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She sat at her desk for a moment, too stunned to do much of anything. What had happened? What on earth would leave him that crushed?
Maybe it was the hormones. Maybe it was employee loyalty. Maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, she found herself on her feet and walking into his office without even knocking.
Chadwick was sitting at his desk. He had his head in his hands as if they were the only things supporting his entire weight. He’d shed his suit coat, and he looked smaller for having done it.
When she shut the door behind her, he started talking but he didn’t lift his head. “She won’t sign off on it. She wants more money. Everything is finalized except how much alimony she gets.”
“How much does she want?” Serena had no business asking, but she did anyway.
“Two hundred and fifty.” The way he said it was like Serena was pulling an arrow out of his back.
She blinked at him. “Two hundred and fifty dollars?” She knew that wasn’t the right answer. Chadwick could afford that. But the only other option was...
“Thousand. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“A year?”
“A month. She wants three million a year. For the rest of her life. Or she won’t sign.”
“But that’s—that’s insane! No one needs that much to live!” The words burst out of her a bit louder than she meant them to, but seriously? Three million dollars a year forever? Serena wouldn’t earn that much in her entire lifetime!
Chadwick looked up, a mean smile on his face. “It’s not about the money. She just wants to ruin me. If I could pay that much until the end of time, she’d double her request. Triple it, if she thought it would hurt me.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. I never cheated on her, never did anything to hurt her. I tried...” His words trailed off as he buried his face in his hands.
“Can’t you just buy her out? Make her an up-front offer she can’t refuse?” Serena had seen him do that before, with a micro-brew whose beers were undercutting Beaumont’s Percheron Drafts line of beers. Chadwick had let negotiations drag on for almost a week, wearing down the competitors. Then he walked in with a lump sum that no sane person would walk away from, no matter how much they cared about the “integrity” of their beer. Everyone had a price, after all.
“I don’t have a hundred million lying around. It’s tied up in investments, property...the horses.” He said this last bit with an edge, as if the company mascots, the Percherons, were just a thorn in his side.
“But—you have a pre-nup, right?”
“Of course I have a pre-nup,” he snapped. She flinched, but he immediately sagged in defeat again. “I watched my father get married and divorced four times before he died. There’s no way I wouldn’t have a pre-nup.”
“Then how can she do that?”
“Because.” He grabbed at his short hair and pulled. “Because I was stupid and thought I was in love. I thought I had to prove to her that I trusted her. That I wasn’t my father. She gets half of what I earned during our marriage. That’s about twenty-eight million. She can’t touch the family fortune or any of the property—none of that. But...”
Serena felt the blood drain from her face. “Twenty-eight million?” That was the kind of money people in her world only got when they won the lottery. “But?”
“My lawyers had put in a clause limiting how much alimony would be paid, for how long. The length of the marriage, fifty thousand a month. And I told them to take it out. Because I wouldn’t need it. Like an idiot.” That last bit came out so harshly—he really did believe that this was his fault.
She did some quick math. Chadwick had gotten married near the end of her first year at Beaumont Brewery—her internship year. The wedding had been a big thing, obviously, and the brewery had even come out with a limited-edition beer to mark the occasion.
That was slightly more than eight years ago. Fifty thousand—still an absolutely insane number—times twelve months times eight years was...only $4.8 million. And somehow, that and another $28 million wasn’t enough. “Isn’t there...anything you can do?”
“I offered her one fifty a month for twenty years. She laughed. Laughed.” Serena knew the raw desperation in his voice.
Oh, sure, she’d never been in the position of losing a fortune, but there’d been plenty of desperate times back when she was growing up.
Back then, she’d just wanted to know it was going to be okay. They’d have a safe place to sleep and a big meal to eat. To know she’d have both of those things the next day, too.
She never got those assurances. Her mother would hum “One Day At a Time” over and over when they had to stuff their meager things into grocery bags and move again. Then they finally got the little trailer and didn’t have to move any more—but didn’t have enough to pay for both electricity and water.
