Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers Book 3) by Ahren Sanders (books to read for teens .txt) 📗

“He knows. His people knew the minute she landed. But like me, we don’t know where she is or what she’s doing.”

“He should have told me.”

“Possibly, but I’m more worried about how’s she’s living. She’s not using her credit cards, which means she’s found some other form of survival. No one can go weeks without some kind of financial support.”

“Maybe she has friends floating her ass.”

“Possibly, or she’s found a gullible sugar daddy.”

“Evin?” Tessa pokes her head through the door. “Mr. Sanchez is here.” Her use of his formal name is a sign things aren’t right.

“I’ve got to go but will call you later.” I disconnect, stand, and put on my jacket.

Tessa shows him in, and I note his rigid demeanor. He takes my hand firmly, barely looking me in the eye. I motion for him to sit and wait for him to speak.

“Evin, this isn’t easy, but out of respect for our relationship I felt it should be done in person.”

“What should be done?”

“I’m moving my investments and money from this bank.”

I remain straight-faced, showing no emotion. “That’s a big decision, considering you’ve been with us for over a decade.”

“I’ve recently lost faith in the dedication, leadership, and integrity of your team.”

“That doesn’t sound like a disappointment in the bank; it sounds like a personal dig at me and my leadership.”

“Maybe it is. What’s happened to my investments in the last quarter is unacceptable.”

“Would you care to explain?”

He blows out a breath, his arrogance slipping as he leans, placing his elbows on his knees. “I’ve relied on your expertise and opinion because it was well known you were the best. Listen, I’m taking a big leap here, but you need to know your reputation is headed to shit. Ever since you eloped with that performer and decided to spend all your time in Vegas, your business practices have changed.”

Eloped with that performer?

“How have they changed?” My voice scarcely contains the rage at his implication.

“Your availability is limited, your focus is elsewhere, and your clients are suffering. It’s bleeding into my investments and I’ve decided to get out before I lose another million dollars.”

I square my shoulders and spear him with a hard glare. “Now you’re spewing complete fucking bullshit. Nothing about my business practices has changed. And when the hell have you lost a million dollars?”

“I’m not stupid Evin, the statement you sent last week had a significant loss.”

I shove the folder across my desk. “Show me.”

“Don’t insult me.”

“You’re the one insulting me. Show me where the fuck you lost that money under my management.”

He opens the folder, scans over the document, and then looks back at me. “This isn’t what you sent me.”

“Sure as shit is.”

“No, it’s not. Whatever game you’re playing won’t work. I’ve already met with another firm and am ready for the transfer process.”

“Show me the loss.”

He yanks his phone out of his pocket, works the screen, and hands it over. The differences in the statements are noticeable immediately. “The statement isn’t mine. A first-grader could recognize that.”

“This was in your email.”

“It may have been in my email, but it’s not my work. That shit is sloppy. Don’t know how that attached to our correspondence, but I’d be more concerned with my email server than the shit you showed me.”

Three things hit me at once: Scottie’s concerns, Tessa’s run-in, and Tony’s description of Poppy. All mixed with Marco’s apprehension has my suspicions firing off.

“Who is she?”

“Who?”

“The woman who attended the fundraising event with you.”

“Why does that matter?”

“How long have you known her?”

“None of your business.”

“Around two weeks? She’s not from the area?”

His jaw tightens, his eyes flaring.

“I’m going out on a limb here. Brunette, attractive, sexy, confident. But this woman differs from others, she doesn’t mind the no-commitment lifestyle.”

“You want to make this ugly? You’re a pompous prick. Not too long ago, you lived the lifestyle until your ass got weak and fell for a stripper. She’s hot, I’ll give you that, but thought you had more intelligence. Bet you walked in that club and she pegged you immediately.”

Rage morphs into a fiery fury and my vision goes red. “You already have a firm to transfer your money?”

“Yes.”

“And my other meetings this week, they result from you sitting around your gentleman’s club running your mouth?”

“What others choose to do isn’t my concern. Maybe you should have been paying attention to your business.”

“Boy, she did a number on you.” I chuckle sadistically, then press the intercom. “Tessa, please join us.”

She hustles in, her face blank but eyes alert. “Yes?”

“Mr. Sanchez is moving his accounts immediately.”

“I’ll get the paperwork ready. Where should I send it?”

I raise an eyebrow to him in question.

“Is this how you respond when your largest client fires you?”

“You’re not my largest client, and I’m firing you.” My attention goes back to Tessa. “Also, cancel the other meetings this week. Send them termination of service and transfer instructions as well. Let them know my staff will be available for the transition.”

Her face remains stoic; however, I don’t miss the twitch in her lips. “Absolutely. Anything else?”

“Yes, send me the most updated inquiries. We now have six unexpected openings.”

She turns, but not before I catch the full on smile.

Tony’s expression is steely. “You are an arrogant son of a bitch.”

I open my video file on my desktop and turn the monitor to him. “See anyone familiar?”

“What the hell is that?”

“From your reaction, I’m guessing it’s your new fuck buddy. This video was taken in Vegas over a month ago.”

“Vegas?” He squints, leaning in. “Is that Isaac Blake?”

“The one and only.”

“What is he doing?”

“Right at that instant, he’s falling back in love with my wife. Now the asshole’s on speed dial, and it looks like I’ll have to make a call today. You and he have something in common; you’ve both been seduced by the devil. She conned him as well, but she’s upped her game. Natasha uses the old-fashioned way of persuasion to get a man to heel. Guess you’re not as untouchable