26. Declan
DECLAN
I went from the office to pick up Reese. She climbed straight into the passenger seat, but I got a good glimpse of her before she got in.
“Morning.”
"Wow, good morning to you too, cousin. Why do you look so grumpy?"
I blinked, confused. “I’m not. Just surprised. You look great, like we’re going to a cocktail party or something."
"Oh yeah. I put on my best suit, and I woke up extra early to get these beach waves done.
I wanted to look my best. Please don't ask me why.
I don't know either. I'm sure my therapist and I are going to have a field day dissecting this later on. I woke up this morning thinking, ‘I want to look my best when I see that bastard.’”
"Right," I said, totally taken aback. I hadn’t expected that monologue, nor did I know what to say to make her feel better.
So I did the only thing I knew: I slipped into lawyer mode, explaining to her how today would most likely go, what was okay to say and what not.
Truthfully, since this wasn't a court meeting but a private one, we had a wide berth to discuss everything and anything.
I didn't care that there was another lawyer present.
We arrived ten minutes before the meeting was about to begin. I was going to suggest we take a walk and grab coffee, but my cousin was restless. She was tapping her fingers against her legs and bouncing her heel against the car’s floorboard.
"Let’s go," I said. I usually liked to arrive later—fashionably late, as it made the adversary uneasy, giving me the upper hand.
All I typically needed were a few extra minutes, enough to prove I wasn't bending to their rules.
But now I had to think about Reese, and what she needed was to get this crap over with.
We headed straight inside, then into the meeting room.
It was a rented pop-up office off LaSalle, on the ground floor between two other businesses.
One seemed to be a travel agency, the other one a clothing store.
In the past couple years, I'd had a few mediation meetings in places like this. They were neutral ground.
Malcolm and Ashburn stood up when they saw us.
"What are you doing here?" Malcolm asked Reese.
“Joining my cousin,” Reese replied easily.
Ashburn looked straight at me. I cocked a brow. I’d swept the floor with him multiple times in the courtroom. He should be cautious.
"We cited you only," Ashburn said, looking straight at me.
“But since this isn't a court meeting, I can bring whoever the hell I want. Now let’s start this freak show.”
Ashburn and Malcolm exchanged a glance. I had the upper hand.
Reese coming along was a masterstroke. I would never have asked her to come, but the truth was it was great that she was here. It obviously caught them off guard and gave us an advantage.
We sat down at the table. Malcolm seemed too stunned to speak.
Ashburn was looking through the stack of papers in front of him.
"Are we going to start this anytime soon?” I questioned. “Reese and I don't have all day."
"You’re not supposed to be here," Malcolm snapped at Reese. She was sitting with her back ramrod straight. She was smiling at him, but it wasn’t a friendly one. It was her attack smile. She was fighting to win.
Ashburn cleared his throat. "We all know why we’re here."
"No, we don't," I said. "Please explain."
"We sent you papers. You know exactly why you're here," Ashburn replied, clearly annoyed with me.
I leaned forward, putting both elbows on the table, joining my hands, and looking at them with my most relaxed expression. That was one of my favorite tactics. When you wanted to put your opponent on edge, you had to look as if you didn’t give a fuck.
"Yes, but we all know you have no defamation case. So why don't you tell us what you really want? It's why you scheduled a private meeting instead of actually taking me to court.”
"My client sustained significant losses because of your interference with the Halsey Group."
"And I give a fuck why?" I asked. Yes, I was baiting them, but I also knew where I was going with this.
"I need you to retract everything you said to them. I need that job back," Malcolm said, looking at me. Then he looked at Reese. “You put him up to this. I never thought you were so cold.”
“Reese didn't know anything about it,” I replied. “None of my family did. It was all me.”
“But if I had known, Malcolm, I would have supported him 100 percent,” Reese added.
“Listen to me,” Malcolm went on. Both Reese and I had our “I don’t give a shit” faces on. “My girlfriend is pregnant, and I'm out of a job. I need that job.”
I was so glad Reese got rid of this asshole before they married. She’d realize how lucky she was one day.
"That’s not our problem," I said.
“I'm about to make it your problem. Do you know how many reporters have been banging down my door? Ever since we canceled the wedding, they’re dying to know the whole story. And for the right price… I’ll tell them. And I’ll make it good—regular rag-fodder.”
