12. Edward
EDWARD
My laptop screen shows clips of a lush rainforest , greens as far as the eyes can see, with a woodwind instrument playing sonorously to the pitter-patter of rain.
I'd selected this relaxing scene right before lowering myself into the bath.
My eyes are closed, my thoughts are not of Noelle. Or maybe they are.
I think of us and how we've steered clear of talking about what happened days ago.
I can't tell if she would rather put the incident away from mind or is just being professional in our goal to nabbing my brother.
I exhale to clear my thoughts and sink further into the tub, until the water laps at my earlobes.
I hear the familiar chime of a new email but don't open my eyes immediately. I wait one breath, two, then open my eyes to find her name in the preview line of the notification panel.
Available for a call? Have news.
I withdraw my hands out of the bath and reach for a towel hanging from a rack nearby. I dry my hands and pull the wooden tub tray holding my laptop towards myself.
Yes. Go ahead, I type back.
Thirty seconds later, a video call notification appears on screen, centered over the relaxing video. I accept it.
Noelle connects instantly, her video filling the screen. She's in a small bedroom, the lamp behind her casting clean light across her face. She looks sleepy yet composed.
Her eyes drop below the frame for exactly one second, but her expression doesn't change. She brings her gaze back up and holds it steadily on my face, almost like she's made a mental note not to ask about why I'm taking her call during a soak.
"Graham approached me after the briefing," she gets right into her news.
“I noticed. Anything interesting?”
"He offered me a seven-figure wire transfer to an offshore account of my choosing, plus an executive VP position at a firm in Dallas." She pauses. "In exchange for aligning my data with his three-hundred-million-dollar figure and dropping the wrongful termination suit."
“I told the board I had the suit handled.” I tilt my head to the side. “Do you think Graham is becoming suspicious?”
"If you were in his position, wouldn't you?” Her eyes hold steady on mine. "He's panicking."
"What did you tell him?"
"No," she says. "But I've been thinking about what the offer actually tells us."
I reach forward and angle the laptop slightly, settling back. "That's clear as day. You don't commit to a false figure and try to sway your detractor to your side because you're an honest fellow."
"Agreed. But I was thinking of a more strategic answer.”
“Go on.”
“If your brother is still hell-bent on his projections, there could be more at play than we know.
He could already have a potential destination for clearing the money.
Plus, given that you want to keep this in-house, if he has my backing, there's a very good chance he could go straight to the board with it, which will put you in an unfavorable light, since you intend to limit their buy-in to Cartly.”
Fuck! How had I not seen this coming? Of course, Graham didn't go undetected for this long by being dumb. He may not have an honest, hardworking bone in his body. But—by God!—the fucker thinks!
If he goes to the board with Cartly, I lose either way. Just because it's a Trojan Horse doesn't mean it's not a solid idea regardless. Graham could either claim credit for it or throw me under the bus. And given the state of our relationship recently, I'd be lucky if he did only that.
“Please tell me you were able to catch it on record.”
Noelle picks up her phone and holds it for me to see. “I did.”
“Great.” I sigh. “We can use that to nullify him, then.”
“I'm afraid it might not be enough.”
My brows knit in a frown. “Why not?”
“Having a deterrent is not the same as uprooting a cancerous tumor. I want to learn more, especially about the paper trail.”
I look at her, my pace picking up.
“I don't think I like where this is going.”
Noelle ignores my concerns. “So, I go back to Graham…
tell him I've reconsidered and will align the data to his three-hundred-million-dollar figure.
But on one condition: I want an equal split of the inflated margin.
One hundred million to him, one hundred million to me, routed however he routes his cut.
" Her tone is even. "He'll have to show me the mechanism to prove he can deliver.
The moment he does, we have an account structure. "
It is a clean trap. It is also her walking directly into the path of a man who has already demonstrated he will use any leverage available to him. I take a moment before I respond.
"He'll want to meet," I say. “I don't think he'll want to do this over the phone.”
"Yes."
"Isn't that dangerous?"
"Not if we play our cards right," she stifles a yawn.
"I was thinking of leveraging his current sentiments and paranoia.
I'll ask to meet somewhere he feels comfortable, where he'd easily believe I suggested to try and stay off your radar.
" She pauses. "There's a villa in Paris.
We stayed there for our second anniversary.
He'll read it as me longing for what used to be, or careful, or both. Either way, he won't question it."
This tidbit of history rearranges my guts, but I keep a straight face.
"How do you intend to get him there?"
"I’ll shoot him a text that I want to talk, and ask him to book the villa and expect me."
"You think he'll bite?"
“I don't see why not. Unless you don't think it's a good idea.”
I want to say that it isn't. But that'll be my emotions peeking through my careful facade. The last thing I want is for her to think I would let emotions get in my way, or worse, be the reason she can never have a career again.
"I don't object." I swallow, hard.
“But do you agree?” There's a mischievous glint in her eyes, almost like she's baiting me.
“Moving on, Noelle.” I adjust in the tub until half my torso peeks out of the water. I watch her go stiff at the neck.
“I intend to record the conversation.”
“And if he's smart enough to check your phone? I mean, you've caught him off-guard before.”
“Then, I switch to the most obvious option: my laptop. He'd get so carried away with having my phone that he might forget the very laptop we'd be scheming on can also be a recording device. Hell, I could even make a call in the background, you know?”
"I'd prefer that.”
“You would, wouldn't you?” There's that mischievous glint again.
"You'd be in another country with him," I defend myself. “It's only fair that you have some backup.”
"I've been in a room alone with him before," her tone is firmer now. "I was fine."
"And security personnel were always on hand each time. A private villa is a different ballgame."
"Edward." Her voice is patient, yet stern. "Graham wants the money more than he wants to intimidate or get back with me. As long as he thinks I'm his co-conspirator, I'm useful. He won't fuck with useful."
She isn't wrong. Graham has never been reckless with assets he believes he controls. The plan works. I know it does. But I also don't particularly want her in a Parisian villa alone with my brother.
"Draft the text to him tonight," I say. "Run it by me before you send it, yeah? I need a copy for backup. Also, the wording needs to read impulsive enough that he believes it, but not so urgent that he gets suspicious."
"Agreed. Already started.”
Of course she has.
"I'll confirm with Zach that it's all above board, so the recording is airtight evidence," I continue. "Whatever he says in that villa needs to be admissible."
She nods. "I'll send you the draft in an hour."
"Good."
She holds the frame for a moment, finally letting her gaze wander downward slightly. Then she hesitates to go further, then catches my eye again.
“Goodnight, Edward.”
The screen returns to the rain forest video before I can reply.