27. Alistair
ALISTAIR
For the next week, Kenna remained out of sorts with me, Madison avoided ever being in the same room with me, and Locke and Weston weren’t even speaking to me. Given all of that, I’d actually believed that things couldn’t get worse…but now I had this.
I stared down in horror at the news alert that had just flashed across my phone: Destination developer in hot water after investors sound the alarm.
I’d only just spoken to Brian about my investment a week ago.
Christ, my business investments were just about the only thing in my life that hadn’t gone to shit.
But now with this…I was going to be the laughingstock of the whole industry.
I started reading the American Business Times article, my heart racing.
Travel tech entrepreneur Brian Marsh, once celebrated for the rapid growth of his ambitious travel platform Destination, is facing mounting scrutiny after leaked documents revealed that the company has laundered millions of dollars for various illegitimate entities through a network of shell companies.
According to multiple sources, Marsh is now under investigation after investors claimed they were misled…
Fuck!
My eyes widened with every line. I didn’t even want to guess what “illegitimate entities” Brian had laundered money for. But I was going to have to find out, wasn’t I? Because their name and mine would now be linked forever. I stalked down the hall toward my office, messaging Alfie.
We need to talk.
When? he replied a beat later.
Now!
I fired off the article to him and stuffed my phone back into my pocket. If these allegations turned out to be true, the media was going to tear me to shreds. I’d been duped not once but twice, in the most public way imaginable. I’d look like a complete fool.
I could imagine those image-destroying headlines now. High risk, no reward! Is Shaw’s business empire crumbling?
Goddammit!
After this, no one would touch my money with a ten-foot pole. No one would trust me with a job scrubbing toilets, much less managing any assets at all.
I smashed my fist down on my desk as I dropped into my chair, opening my laptop.
Of all the fucking people in the world, why did Brian Marsh have to walk up to me?
And why had I let myself lead with my ego—the biggest, dumbest, most obvious mistake any investor could make—and thrown in my money without doing due diligence?
Just on the chance that I might be able to one-up the board at Voyages.
Well, they’d be getting the last laugh now, and I’d hear it ringing in my ears forever after.
A video call finally rang through. I answered it, running my hand down my face. “Have you read it?” I asked Alfie, bile gathering at the back of my throat.
Alfie was staring down at his phone, shaking his head. “I always knew he was a slimy bastard. He just had a vibe.”
I should have known! But I’d only seen what I’d wanted to see. “We need to get on top of damage control before this breaks the British news,” I said. “I don’t even want to imagine the field day the press are going to have with this once they realize I’m an investor.”
“About that…” Alfie said, drumming his fingers against his lips on the other side of the screen. I’d never seen him look so sheepish. “Please don’t blow your top.”
I frowned. “What did you do?”
“Well…” He pursed his lips. “Let’s just say, your investment hasn’t quite reached the Destination team yet.”
“How?” I asked, dumbfounded. I’d specifically told him to push it through the last time we’d spoken about Destination.
“I might have slow-walked the investment,” he admitted.
“I told the Destination team that you were very interested but that they needed to disclose some more details before we could transfer the funds. I received a little pushback about that.” He arched a manicured eyebrow.
“Considering everything going on, perhaps that was a sign. Anyway, I’ve been in negotiation about the paperwork for the past week, and the investment was never actually… made.”
“You…haven’t transferred the funds?” I said.
“No. And I suppose we won’t be now.” Alfie caught his lip between his teeth, looking at me awkwardly.
Then he exploded. “I know, I know, boss! I went against orders. But I know how careful you try to be, and rushing this one just didn’t feel right.
I didn’t want one hasty decision to derail everything you’ve built. But I know I seriously overstepped.”
No fucking shite.
There was a long beat as I blinked at him, trying to process how I felt.
On one hand, my personal administrative assistant had blatantly ignored a direct order from me.
And once again, someone I trusted had gone behind my back.
But on the other hand, by doing that, Alfie had just unequivocally saved my ass.
“I’m sorry,” Alfie said, sounding properly apologetic. “I completely understand if you want to fire me.”
“I’m not going to fire you,” I grumbled, rubbing my eyes.
“You’re not?”
I sighed heavily, equal parts frustrated and relieved.
“I can’t say that I approve of you going rogue like this, but considering what’s happened, it’s clear you made the right call.
I didn’t give this deal the time and attention it needed to be able to make a smart business decision, and you protected me from my own hubris.
” I gave him a stern look. “But it can’t happen again.
In the future, if you have concerns, we talk them out.
You do not just decide for yourself which orders you’ll follow and which you’ll ignore. You hear me?”
“Loud and clear, boss.”
“Wish you’d stepped in like this when I started dating Jessica,” I muttered. “Can’t say I love being on a first-name basis with half the paparazzi in the country.”
Alfie’s lips twitched. “She was good enough to slip under even my radar.”
I grunted and refused to admit that mildly helped.