One day at a time was a damn fine sentiment, but it didn’t put food on the table and clothes on her back.
There had to be a way to appease Chadwick’s ex, but Serena had no idea what it was. Such battles were beyond her. She might have worked for Chadwick Beaumont for over seven years, might have spent her days in this office, might have attended balls and galas, but this was not her world. She didn’t know what to say about someone who wasn’t happy with just $32.8 million.
But she could sympathize with staring at a bill that could never be paid—a bill that, no matter how hard your mom worked as a waitress at the diner or how many overtime shifts as a janitor your dad pulled, would never, ever end. Not even when her parents had filed for bankruptcy had it truly ended, because whatever little credit they’d been able to use as a cushion disappeared. She loved her parents—and they loved each other—but the sinking hopelessness that went with never having enough...
That’s not how she was going to live. She didn’t wish it on anyone, but especially not on Chadwick.
She moved before she was aware of it, her steps muffled by the carpeting. She knew it would be a lie, but all she had to offer were platitudes that tomorrow was a new day.
She didn’t hesitate when she got to the desk. In all of the time she’d spent in this office, she’d never once crossed the plane of the desk. She’d sat in front of the massive piece of furniture, but she’d never gone around it.
Today she did. Maybe it was the hormones again, maybe it was the way Chadwick had spoken to her yesterday in that low voice—promising to take care of her.
She saw the tension ripple through his back as she stepped closer. The day before, she’d been upset and he’d touched her. Today, the roles were reversed.
She put her hand on his shoulder. Through the shirt, she felt the warmth of his body. That’s all. She didn’t even try to turn him as he’d turned her. She just let him know she was there.
He shifted and, pulling his opposite hand away from his face, reached back to grab hers. Yesterday, he’d had all the control. But today? Today she felt they were on equal footing.
She laced their fingers together, but that was as far as it went. She couldn’t make the same kinds of promises he had—she couldn’t take care of him when she wasn’t even sure how she was going to take care of her baby. But she could let him know she was there, if he needed her.
She chose not to think about exactly what that might mean.
“Serena,” Chadwick said, his voice raw as his fingers tightened around hers.
She swallowed. But before she could come up with a response, there was a knock on the door and in walked Matthew Beaumont, Vice President of Public Relations for the Beaumont Brewery. He looked a little like Chadwick—commanding build, the Beaumont nose—but where Chadwick and Phillip were lighter, sandier blondes, Matthew had more auburn coloring.
Serena tried to pull her hand free, but Chadwick wouldn’t let her go. It was almost as if he wanted Matthew to see them touching. Holding hands.
It was one thing to stick a toe over the business-professional line when it was just her and Chadwick in the office—no witnesses meant it hadn’t really happened, right? But Matthew was no idiot.
“Am I interrupting?” Matthew asked, his eyes darting between Serena’s face, Chadwick’s face, and their interlaced hands.
Of course, Serena would rather take her chances with Matthew than with Phillip Beaumont. Phillip was a professional playboy who flaunted his wealth and went to a lot of parties. As far as Serena could tell, Phillip might be the kind of guy who wouldn’t have stopped at a simple touch the day before. Of course, with his gorgeous looks, he probably had plenty of invitations to keep going.
Matthew was radically different from either of his brothers. Serena guessed that was because his mother was Hardwick’s second wife, but Matthew was always working hard, as if he were trying to prove he belonged at the brewery. But he did so without the intimidation that Chadwick could wear like a second skin.
With a quick squeeze, Chadwick released her hand and she took a small step back. “No,” Chadwick said. “We’re done here.”
For some inexplicable reason, the words hurt. She didn’t know why. She had no good reason for him to defend their touch to his half brother. She had absolutely no reason why she would want Chadwick to defend their relationship—because they didn’t have one outside of boss and trusted employee.
She gave a small nod of her head that she wasn’t sure either of them saw, and walked out of his office.
