He had no fucking clue what he was talking about when it came to my sales. Because, if he did, he’d have known that I sold Rubicon to the military for a quarter of what he was offering me. But the difference was the military wasn’t using my product in flak jackets and then selling it at four times what they’d paid, which was exactly what Wells was planning to do.
The Army was using it to save lives. If I hadn’t had employees who needed to be paid, I would have given it to the government at cost. I’d watched too many good soldiers die during my time in service not to want our men and women equipped with the very best. I would have loved to arm our police forces with it as well, but that did not mean giving my product away so another company could profit from it.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have the facility readily available to make the body armor. And Wells didn’t have my product. We were at a stalemate.
He couldn’t afford me. And I couldn’t go at it alone—at least, not yet.
The good news for me was that Rubicon had dozens of other uses that kept our bank accounts overflowing. And, as far as I knew, bulletproof vests were a rather niche market.
He needed me far more than I’d ever need him.
“This is ludicrous!” Wells growled.
I nodded matter-of-factly. “I agree. Now, get the hell out and don’t come back unless you’re ready to sign my contracts. No revisions.”
His eyes burned into me as he finally moved toward the door, pausing just before leaving. “You know, I expected more from you. Former soldier, now CEO. I love a rags-to-riches story just as much as the next guy. It does the whole world well to be reminded that hard work pays off. But then there are men like you who disgrace us all by allowing the money and power to go to your head. It’d do you well to remember where you came from, because if you keep this up, I have a feeling you’ll be back in that dingy garage lab sooner than you think.”
My lips thinned, but I took a step forward, once again extending my hand for a shake. “Then perhaps it’s good that I’ll have you to save me a spot in the unemployment line.”
The vein in his forehead bulged as he nearly vibrated with anger. “You—”
Turning, I gave him my back and strolled back to my desk. “Have a good day, Simon.”
Moments later, the door to my office slammed and my whole body sagged.
“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.”
The intercom on my phone buzzed immediately. “Mr. Leblanc, your sister is on line one. She’s been calling for the last hour and says it’s important.”
Fucking great. I loved my sister, but Kristen had exactly two speeds in our relationship: bitch at me or bitch to me. And, considering we’d had dinner the night before and she’d bitched to me for nearly three hours about a dickhead she’d slept with and then he hadn’t returned her calls, I figured her calling with something important meant I was going to get bitched at.
I groaned, preparing for whatever shitstorm she was about to drop at my feet.
“What’s up, Kit-Kat?” I asked, after lifting the receiver to my ear.
“Oh, don’t you dare ‘Kit-Kat’ me.”
Yep. Bitch-at-me mode.
I switched the phone to my other ear and wedged it against my shoulder as I fired my computer up. “I’m seriously not in the mood to take your shit tonight. I’ve had an old man up my ass all fucking day. I really don’t need you joining him.”
“I just got off the phone with Elisabeth. She’s getting remarried.”
My body solidified, causing the phone to fall from my ear. Scrambling after it, I ignored the way my chest constricted.
I reminded myself that it was what I’d always wanted for her—to find someone who made her happy and could give her the things I never could. I just hadn’t considered how much it’d hurt when it finally happened.
Slowly lifting the phone back to my ear, I licked my lips and opened my mouth, but not a single word escaped.
“Roman?” she probed.
I cleared my throat, strapping on the false bravado. “Good for her. This is important to me how?”
“You have to stop sending her checks. Her fiancé is livid about it.”
Now, that made me smile. “Sounds like a personal problem. That money is hers. If her man has a problem with her past, I’d be happy to have a talk with him. Set him straight.” Before I killed him.
I swear I heard her roll her eyes from across the line.
“Right,” she said. “Just what every woman wants. The new guy having a chat with the old guy. Especially when the old guy is still in love with you.”
“I’m not still in love with her,” I growled. That would imply I’d ever been out of love with her. “And this is not my problem. So, if that’s all you called to say, I need to get back to work.” Or, more likely, down a bottle of scotch.
“Damn it, Roman. Okay. I lied. She’s not getting remarried. After the shit you pulled, I’m doubting she ever will.”
The second sucker-punch hit me square in the gut. I hated the idea of Elisabeth actually moving on with someone new, but I hated the idea of her being alone even more.