“Stop!” comes a loud cry.
Everyone stops talking at once.
“Just stop,” Maeve says quieter, taking a step backward. Then another. “I can’t do this. I can’t.”
Right after, she leaps around in the air and takes off running toward the bungalows.
“Maeve!” Mr. and Mrs. Wrong yell at the same time. “Get back here!”
“Shut up,” I bark at them, not thinking how Mr. Wrong’s reaction can influence my future. Oddly, I don’t give a fuck.
“Excuse me!” The mother rears back as if I’ve offended her very being.
I don’t grant her a response but kick out of my shoes and take off after Maeve. Should have ditched them a long time ago—Maeve would say that only douchebags wear shoes on the beach.
I find her rushing toward our suites.
“Maeve,” I call out calmly, making her glance at me quickly and pick up the pace toward her destination. So I repeat, “Maeve. I have a proposition for you.”
She laughs with her back still to me. “Yeah, I’ve heard.”
“A different proposition. You might like it.”
That makes her pause but still not turn to me. I take it as a good sign and walk up to her rigid statue.
“If we get married, I’ll give you power.”
She snorts. I keep going.
“Real power. Money. Freedom. You can do as you please with it. Including showing your parents what pieces of shit they are.” I walk around to face her and look deep into her eyes, seeing what she really wants. “Fuck, burn down the whole society for all I care.”
Her eyes dart to my face. I knew it would catch her interest.
“They think they can control you and your life. But watch what you can do when you have my name and free access to my money.”
Her intense, blue eyes watch mine almost without blinking.
“Why would you promise that? We don’t even like each other.”
“We don’t have to like each other. I need my company back, and you need to get away from them. It’s a win-win. We can make a contract. In fact,” I pull my phone from my pocket, “I already have one. Just read it through and make changes.”But don’t spend too much time reading.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” I nod. “I want my company back.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you want your company so badly that you’re ready to sign your life away just like that?”
I feel anger stirring inside, but it’s not toward her. She’s asking a valid question. The right question.
“I want to prove to my father that he made a mistake.”
“By inviting the board?”
I try to mask my surprise that she’s figured this out so fast. “Yes. He didn’t trust me to keep the company afloat, so he opened it up for investors and gaveaway the voting power. The majority of it,” I sigh. “They were waiting for the right moment to strike to take the rest from us.”
