Page 61 of Parting Shot

“You said they actually more than support you. They want you to settle down.”

“Yes.”

“Like I said earlier, you can tell them to go to hell.”

“I could do that.” He nodded, and then his breath hitched as I yanked him forward again, grinding my groin up against his ass.

“But?”

“But”—he picked up the conversation as his eyes fluttered—“they really do need to know that the CEO and the man who now owns fifty-one percent of the company—since I bought out my father’s shares—is a grown-up.”

“How did you get your father’s shares?” I was interested to know.

“Max had some proxy shares from his mother that he couldn’t afford to⁠—”

“You and Max have different mothers?”

“Yes. We’re ten years apart after all,” he explained as he traced a fingertip over the cord down the side of my neck. “Not that there weren’t wives between my mother and his.”

“Wives? Plural?”

He chuckled. “My father’s been married seven times.”

“Holy shit.”

“God, I love talking to you. Things I take for granted, you find so interesting.”

“Seven times?” I went on. “Imagine the alimony!”

“Oh, baby, only my mother got that. She was the only one he’d married without the prenup. He learned his lesson.”

I digested that. “Sorry I interrupted. Go on about how you got the fifty-one percent.”

“Well, as I said, I bought Max’s mother’s shares since she had some investments she wanted to make, and some board members had shares my father didn’t know about because they were held through shell corporations and other third-party sites. Because he needed capital last year to finance some real estate purchases, he sold some of his personal shares to people he thought were loyal.”

“But they sold those shares to you without him knowing?”

“Yes.”

“Out of the kindness of their hearts?”

“No, love,” he said, curling sideways to kiss along the line of my jaw, his nose brushing over my stubble-covered cheek. “It’s business, and it’s not pretty.”

“You’re evil, is what you’re telling me.”

He shrugged, his hand cupping my chin as he nibbled on the patch of skin under my ear. “I’m determined to get what I want.”

“And so now, who owns what?”

“As I said, I have fifty-one percent of the company, our investors own forty-six, which is what my board oversees, and Max owns the other three percent.”

“Max?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” I was confused. “Why didn’t Max’s mother just give him her shares?”

“He didn’t have the money or collateral to buy them from her.”