I’m aware of what my father has been saying about me in the press, but I assure you, none of it is true. I’ve been preparing for the last year to take over this company. My father wants to prevent that.”
“Your father has been at the helm of Peterson International for over a decade,” she responds with an arch of her brow.
“With all due respect, my father has been running my family’s company into the ground for the past decade, and his name isn’t even really Peterson.” Another thing he stole from my mother to make himself appear legitimate.
Theo coached me through this part.
The challenges to my authority, my identity. The support for the old way in the face of change.
“Go on,” she says.
I don’t like how she’s trying to run this meeting, but I need to remember that I need her vote. “I have a plan,” I say. I pull the presentation from my purse. “Benefits have been slashed dramatically, retention is down, and you’re the only woman on the board, Ms. Drake. I want to change that. Profit has been sinking for each of the last five years. My father has been successfully hiding it from you with some deft accounting, but if you look here, you’ll see that free cash flow is steadily declining. That’s not the sign of a healthy company. We have very little capital for new projects or acquisitions. If I take over the company, we will receive an immediate cash infusion and will begin to deploy that capital immediately. I have a number of projects detailed here that should significantly increase profits per share, with an eye toward taking the company public in the next five years.”
Avarice gleams in her eyes.
I sit back in my chair. “Please, take your time. I’m happy to answer any questions you might have, but I do need to know how you intend to vote at the next board meeting, or our potential investor is going to walk away.”
Theo will walk, and with him, the millions of dollars Jonah and Miles have agreed to invest in Peterson International.
“I’ll need some time to review the materials,” Celia says slowly.
“I need to know your vote now, Ms. Drake. I’m sorry.” I’m not sorry. These board members have rested on their laurels for far too long.
She purses her lips.
I begin cleaning up my papers.
“You’ll have it,” she says.
I want to crack a smile, but I can’t. Instead, I nod, nerves firing in my stomach, and shake her hand. Then I walk out. Theo is waiting, pacing, looking more nervous than I am. I give him a small nod and a smile, and he waits until we’re in the elevator to crush me to him.
“She said yes?” he asks.
“She said yes.”
He presses a hard, hungry kiss to my mouth. “I knew she would. Fuck, you’re so hot like this.”
I laugh. “In a suit?”
“Mm, yes. All…power-hungry and ruthless.” He kisses me again. “Want me to stop this elevator right now? I need you.”
I laugh again, drunk on success and Theo. “I don’t think that will endear me to the board.”
He nips at my neck. “I’m so proud of you, baby. I knew you could do it.”
“Only ten more conversations to go,” I say.
Ten more conversations, and Peterson International is mine.
Well, mine and Theo’s. Instead of feeling fear at sharing the company with my husband, I feel pride. He’ll continue on with Kings Lane, but he’ll be a board member and 25 percent shareholder. The biggest stake held by a non-blood relative in the history of the company. He deserves it and more.
Of the next ten board members, three say no, but seven give me definitive yeses. The oldest-serving member, Mr. Charles Harrison, is thrilled to see my father gone. He complains loudly about my father’s conduct, and I smile to myself while nodding seriously. He and I are going to get along just fine.
On Monday afternoon, I try to occupy myself around the mansion while the board meets. Theo tries to get me to go into the sauna with him, but I don’t think I can sit still.
At five p.m., my father calls.
“What the hell have you done, girl?”
Theo is watching me from his seat in the kitchen. His face hardens when I mouth to him that my father is on the line.
“You know what, Dad? Let’s have this discussion in person. I’ll come to you.”
Theo’s jaw works as we head for the garage. There’s no discussion of whether he needs to come with me. We discussed this weeks ago, part of the battle plan.
He drives with barely controlled rage and an expression that gets blacker and blacker as we near Rockwood.
“I love you,” I tell him.
“I love you,” he says, his shoulders lowering a fraction.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say. “You don’t have to come back to this awful place.” We discussed it, but I feel sick at the thought of Theo being confronted with the past.
“I need to be there. For you.”
I nod. I understand. My stomach gets tighter and tighter as we approach, but my limbs feel fluttery and weak.
The long drive to the estate looks the same as ever—designed to be imposing, but cold and austere.
When we knock on the door, it feels like I might throw up. I clutch Theo’s hand, and he squeezes mine in return. He’s here. He won’t let me fall .
