Page 78 of Defending Love
“Art Hatfield and Lynwood Sharp are on board.”
“Grace, Rachel, and Phillip McGee?”
Damien responded, “Grace is getting up to speed. Rachel is a probably, and Phillip has only been on the board since Gloria retired. I don’t think he’ll put up too much resistance.”
“Have you discussed this with Darius?”
Damien stood. “Fuck no. He owns shares of Sinclair stock. That’s where his involvement ends.”
“You know he’d like to be on the board.”
“Not fucking going to happen.” He turned toward the tall windows.
I remembered something Damien said before dropping the bomb of putting me on the board. “What ideas does Ayers have for the future of Sinclair?”
Damien turned around. “The pharma coalition Ella heads has helped. The prescription rate of Propanolol has increased significantly. Ayers believes it could do better. He wants to create a PR campaign aimed at veterans. I see the potential.”
“I thought your plan was to spend more money on R&D, fewer payouts to stockholders, and less money on advertising.”
“It was. The bottom line could use some help.”
“So you’re going to spend money to make it?”
He nodded. “That’s the way it works.”
I pressed my lips together. “Ayers wants Sinclair to do a PR campaign aimed at veterans. I can see that as a way to aid his campaign for governor.”
Damien exhaled. “It could be mutually beneficial.”
“Problems? You never said there were problems.”
“Not problems, Dani. Forks in the road. And now with Dad gone, I’m willing to try something new.”
I stood, meeting my brother. “Why did you cash out your crypto?”
His gaze narrowed. “The fuck?”
“Why?”
“Stephen advised that the crypto market is too unstable and uncertain. I’d made some decent profits and with the way the economy is going, I decided to put that money into a more secure venture.”
“You reinvested it?”
“I did.”
“In what?”
“Sinclair Pharmaceuticals.”
I blinked. “You put five million of your own money in Sinclair Pharmaceuticals?”
Damien looked at Eli and back to me. “I’m not sure how you know that, but yes.”
Eli stood. “Can you produce the receipts?”
My brother squared his shoulders. “I can. I don’t need to. What the actual fuck?”
I stepped between the two men. “Those fake FBI agents, Damien. They were hired by someone. We hypothesize that they were hired by the same person who paid for Dad’s murder.”