* * *
Minutes passed. Chadwick knew that Matthew was sitting on the other side of the desk, no doubt waiting for something, but he wasn’t up for that just yet.
Helen was out to ruin him. If he knew why, he’d try to make it up to her. But hadn’t that pretty much described their marriage? She got her nose bent out of shape, Chadwick had no idea why, but he did his damnedest to make it up to her? He bought her diamonds. She liked diamonds. Then he added rubies to the mix. He’d thought it made things better.
It hadn’t. And he was more the fool for thinking it had.
He replayed the conversation with Serena. He hadn’t talked much about his divorce to anyone, beyond informing his brothers that it was a problem that would be taking up some measure of his time. He didn’t know why he’d told Serena it was his fault that negotiations had gotten to this point.
All he knew was that he’d had to tell someone. The burden of knowing that this whole thing was a problem he’d created all by himself was more than he could bear.
And she’d touched him. Not like he’d touched her, no, but not like she’d ever touched him before. More than a handshake, that was for damn sure.
When was the last time a woman had touched him aside from the business handshakes that went with the job? Helen had moved out of the master bedroom almost two years before. Not since before then, if he was being honest with himself.
Matthew cleared his throat, which made Chadwick look up. “Yes?”
“If I thought you were anything like our father,” Matthew began, his voice walking the fine line between sympathetic and snarky, “I’d assume you were working on wife number two.”
Chadwick glared at the man. Matthew was only six months younger than Chadwick’s younger brother, Phillip. It had taken several more years before Hardwick’s and Eliza’s marriage had crumbled, and Hardwick had married Matthew’s mother, Jeannie, but once Chadwick’s mother knew about Jeannie, the end was just a matter of time.
Matthew was living proof that Hardwick Beaumont had been working on wife number two long before he’d left wife number one.
“I haven’t gotten rid of wife number one yet.” Even as he said it, though, Chadwick flinched. That was something his father would have said. He detested sounding like his father. He detested being like his father.
“Which only goes to illustrate how you are not like our father,” Matthew replied with an easy-going grin, the same grin that all the Beaumont men had. A lingering gift from their father. “Hardwick wouldn’t have cared. Marriage vows meant nothing to him.”
Chadwick nodded. Matthew spoke the truth and Chadwick should have taken comfort in that. Funny how he didn’t.
“I take it Helen is not going quietly into the night?”
Chadwick hated his half brother right then. True, Phillip—Chadwick’s full brother, the only person who knew what it was like to have both Hardwick and Eliza Beaumont as parents—wouldn’t have understood either. But Chadwick hated sitting across from the living symbol of his father’s betrayal of both his wife and his family.
It was a damn shame that Matthew had such a good head for public relations. Any other half relative would have found himself on the street long ago, and then Chadwick wouldn’t have had to face his father’s failings as a man and a husband on a daily basis.
He wouldn’t have had to face his own failings on a daily basis.
“Buy her out,” Matthew said simply.
“She doesn’t want money. She wants to hurt me.” There had to be something wrong with him, he decided. Since when did he air his dirty laundry to anyone—including his executive assistant, including his half brother?
He didn’t. His personal affairs were just that, personal.
Matthew’s face darkened. “Everyone has a price, Chadwick.” Then, in an even quieter voice, he added, “Even you.”
He knew what that was about. The whole company was on pins and needles about AllBev’s buyout offer. “I’m not going to sell our company tomorrow.”
Matthew met his stare head-on. Matthew didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. “You’re not the only one with a price, you know. Everyone on that board has a price, too—and probably a far sight less than yours.” Matthew paused, looking down at his tablet. “Anyone else would have already made the deal. Why you’ve stuck by the family name for this long has always escaped me.”
“Because, unlike some people, it’s the only name I’ve ever had.”
Everything about Matthew’s face shut down, which made Chadwick feel like an even bigger ass. He remembered his parents’ divorce, remembered Hardwick marrying Jeannie Billings—remembered the day Matthew, practically the same age as Phillip, had come to live with them. He’d been Matthew Billings until he was five. Then, suddenly, he was Matthew Beaumont.