My father himself opens the door. He looks angry and tired. The outside matches the poisonous inside, at least.
“What do you want?” His voice is cutting, slicing me into ribbons.
What did I expect?
I crumple inside. I’m seventeen again, being yelled at for wearing the wrong dress. I’m fifteen again, going without dinner because Theo and I climbed a tree and broke one of the limbs. I’m eight again, watching my father bring my stepmother to my mother’s funeral.
“Let us inside,” Theo says. “Cat has some items she wants to retrieve.” His tone brooks no argument, and surprisingly, my father complies.
We follow him into the formal living room that’s seen a hundred awkward family encounters. There’s no warmth in this house.
“So your little bid was successful,” he says snidely. “Did he put you up to this?” He jerks his head at Theo.
“No,” I say as calmly as I can. “This is what I’ve always wanted.”
He snorts. “You’re going to change your tune within six months. You don’t have the fortitude, girl. You should have left the running of the company to those suited to do it.”
Men, he doesn’t say.
That crumpling feeling turns rapidly to anger.
“You mean those who are more interested in lining their pockets than running a business?” I ask sweetly. “If you ever turn against me publicly again, I’ll sue you, and I’ll take this house.”
“You can’t do that. You’re no one.” His face is reddening rapidly, his jowls shaking. He takes a step forward, and Theo immediately steps in front of me.
“I told her to kick you out, you leech. She refused. Your existence is dependent on my wife’s good graces. I suggest you do everything in your power to avoid pissing her off. Because if you do, I promise you, getting kicked out of your home will be the least of your problems.” His voice is low and vicious, and my father’s eyes widen.
“Get what you need and get out,” my father says.
We rush upstairs, down hallways I wish I didn’t know, until we reach my childhood bedroom. I push open the door to a space that’s been completely changed. I stop short. Theo’s hands land on my shoulders.
“Every trace of me has been erased.” My voice comes out shaky and weak.
“Let’s get what we need and go,” Theo says gently.
“If it’s even here,” I respond. It might not be. They might have thrown it away along with everything else. And that, more than anything, makes me want to cry.
But they didn’t. The box is still there, in the top of my closet. I pull it out with shaking hands. I pass it to Theo, not trusting myself to keep it safe.
“This is it?” He cradles it against his chest.
I nod. “That’s it. Let’s go.”
He hustles me out of the house with an arm around my shoulders, and I don’t take a full breath until we’re back in the car.
“Thank you,” I say as I try and fail to buckle myself. “Fuck. I can’t—” I press my palms to my eyes, hunching in on myself.
“Let me,” Theo says.
And then my husband is there, gently buckling the seat belt and checking to see that it’s secured, pressing a kiss to my forehead, placing the precious box on my lap.
“Do you want to stop at your house here?” I ask. “I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask. I’m sorry, Theo.”
He shakes his head and starts the car. “I never want to come here again. Let’s go home, princess.” He gives me that crooked smile.
“Home,” I say. “I’ve never heard a better word.”
Theo drives us all the way to the Montauk house that night. I wake to him lifting me out of the car, the box still in my arms.
“Theo,” I say. “You smell good.” Like man and pine and home.
“I have you, baby. Go back to sleep.” His voice rumbles under me as his shoes crunch over the gravel. He somehow unlocks the house with one hand, and then he’s laying me on the couch and firing up the gas fireplace.
I sit up and blink sleep from my eyes. “I want to open the box,” I say .
“Tonight?” Theo looks at me with concern. It’s the look he’s been wearing all evening. He keeps touching me, like he’s scared I’m going to break if he doesn’t hold me together.
It’s not far from the truth.
“I need to,” I tell him before I pull off the lid to the old shoebox. Inside are the things most precious to me in the world. My mom’s diary, her old jewelry, and one photo. Of me and her. I’m six years old and sitting on her lap, and I’m smiling like nothing in the world can harm me.
I pass it to Theo with shaking hands.
His mouth hitches up as he looks at it. “You look so happy.”
“I was,” I say, my voice shaking. “I felt like everything would be okay when I was with her. I hadn’t felt that way since. Until I found you again.”
His head jerks up. He places the photo back in the box. “Come here,” he says, opening his arms. I crawl into his lap and press my cheek to his heart. His strength seeps into me, his bravery, his resilience, his determination.
“I love you, Theo.”
“I love you,” he says. “I will always love you.”