Chapter 5
LANEY
I n complete and utter shambles, I headed home, unsure of what to do or where to begin. Despite my promise to Sterling motherfluffing Westwood, I couldn’t afford to hire an attorney. Especially not someone good enough to fight this on my behalf.
It would be frightfully expensive to go up against a corporation like Westwood and Sons, and moreover, only the best would do for this. Racing up the shared stairs of our walk-up, I threw my hand up in a wave at our longtime neighbor, Mrs. Brooks but didn’t stop to talk to her like I usually did.
I felt like I was about to either pass out or explode. What has Megan done? Why would she do this to me?
All these years we’d been co-owners, I’d been more than happy to do all the work. Sure, I’d gotten frustrated with her at times. Annoyed. Maybe a little bit rude.
But I regularly put in twelve to sixteen-hour days and she simply cashed checks she didn’t work for. Of course, I lost it every once in a while. I’m only human.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected her to pull a stunt like this, though. A sob tore through me as reality kept pressing in on the edges of my disbelief. She’d sold the company with her majority share—and she hadn’t even bothered to mention it to me until it’d been done.
And then she’d acted like she’d done me a favor. Oh, everything will be okay.
No, it fucking won’t, Megan.
All of a sudden, it made complete sense that she’d been so interested when I’d told her about the market research I’d done to open up a second location. It made sense why she’d peppered me with questions about the online store.
She’d needed that information to negotiate a better price for herself, and here I’d thought she was finally ready to take on a shred of responsibility. My heart shattered when I realized what a fool I’d been.
I was too angry for tears, so I just paced from one side of our living room to the other, breathing raggedly like a bull looking for a matador to charge.
A well-worn path in the wood beneath my feet told me I wasn’t the first Rhodes to pace here.
Aimlessly. Hopelessly. So upset, but knowing I would fight this with everything I had.
As the sun was starting to set over the colorful rooftops of the townhomes across the street, I heard Dad’s key turn in the lock. Slow and steady, just the way he lived. Right now, it felt like there was a lesson in that for me, but I couldn’t see it.
My mind was still spinning.
Dad trudged into the living room, looking only slightly more rested than he had this morning. He was a big man, well over six and a half feet and he kept in good shape, but his face crumpled like a little child’s when he saw me.
This big, tough homicide detective, and he’d never been able to stand seeing me hurt. “Laney? What happened?”
“It’s Megan,” I explained in a shaky voice.
“She sold her share in Baby Blossom to some acquisitions company and they’re saying it’s all aboveboard and legal.
The head honcho over there told me they would buy me out, but that because she owned the majority share, she was allowed to sell the whole business to them. ”
Dad blinked in shock, then stumbled over to the couch like he’d aged thirty years in the last few seconds and slowly lowered himself down on it. Gaze trained on the sunset outside, he heaved out a breath and shook his head.
“That head honcho might just be right,” he said softly.
“I was afraid that might be the case.” I groaned and covered my face with my palms. “What am I going to do, Daddy? I can’t let this happen.”
“You might not be able to do much, other than to refuse to sell your shares.” He let out a deep, heavy sigh, kicking his feet out ahead of him and leaning back on the sofa.
“This company she sold to will eventually box you into a corner, though. They’re all sharks, those acquisitions people.
In the long run, it might just be better to take the deal he’s offering. ”
“Half a million dollars for almost a hundred years of Rhodes family history?” I scoffed, my head shaking as I collapsed onto the throw-covered couch across from him.
We’d had this same living room set for decades. Underneath the decorative throws, the velvet was full of holes, the old frames poking through in places, but Dad and I had never had much use for fancy and new.
We’d inherited our walk-up from my grandpa, and since the location was nearly unbeatable these days, we’d never even considered selling. I was walking distance from the store—not that it would matter if Westwood and Sons stole it from me—and Dad was an easy stroll away from the police station.
He looked around the room now, as if he was also thinking about our house as much as the store. “We’d still have this place, honey. That amount of money could set you up for life. You could reopen the store in a different location or just move to online sales.”
My head was shaking again before he’d even finished. “Maybe the shock is making me irrational, but I can’t do it, Dad. I’m never going to let this asshole win. Megan betrayed me. She betrayed all of us. I won’t just sit around and take it.”
Throwing myself face-down on the couch, I groaned and tried to get a grip, but it kept escaping my reach. I spent the rest of the day and night trying to figure out what to do, but no answers were forthcoming.
I was in a spiral and so shocked that I was struggling to comprehend what had happened and how. Dad tried his best to reason with me, but I was beyond logical reasoning. All I could think of was talking to Megan and convincing her to withdraw her acceptance of whatever they’d offered.
By the next morning though, I still hadn’t managed to get hold of her.
She was screening my calls and she’d blocked me on social media.
Flat out refusing to speak to me at all, she just really didn’t seem to give a damn that she’d sold my livelihood—and our family history—right out from underneath me.
Realizing that I was going to go absolutely nuts if I stayed in the house any longer, I got up at the crack of dawn and quickly got dressed, jogging over for Gwen’s early Pilates session.
