Chapter 65 #2
Layla nodded as if she understood, but I knew she didn’t.
And I knew that only increased her suspicion of what I had done.
I’m sure there would come a time in which she became even more involved in this, but for selfish reasons, I wanted to be the one to wage this war.
If Layla, because of her creepy uncle, wanted to get involved after the fact, if she wanted to be part of that gravity yanking Edwin down, I was all for it.
“What else happened?”
And there’s the acknowledgment that she wants to know more. There it is.
“I suppose there’s no pussy-footing around it, huh?
I want to go to goddamn war. And I want to do it now.
It’s time, for the sake of everyone in the business world, to take down Edwin Hunt.
The man is like a cancer on modern society, and I’m not going to let that cancer spread any further.
It’s time to launch some chemo and some surgery. ”
“I see. Metaphors aside, Chance, are you sure you’re in the right frame of mind for this?”
No, I didn’t. But who cared at this point?
One minute I was unusually calm, the next I was ready to lash right back at Edwin.
I think in the span of the 30 hours or so since I’d gotten to Layla’s apartment, I’d flung through every level of emotion and then some, all trying to figure out just what the hell I would do moving forward.
“I’m in the ‘good enough’ frame of mind for this,” I responded.
“OK,” she said, sounding like a mother who just realized her eighteen year old son is going on an adventure she would never approve of. “So what are you going to do?”
“Simple, leverage,” I said, although the plan was anything but simple, relying on a lot of unknowns and a lot of other people to come through for me.
It was so far removed from simple, in fact, that much of it was only coming to mind as I spoke to Layla in this moment.
“There are a lot of people who despise Edwin, right? A lot of people who have been burned and hurt by him. Hell, his own wife just left him, I’m not sure what much more needs to be said than that.
In fact, that’s a large part of why this could work right now. ”
Like a mad genius—though I was anything but—I found myself suddenly standing and pacing, unable to contain the excitement in my voice about the possibility that this plan presented.
“People are going to want more Edwin Hunt articles, especially now that he’s going through a divorce that is very public and, judging by Edwin’s reaction to me on the phone, is going to be very acrimonious.
People will want the juice. And for all that’s happened?
There’s bound to be a few people that have juice.
Hell, John Burnson, my old boss, will have some, based on some decade old grudge that happened. ”
Then a thought came to mind I wasn’t sure I felt comfortable asking, but the fact that I didn’t dismiss it immediately told me I needed to ask it.
“Do you think your uncle would have anything? Could you reach out to him?”
“Craig Taylor?” she said, a noticeable gulp coming. “He’s not going to be happy to see me.”
“I know, and I don’t want you to if you don’t want to,” I said, not quite a true statement but the closest thing to diplomacy I could muster at that moment.
“But I really think this is a chance to do some good for myself and for the world. And I’m not just saying that as some grandiose bullshit.
I really do think that. I need any and all sources of information I can get, no matter how bad or ugly they might be.
Of course not all of it will make it up, but…
we don’t need to win the court of law, we just need to win the court of public opinion. ”
Layla nodded but went into the tank to think.
I kept pacing as I tried to consider all of our options.
It was right now that I was reaching way back into my memory bank, trying to think of who had come through the door to my adopted parents’ mansion to close on business deals.
For once, I wished I had been closer to Edwin in those times so I would have better answers.
“Make a deal with you, Chance,” she said. “I’ll do that, but I need something from you.”
“Anything.”
“A date.”
Damn. Clever girl.
“I did say anything, didn’t I,” I said, but I was wearing a smile. It would be nice. It would be right in line with what I’d thought earlier about needing to do things the right way. “Alright. You got yourself a deal.”
I went over and shook her hand, a move that was hilarious in its formality.
“Thanks, Layla,” I said.
“Thank me if I’m able to get anything.”
I wasn’t thanking her just for going to her uncle, though. I was thanking her for everything—her understanding, her generosity, her willingness to help, her everything.
Well, not quite everything. I wasn’t ready to thank her for something I couldn’t emotionally focus on…
But admittedly, in moments of relaxation, I definitely thought of those things just a little more.