I felt Reese stiffen next to me, and I cursed inwardly. She’d told me repeatedly how many times she’d had to turn down reporters.
“Oh, I hit a nerve, didn't I?” Malcolm sneered.
“What's the matter? You don’t want the family name trashed in the papers? Two generations of Maxwells have managed to keep it out of gossip rags, but you failed. Unless I get my job back.” I wanted to punch the asshole in his face, but then he went on.
“The heirs aren't living up to the Maxwell standards. Is that what you want? The Maxwell name trashed? You think your situation is difficult now, Reese? Imagine what it would be like if everyone knew the real story. Poor Reese Maxwell! All the socialites would pity you.”
"Pity me for what?" Reese asked in an astonishingly calm voice. I had to grab the armchair with both hands to keep from leaping across the table. “You cheated on me with my best friend. That is not a reflection on me.”
“Is that what you’re learning in therapy these days? Oh yes, I know about your little trips.” The bastard was egging her on, trying to get a reaction just like he did with Tyler when my brother punched him.
“There’s no shame in reaching out for help.
And I certainly needed it.” She turned to look at me, and I recognized that glance.
She was telling me to remain calm. My cousin was about to turn the tables completely, and while I had no idea what she planned to do, I knew it would be epic. Reese only did epic.
She took a deep breath, looking at Ashburn and then finally at Malcolm.
“This is what we’re going to do,” she said, taking out her phone.
"What are you doing?" Malcolm asked.
“I’m calling the reporter who's been bugging me most about our breakup. From Vogue . I believe they offered the most money for my story, and I’m going to take it. I’ll give the interview myself and donate the money to charity.”
I blinked, straightening in my chair. Fucking hell. She thought she’d drop this bomb and I’d stay calm?
“Reese, do you want to talk about it first?” I asked.
"No, no, I've got it," she said, holding up a finger to me.
Her hand was shaking a bit. She had her phone in the other hand while she looked straight at Malcolm.
“You think you can hold this shit over my head my whole life and somehow make my family pay for it? You're delusional. Yes, it is important to me to keep the family name pristine.” Her voice broke, but she didn’t stop, merely took a deep breath.
“Of course I’ve always wanted to honor it, which you know.
But I'm not going to give you any opportunity to hurt my family by giving your twisted version of the story.” Reese paused again, sat straighter in her chair, and leaned closer to the table.
“You want to make money. You find a goddamn job.”
Bam! The look on her ex’s face was priceless. It was all I could do to hold back my laughter.
“I had a job. You took it from me,” he said through gritted teeth.
“And now I'm going to take this opportunity for you to make very easy money on the Maxwell name away from you too. Revenge is a bitch, isn’t it, Malcom?” Reese sneered.
“I can always reply to your interview. You can’t stop me from giving my side.”
Reese laughed. Her hand was shaking even more, but she had Malcolm by the balls.
“Yes, you can. That's your right. You know how much you'll get paid for that? Nothing. Because you’re nobody . It’s the Maxwell name and story they all want, and you know it.” Although I loved her bravado, as a lawyer, I did think Malcolm could find someone to give him something in exchange for his version of their breakup.
But she was right—it would be very little once she got the story out there first.
She pressed two keys on her phone before putting it to her ear.
Malcolm rose to his feet. "Reese!"
Ashburn rose too, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Stay calm.”
“What the fuck? What is she doing?”
He advanced as if he were coming over to Reese, but I stepped to one side, right between them.
“Don’t come any fucking closer.”
“Stop her,” Malcolm said. “Stop?—”
"Hey, Vanessa," Reese said, "it's Reese Maxwell.
You've contacted me several times. Okay, good. You know who I am.” The smirk she gave Malcolm was priceless.
“Look, I know I've told you I have no interest in giving you an interview regarding the cancellation of my wedding, but I've changed my mind. I'm ready to give that interview. I can do it today. In fact, I’ll be wrapping up what I’m doing now in less than half an hour. I can meet you afterward if you can accommodate me.” After a few seconds of silence, she added, “Brilliant. Thank you. I’m on LaSalle. Yes, I know where the coffee shop is. I’ll lay it all out, and I'll be especially grateful if you can publish it in the very next edition.”
The woman on the phone said something more, and Reese smiled.