“You know, boss. Maybe you want to check out some of the responses online to the situation with Jessica. I think you’ll find that the media coverage is a little…different from the last time around. Especially when the reporters talk to locals in Braeburn.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said.
I’d been on a social media blackout, knowing it wouldn’t be good for me to ruminate over all the bullshit and lies.
I already had a dark hole in my chest from missing Madison and from stressing over the way I’d left things with Weston and Locke.
I didn’t need to be gutting myself further by subjecting myself to the toxic media drivel.
“I’m going to send you something,” Alfie said. “Just…trust me. When you’re feeling up to it, give the video a watch.”
“Aye, no promises,” I said.
“Right. Night, boss. Talk tomorrow.” Alfie ended the call. A moment later, a link arrived in our chat. I hovered the mouse over it, uncertain. Did I really want to see anything the media had to say? But Alfie had asked me to trust him—and I did. So I clicked on the link.
The video started playing, and I gritted my teeth in anticipation. It was a compilation of all the bloggers and podcasters and journalists that had flooded Braeburn recently. They chattered in their videos, their questions leaving my insides twisting uneasily.
“Who is Alistair Shaw really?”
“Did you know what he was caught up in when he moved to town?”
“How do you feel about the fact he’s living next door?”
“What do you think about his relationship with Jessica?”
It was clip after clip of wannabe media hounds attempting to get the residents to go on the record spilling dirt about me and Jessica and—
“What can you tell us about Madison’s relationship with Alistair?”
“Is she really just the nanny?”
“Did she know who he was when she met him?”
But where I expected all the locals to start dishing up everything they knew—or whatever salacious bits they felt like making up—instead I heard…
“Piss off! Or I’ll shove that mic where the sun doesn’t shine.”
That came from Jo, the fiery old busybody who ran the local paper—and just about everything else she set her mind to. There wasn’t a single thing that happened in Braeburn Jo didn’t know about, and watching her scowl at the camera stirred something hopeful in my chest.
The video cut to Cat, slapping a sign on the front of her café door. NO CAMERAS. There was a drawing of a scowling kitten beside it. “You’re a bunch of arseholes!” she called, pointing at whoever was holding the camera. “You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
The video cut again to a familiar lobby. The Deerhound. Isla stepped into view.
“Do you see this?” she snapped, pointing at her very pregnant belly. “Unless you want to be known as the jackass who got body-checked by a pregnant woman, get the hell out of my inn!”
Locke appeared behind her, arms crossed, wearing a menacing scowl, and the video cut abruptly.
It opened again on Lesley, walking into the front of her shop.
“I’ve got nothing to say to you, lads,” she said.
There was the harsh click of a lock. A moment later, the door swung back open.
“And you lot leave Madison alone. She has nothing to say either, and this town won’t tolerate you pestering her. ”
My chest clenched at the way the town had come together, refusing to cooperate with the media, instead heaping criticism on the vultures trying to swoop in and make bank off my misfortune.
The community in Braeburn had become the walls I’d imagined erecting around Dunhope, standing between me, Kenna, and the rest of the world.
Most notably was Madison. There were a lot of clips of her. Now that she was living at the inn, it was pretty easy for people to pounce on her the moment she walked out the door for any reason.
“No comment,” she said in response to a question about my conversation with Jessica at the police station. Cameras flashed. The video cut to a new day.
“Screw off,” she said when someone asked her about Kenna.
The following day, she flashed them the finger. “You’re a bunch of evil little cockroaches, you know that?” she snapped in the next clip. “Going after a man who’s just trying to take care of his child.” She sneered at them. “Why don’t you go get real jobs?”
She slammed the door of her van so hard she almost crunched a mic that was shoved in her direction, hoping for a follow-up comment.
It must have been incredibly draining to be hounded every time she left the inn, but she never once wavered.
Never once said anything negative about me despite how she must have been hurting after the way I’d behaved.
Never once brought all the harassment to my attention.
I could’ve arranged for a car to bring her to and from Dunhope, with security to keep the paparazzi from getting close, but she never asked.
I guess that means we’re back to keeping things strictly business between us from now on.
I swallowed hard at the reminder of her words as I stared at one final image of her. My throat tightened. I’d said yes at the time, but it hadn’t been what I’d wanted. Not really.
But I’d only known one way to protect myself and Kenna.
I thought I was making the right decision by locking down and shoving everyone aside.
I hadn’t had a community in London to back me the last time.
I hadn’t been able to trust anyone. But Braeburn was different.
It had always been different, and I should have known this community would band together to protect me and Kenna.
I should have relied on my friends and clung to the people who wanted to be there for me.
Instead, I’d pushed them all away.
I’d pushed Madison away when I should have been holding her like a lifeline in a storm.
I clenched my jaw to keep the emotion at bay, finally realizing how wrong I’d been. Not everyone was out to get me. There were people in this world who’d chosen me.
People who’d already proven repeatedly that they could be trusted.
I just had to give them the chance—and hope it wasn’t too late.