Page 40 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

“I could eat. How about pizza?”

Pizza. Not exactly something I ate much of. Ron normally prepared all my meals, tailoring them to my personal trainer’s specifications. Ron did not make pizza. And pizza sounded fucking awesome. “That would be great.”

She pulled out her phone, quickly placing an order for delivery. Then she tucked it away and gave me her attention as I resumed my seat.

“In less than a year, I’ll be thirty-five. My family’s company, Carmichael Communications, will become mine.”

“It isn’t now?”

“Only partly. At the moment, the majority of my shares are governed by a trust. My grandmother is the executor and acting owner. But the stipulations on my trust disappear on my birthday in November. Until then, I have to play her game. Otherwise she’ll sell the company from under me. She’ll sell it before I can sell it.”

“Wait.” Aria held up a finger. “She wants to sell your company. But you want to sell your company. Spell it out for me, Carmichael. I’m too tired to read between the lines.”

“It’s complicated.” In a word. “Grandmother likes control. Maybe she’s bluffing but maybe she’s not. Selling the company is her threat. It’s the reason she can demand I show up at a wedding.”

“Ahh.” Aria nodded. “She’d sell it out of spite.”

“Exactly. And in doing so, almost every employee would lose their job.”

“They wouldn’t if you sold it?”

I shook my head. “Not if I find the right buyer. Carmichael Communications is a small player in the scope of telecommunications companies, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have some pull. If I sold or partnered with a larger company, we could turn it into something that might change the world.”

There were innovative companies looking to acquire resources like the ones we had at Carmichael. Our research and development team had made some amazing tech in the area of satellite communications and internet capabilities.

“How does all of this require you live in Arizona?”

“We have a small R&D office in Welcome along with a data warehouse. I’ve moved my best employees out of Vegas to Arizona, where I can focus our efforts on the developments that position us for the big sale. If I leave Welcome, my grandmother will insist we shut the site down and move it all back to Vegas. I don’t want her to know what we’re doing. So far, I’ve managed to keep it quiet. It works because I’m there. She trusts that my incentives are to make the company flourish. After all, I’m inheriting it. That’s why my grandfather set it up that way in the first place.”

Aria frowned. “Complicated. I’m not a fan of your grandmother.”

“You and me both. But I have to play nice. It’s a game I can’t lose.”

“I don’t play games.”

No, she didn’t. “My grandmother is the most tenacious woman you’ll ever meet. Her greatest pleasure is control. Like I said, maybe she’s bluffing. But there are hundreds of employees, including your sister, who can’t take the chance that she’s not.”

Aria closed her eyes. “What a mess.”

“You have no idea.”

“And your brother? Is he part of the mess too?”

“He’s never worked at Carmichael. Probably because he never got along with my grandfather.”

“But you did?”

“In a way.” My relationship with Grandfather hadn’t been one of love and loyalty. He had been just as ruthless as Grandmother, probably why their marriage had lasted. He hadn’t liked Alastair because my brother was lazy and entitled.

Aria blew out a long breath. “Arizona.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask.” I leaned my elbows on my knees. I’d drop to them if need be. “Please. Consider it. I don’t . . . I don’t want my—our—child hating me because I wasn’t there.”

There hadn’t been many times in my life when I’d needed a parent—I’d always been fairly self-sufficient and, after all, I’d had employees as my keepers. But there’d been a handful of times when I’d wanted a parent sitting in the auditorium, like my high school and college graduations. To this day, I resented them for their absence.

I refused to be that kind of father.

Aria’s gaze softened. Maybe she’d heard the truth in my words. She’d realized it was a confession of the life I’d lived. And there was sympathy in her eyes because her parents hadn’t been there either.