My friend was disturbingly awake and pretty for the time of day, her wide brown eyes lined with coal and her dark ponytail sleek and smooth.
She grinned when I walked into the studio, officially her first customer of the morning. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in. I thought you said you’d rather live in traction when you’re older than to come back here.”
Despite my horrible night, dashed dreams, and crumbling life, I bit out a laugh. “I say that every time, and yet, I keep coming back.”
“Because you know it’s worth it.” She swept her gaze across my face and sat down on the step made by the low stage she stood on when she led the classes. “What’s going on?”
“Megan.” In that one word, I could tell that Gwen knew it would be bad. Her brow furrowed, pain streaking across her features as I blurted out what my lovely cousin had done this time.
When I was done, Gwen was as pale as I felt. “ Westwood. Why do I recognize that name?”
“Because it’s what the devil goes by when he’s on earth,” I suggested bitterly, feeling like the contents of my stomach had turned to sludge.
Her eyes narrowed in thought. “No, that’s not it.” A moment later, her gaze suddenly cut back to mine and her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Laney, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to beat this guy. Was his name Sterling?”
“Yep. How did you know?”
She groaned, grimacing like she was hurting badly. “The Ice King . Have you heard that nickname? Maybe seen it in the press?”
“No. Why?”
She sighed deeply, gracefully pushing to her feet and starting to pace along the length of her studio.
“That’s what Sterling Westwood is known as, Lane.
The media calls him The Ice King when they do features on him in his professional capacity.
In the tabloids, they also call him the Royal Prince Westwood because he’s next in line. ”
“Next in line for what?” I snapped. “We don’t have a monarchy. He’s neither a king nor a prince. He’s a grade-A dick, but that’s it.”
She shook her head. “I wish it was, but it’s not. I can’t believe you don’t know about them. I read another article about their family just a couple weeks ago in my hairdresser’s waiting room.”
“Oh.” I never even picked up a magazine anymore. “What makes them so special that people write articles about them?”
She sighed. “They’re the Westwoods .”
“You say that like it’s supposed to mean something to me.”
“It should,” she said. “God, I can’t believe you grew up here and you’ve never even heard about them. Where have you been?”
I shrugged. “Under a rock. Oh no, wait. I was at Baby Blossom, helping my mom before I even knew what work was.”
Gwen chuckled, but understanding shimmered in her eyes as she explained. “The Westwoods came to California during the first wave of the Gold Rush and the old man actually struck gold. These people have generational wealth dating back to the 1850s.”
“How nice for them.”
“Nice?” She snorted down a laugh. “They’re practically royalty in this town, hence the nicknames. Hell, they probably own at least half the city at this point. Sterling is the oldest of the four Westwood brothers. That means he’s the heir to the proverbial throne that is their family empire.”
My blood ran ice cold, but I refused to look intimidated. Even if I was really, desperately freaking intimidated right then. “So what? He still doesn’t have the right to just take whatever he wants.”
“No, he doesn’t, but he didn’t do that, did he? Megan sold him her shares and he’s known for being an absolute bulldog in business. That’s why they call him the Ice King. He’s the closer. The guy who gets shit done because apparently, he just doesn’t feel .”
Crap. I sure knew how to feel and right then, I felt like my heart was twisting in on itself. “I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate him.”
“I hear you,” she said, sympathy softening her eyes as she looked back at me. “I just don’t think he’s going to care.”
Other customers for the first class came trickling in and I tried to shut off my brain by making my muscles burn. After the class, Gwen had to dive into the next one and I jogged back home to grab a shower before I went to the store.
Dad’s snores tore through the quiet air in the house, the hardwood floors practically vibrating beneath my feet.
Knowing he was sleeping and that he’d made it safely home made me smile for the first time all day.
I left him a note in the kitchen to let him know I’d gone to the store despite everything that was happening.
When I got there, I sat Anna and Luella down and looked them right in the eyes, knowing I needed to let them know what might happen to their jobs. Once I was done, Anna was in tears, but Luella was frowning.
“Look at this,” she said, producing her phone as if it was permanently unlocked and attached to her hand. She showed me some pictures of Megan and several of her friends flying first class to Thailand. “I was wondering what was going on when I saw this.”
I stared at the pictures, unable to actually believe she could be so callous, but there she was, on her way to her year-long yoga retreat less than twenty-four hours after she’d told me the news. With a big old smile on her face to boot.
“Nothing is going to change,” I promised my employees as I tore my gaze away from the phone.
“I’m going to fight this as hard as I can.
I’m even going to go to LA this week as planned and scout that second location for us.
I’m not just going to roll over and play dead.
I promise. I’m going to find a way to save us. ”
As I said it, my phone started ringing and I swiped it up, seeing a number I didn’t recognize on the screen. Frowning, I accepted the call. My heart catapulted into my throat at the crisp, deep voice that spoke up on the other end.
“Laney? This is Sterling Westwood. I?—”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and hung up on him. I had no idea how he’d gotten my number, but he didn’t have my permission to use it. Not now, and not ever.