Linden #2
Beckett laughs maniacally. "Holy fucking shit. Your answer to the stability clause and a hostile witness is marriage?"
I glare at my brother. "My answer to a board-created leverage failure is a lawful proposal to a woman who can refuse me and make it stick."
My brother shakes his head. "So you actually want her to refuse then? Or are you hoping she actually agrees?"
"Doesn't matter," I tell him. "I win either way."
It's Quentin's turn to laugh. "That bullshit sentence should be taken out back and shot."
"Careful," I tell him. "You're my friend, so I grant you some leeway, but even friends can go too far sometimes..."
"Linden." Quentin sets the packet down. "Would you want her if the fucking vote didn't exist?"
I still know how her hand felt closing around the back of my neck....
My fingers curl against the desk. I flatten them before either of these bastards gets the pleasure of noticing. "This is governance."
"Bullshit," Beckett says. He leans forward.
"Let's review. Mother's goddamn legal-wife trap opens today.
Your anonymous one-night stand is the commission witness against Sentinel and works for a shelter with a note coming due.
Now you want a marriage license with her name on it.
This shit is deranged, and deranged is being generous. "
"It's only deranged if I use the debt," I say. "It's suicide if I pretend the debt isn't on the table. The bridge lender squeezes Lantern House by Friday. The Board moves at four. Sentinel's hearing calendar puts her under oath. Same week, same woman, same fucking blast radius."
"So separate it," I continue. "Debt file through counsel only. If we buy the note, it goes into a standstill with no acceleration, no demand letters, and no cute leverage hidden in footnotes. Lantern House gets protected whether Aubrey Bell says yes, no, or throws a chair through the wall.
"To be clear, nobody drags her here. Nobody pulls hotel footage, visits her apartment, or corners her at the shelter.
Hester, my personal attorney, contacts Lantern House counsel first, not Aubrey's private phone.
The message names Sentinel, the Board clause, the note, and me.
She can bring counsel, send counsel, take a call, or tell us to fuck off.
"If she agrees to hear it, independent counsel of her choosing gets paid through escrow with no reporting line to me.
She gets veto rights on public language.
Six months through final approval and commission testimony.
Termination rights if I touch her testimony, her job, or Lantern House to punish her.
No conjugal bullshit. Separate bedroom if she wants it"
Quentin watches me for too long. "You rehearsed that fast."
"I think fast," I counter.
Beckett lifts both hands. "Fine. Marry the hostile witness. What could possibly go wrong except every single fucking thing?"
"That's why Amos is coordinating," I say, as I call my chief of staff back in.
Amos reenters with his notebook open. "Instructions?"
I explain the situation. He takes the news better than my brother or best friend did. The man's a machine.
"Clean room," I tell him. "Hester Vale drafts the proposal.
Independent-counsel language first. Make the debt acquisition memo separate from the personal proposal.
Also, conflict disclosures should be in plain English.
And don't forget the board clause. The Sentinel calendar.
And the commission schedule. And what she keeps control over. And what I don't get to touch."
Amos writes.
"Meeting location?" he asks.
"Not my office. Not Lantern House. Legal floor, conference room, blinds down. No recording. Only Hester in the room with us. If Aubrey wants Lantern House's executive director or her own lawyer, they come in too."
"Timing?" Amos presses.
Aubrey's packet sits open on my desk, her staff photo half-covered by the due-diligence memo.
Witness.
The woman who left before sunrise.
I tap the page once. "Ask for the meeting with Aubrey Bell before anyone else gets to turn her into a weapon. Ask, Amos. Don't summon."
The conference room has glass walls. The blinds are down.
Hester Vale sits on my right, taking notes. Amos waits outside. Beckett and Quentin are gone because I enjoy chaos, not assisted suicide.
Aubrey walks in at 11:04 with a Lantern House folder against her chest. She takes one step into the room, sees me, and stops so fast the door bumps her shoulder.
"Oh my god," she splutters, and looks like she's about ready to collapse.
Hester's pen stops moving.
When I stand, the scratches across the backs of my hands show. "Ms. Bell."
"No." She looks at the Sentinel folder, then Hester, then back at me. "No. You're not... this is a joke."
"No," I tell her.
"You're Linden Dunleavy," she says quietly.
My collar feels too tight. "Yes."
Aubrey makes a small, ugly sound that almost turns into a laugh. "Fuck me."
"I did," I say quietly.
She glares at me. "Do not say that in this conference room."
Her mouth is the same one that laughed against my shoulder in the dark. Now she presses it flat in anger, above a folder that can damage my company.
"I gave testimony prep to the commission this morning," she says, "after leaving your hotel room. So if you're trying to buy me off you're too late and—"
"I have no such intention," I interrupt. "In fact, I read the testimony already, after waking up alone in the hotel room."
Color climbs her throat. My neck goes hot, too. I handle it by becoming a blank-faced asshole in front of my personal attorney.
"Holy shit," Aubrey says. "You are the exact wrong person. And I'm the exact wrong person for you. Great. Great." She lowers the Lantern House folder to the table. "So this is about Lantern House, not... not last night."
"It's about Lantern House," I agree. "And it's also about Sentinel, the Board, my mother's trust, and last night being less anonymous than either of us planned."
"What a horrible sentence." She sits down.
"I've heard worse sentences today," I retort.
"So you called me here because of the shelter debt then?" she presses.
I nod.
"And because I'm a witness against you?" she continues.
"Yes," I agree.
She stops, grimaces, and looks at Hester. "And of course you have your lawyer present.."
Hester closes his folder. "Ms. Bell, we can pause. You can leave now and take independent counsel before any discussion continues."
Aubrey points at me without looking away from Hester. "Does he already have a proposal in there?"
"Yes," Hester says.
"I see." She straightens her back. "And what kind of proposal are we talking? Some hush money sort of deal? Because like I told you, it's too late to buy me, and I'm not buyable anyway, and—"
"It's a legal proposal involving marriage," Hester interrupts.
Aubrey turns pale. When she finally looks at me, her eyes look terrified.
That hits harder than it should, for some reason.
But then her face hardens. "What the fuck, Linden? Is this a joke?"
"He's dead serious," I reply. "I want to marry you."
"And what if I don't want to marry you?" she hisses.
"You can walk out," I reply.
She stands up in a huff, stares daggers at me, then her features soften. "You said a legal proposal. I'm guessing it's going to have a time limit. And I get paid a lot of money? Not that you can buy me..."
"It has a time limit," I agree. "And yes, you get a lot of money. As does Lantern House."
She hesitates a moment longer, then takes a seat again. "Well, I'll listen. But I'm probably going to tell you to go to hell."
"I'm counting on it," I reply, if only to goad her.
But she doesn't take the bait. "Maybe I'll marry you just to spite you, then."
I don't know why, but the thought of that sparks a strange thrill inside me.
I open the folder in front of me because if I look at her mouth for one more second, I'll fucking lose control.