Chadwick had tortured him mercilessly. It was Matthew’s fault that Eliza and Hardwick had fallen apart. It was Matthew’s fault that Chadwick’s mom had left. Matthew’s fault that Hardwick had kept custody of both Chadwick and Phillip. And it was most certainly Matthew’s fault that Hardwick suddenly hadn’t had any time for Chadwick—except to yell at him for not getting things right.
But that was a child’s cop-out and he knew it. Matthew had been just a kid. As had Phillip. As had Chadwick. Hardwick—it had been all his fault that Eliza had hated him, had grown to hate her children.
“I’m...that was uncalled for.” Nearly a lifetime of blaming Matthew had made it damn hard to apologize to the man. So he changed the subject. “Everything ready for the gala?”
Matthew gave him a look Chadwick couldn’t quite make out. It was almost as if Matthew was going to challenge him to an old-fashioned duel over honor, right here in the office.
But the moment passed. “We’re ready. As usual, Ms. Chase has proven to be worth far more than her weight in gold.”
As Matthew talked, that phrase echoed in Chadwick’s head.
Everyone did have a price, he realized.
Even Helen Beaumont. Even Serena Chase.
He just didn’t know what that price was.
Three (#uf657ffbe-8e9c-5632-b608-49d0b8b22c04)
“The Beaumont Brewery has been run by a Beaumont for one hundred and thirty-three years,” Chadwick thundered, smacking the tabletop with his hand to emphasize his point.
Serena jumped at the sudden noise. Chadwick didn’t normally get this worked up at board meetings. Then again, he’d been more agitated—more abnormal—this entire week. Her hormones might be off, but he wasn’t behaving in a typical fashion, either.
“The Beaumont name is worth more than $52 dollars a share,” Chadwick went on. “It’s worth more than $62 a share. We’ve got one of the last family-owned, family-operated breweries left in America. We have the pleasure of working for a piece of American history. The Percherons? The beer? That’s the result of hard American work.”
There was an unsettled pause as Serena took notes. Of course there was a secretary at the meeting, but Chadwick liked to have a separate version against which he could cross-check the minutes.
She glanced up from her seat off to the side of the hotel ballroom. The Beaumont family owned fifty-one percent of the Beaumont Brewery. They’d kept a firm hand on the business for, well, forever—easily fending off hostile takeovers and not-so-hostile mergers. Chadwick was in charge, though. The rest of the Beaumonts just collected checks like any other stockholders.
She could see that some people were really listening to Chadwick—nodding in agreement, whispering to their neighbors. This meeting wasn’t a full shareholders’ meeting, so only about twenty people were in the room. Some of them were holdovers from Hardwick’s era—handpicked back in the day. They didn’t have much power beyond their vote, but they were fiercely loyal to the company.
Those were the people nodding now—the ones who had a personal stake in the company’s version of American history.
There were some members—younger, more corporate types that had been brought in to provide balance against the old-boys board of Hardwick’s era. Chadwick had selected a few of them, but they weren’t the loyal employees that worked with him on a day-to-day basis.
Then there were the others—members brought in by other members. Those, like Harper and his two protégées, had absolutely no interest in Beaumont beer, and they did nothing to hide it.
It was Harper who broke the tense silence. “Odd, Mr. Beaumont. In my version of the American dream, hard work is rewarded with money. The buyout will make you a billionaire. Isn’t that the American dream?”
Other heads—the younger ones—nodded in agreement.
Serena could see Chadwick struggling to control his emotions. It hurt to watch. He was normally above this, normally so much more intimidating. But after the week he’d had, she couldn’t blame him for looking like he wanted to personally wring Harper’s neck. Harper owned almost ten percent of this company, though. Strangling him would be frowned upon.
“The Beaumont Brewery has already provided for my needs,” he said, his voice tight. “It’s my duty to my company, my employees....” At this, he glanced up. His gaze met Serena’s, sending a heated charge between them.
