The Brighton Consortium was an Atlanta land development deal that I was actually working on through my old boss back when Jackson and I first met. It was also the deal that went completely south after Damien snatched up a huge amount of acreage, ensuring that the project couldn’t be completed. Jackson had been pissed as hell at his half-brother, and had only recently learned that the consortium’s investors were about to be buried in all sorts of fraud and racketeering allegations. Damien’s Hail Mary ploy had saved Jackson’s ass—not to mention all the others who were about to get burned.
But now I can’t help wonder if maybe Calloway didn’t know that, either. And maybe he’s been thinking of Lost Tides as a way to get back at Damien. And the sabotage as a way to ensure that Cortez floundered.
Honestly, though, I don’t give a fuck about Calloway’s motive. All I want is for the sabotage against Cortez to stop.
“Talk,” Damien says.
“I—He got Nathan on board, first. And that’s aboveboard, honest. Nathan learned what I was doing, but never did anything himself. Nothing but work on the plans.”
“But you did,” Damien says.
Trent nods. “Calloway wanted details on design, vendors, marketing plans.”
“He wanted you to spy for them,” I say.
He nods.
“They had you hack the security feed. Leak emails. All of that?” Aiden’s voice is harsh. Demanding.
“Most of it. But I told them a few weeks ago that I’d had enough. And the vandalism on the island—I didn’t have anything to do with that. I swear. They must have hired someone to go in and—”
“That’s enough,” Damien says. He turns to face me and Aiden and Jackson, as well as everyone who stands behind us, still lingering in the doorway. “Go on. I’m going to speak to Mr. Leiter alone.”
Trent looks a little sick, but he doesn’t protest.
I look at Jackson, and he nods. He looks exhausted, but I can’t help but think that he also looks relieved.
When we’re out in the hallway, with the door to Trent’s office shut behind me, he confirms that assessment. “It’s fucked up,” he says. “But at least we have an answer now.” He drags his fingers through his hair. “It’s more closure than I have in my life, that’s for damn sure.” He looks at me. “I’ll see you later. I’m going to go back to work.”
He brushes a kiss over my cheek, but before he can walk away, Evelyn stops him. “I hate to be the bearer of more bad news, but I didn’t get to finish telling you everything before our dramatic interruption.”
I catch Jackson’s eye, and I can see that he looks just as uneasy as I feel.
“Bad news?” he asks.
“Well, it’s not good. I don’t have confirmation, but rumor is that another production company is courting Graham Elliott, and he’s still keen on making the movie. I’m sorry.”
“Wait. What?” Jackson asks, as if he can’t quite make sense of her words.
“The movie,” Evelyn repeats. “Reed may be dead, but I’m afraid the movie isn’t.”
eighteen
“I can’t believe it,” Cass says Friday morning. She’s come downtown because Siobhan has a job interview at the Museum of Contemporary Art, which is just a stone’s throw from Stark Tower. Now we’re sitting outside by Java B’s coffee cart, sipping lattes and eating chocolate-filled croissants. “I met him once, didn’t I? At some work party you dragged me to?”
I’ve just finished telling her about all the drama with Trent, and I nod. “Last year’s Christmas party. He hit on you.”
“Oh, right. I let him down easy. Told him it wasn’t personal. He just had the wrong equipment.”
I hide my grin by taking a huge bite of my croissant. “I actually liked the guy. Maybe if I hadn’t, I would have seen it sooner.”
“Don’t kick yourself. It’s hard to see the worst in people. Has Damien strung him up?”
“Fired him. No references. And he called Calloway, too.”
“The one who owns Lost Tides and dragged Trent into the whole mess? Would I have loved to be a fly on the wall during that conversation?”
“I know, right?”
“Is Damien making him shut down Lost Tides?”
I shake my head. “Nope. He said he’d let the market decide—which is fine by me, because Cortez is going to kick serious butt. But he also said that if he catches even a whiff of more dirty tricks, he’ll string Calloway up by his balls. And that’s pretty much a direct quote.”
