CAN’T HAVE BOTH
ELI
Eli was so fucking giddy, even his own damn dog found him irritating.
“I know, I know. Not ideal,” he told Tiny during their morning walk, when he kept glancing back with a forlorn expression, as if wondering where his new favorite human had gone. “She’ll come over
again soon.”
He was certainly going to try to lure her back tonight. And maybe it wasn’t going to be too hard—because she’d as good as acknowledged that she wanted to be with him. He knew it, and Rue knew it, too. Together, they were different. Unlike anything before—or after, he suspected. And last night she’d finally given them a fighting chance.
“Just trust me,” he told Tiny when the lovelorn puppy eyes wouldn’t stop. “And stop pining. It’s undignified.”
His morning was full of off-site meetings, and he glided through all of them. “Eli! Why do you look so much better than usual?” Anton asked him when he strode through Harkness’s lobby. Eli considered firing him on the spot at the implied insult, but the paperwork would have delayed his reunion with his one true love: texting Rue.
Which was delayed anyway, when Hark impatiently gestured him inside from the glass window of a conference room. “Do you ever pick up your damn phone?” he asked before Eli had even closed the door.
“Not during meetings, no.”
“What about when the meetings end?”
“Depends on how annoying the caller is. Are you conducting a survey pertaining to habits around electronic devices, or is there something you need to tell me?”
“It’s about Kline,” Minami said. Eli glanced at her and Sul for the first time. Noticed their serious expressions.
The tension in the room finally cut through his good mood. “What happened?”
“The documents your girlfriend gave us,” Hark said. A minute earlier, the words would have made him smile. Hark’s tone, though, gave him pause. “The lawyers went through them.”
“Already?”
“Not that time consuming. She sent precisely what we needed.” Yup, that was his girl. “And?”
Hark’s mouth twisted into a smile. “Florence’s fucked, Eli. She’s underwater on her ratios, the audited financials might as well have been written in crayon on a diner menu, and she’s got fifteen material contingencies under the couch cushions. But you know what’s fucking brilliant?”
Eli shook his head.
“The insolvency clause. If Kline is unable to meet its financial obligations or pay off its debts, the lender will be able to convert the debt into equity—or claim ownership.”
“We knew about that already.”
“But we didn’t know how bad off Kline was. And that it’s never going to be solvent by the end of the second quarter.”
“That’s June thirtieth,” Eli said unnecessarily. Everyone at the table already knew.
“Less than a week, Eli.” Hark grinned. “We got it. We really got it.” “There’s more,” Minami interrupted, sounding incongruously cautious.
Eli’s scalp tingled in alarm. “What?”
“So.” She nibbled at the inside of her cheek. “Florence knows she’s in deep shit. She might even know that Rue gave us the books—I don’t know. But she’s aware that her only choice is to pay back the loan before the quarter ends.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Hark interrupted. “There’s no way she can gather enough funds—”
“There isn’t,” Minami agreed, still looking at Eli. “That’s true. But that won’t stop her from trying, and since she’s exhausted most of her avenues, the only way for her to generate cash is by selling company assets.”
Eli pulled out a chair and sat—next to Hark, across from her. “She can’t sell the biofuel tech. It’s the collateral for the loan. So if that’s what you’re worried about—”
“That’s not what worries Minami,” Sul said, and the tingle sharpened. The energy in the room was just off. Beside him, Hark was buzzing with excitement. The others looked, at the very least, preoccupied. “There are other assets Florence is shopping around.”
“Such as?”
“Tech from side projects. Such as Rue’s microbial-coating patent.”
“She can’t. I already asked Rue about that—she has a written agreement with Florence that she will retain ownership of whatever tech . . .” he trailed off. Minami’s and Sul’s looks were pointed in a way he couldn’t misconstrue. “No. There’s no way.”
Minami just nodded. “She has a contract.”
“That was never ratified by the board.”
Eli pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.” He thought about Rue last night, the last time they’d had sex. Her slow, graceful movement against him. Her breathless laugh as he listed everything he loved about her in toe- curling detail. The serene, trusting way she’d fallen asleep in his arms.
He felt queasy.
“The contract isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on,” Sul said. “Florence can sell the patent, and she will. She has a buyer.”
The room fell into a tense silence. Eli leaned forward. “Is Rue aware?” “I doubt it. She clearly did not have the foresight to consult a lawyer or
wonder about Florence’s character. Not very smart,” Hark drawled. Eli’s head swung around, ready to fuck off ten years of friendship, but when their eyes met, Hark looked self-effacing. “Once again, she reminds me of these three assholes I know.”
“How do we know about the buyer?”
“Sheer luck, that’s how,” Hark said. “The buyer is NovaTech. And Hector Scotsville’s brother is CTO there. I met with Hector this morning to
go over some agri-tech shit, and he told me about this fun coincidence, since we’re connected with Kline.”
“Fuck.”
“Florence has been shopping around Kline’s techs and compounds for the past few weeks. According to Hector, the microbial coating was off the table until very recently.”
“Florence may know that Rue gave us the books,” Minami said. “Could it be a punishment of sorts?”
“It’s possible.” Eli ran a hand through his hair. “And they did have a . . . confrontation. It might have convinced Florence to go ahead and sell. But who the fuck buys a patent that’s not even registered yet? Why does NovaTech even want it?”
“They’re a packaging solutions company,” Sul said. “Getting rid of the competition, then.”
Hark patted him on the back. “Gold star.”
Eli shook his head. This day. This fucking day. It had started so well. Humbling, how bad it had become all of a sudden. “NovaTech is going to buy Rue’s work of years, and then they’ll trash it so they can keep on selling their packaging. All because Florence lied to Rue with a contract that was never legally binding.”
“Good recap. Infinitely shitty of Florence, but legal. Seems to be her sweet spot,” Hark said. “She’s not going to raise enough funds to buy back the loan, not even if she finds a buyer for every single piece of tech at Kline’s disposal. But the deadline’s coming up, and it’ll be fun to lie low and watch her put up the saddest lemonade stand—”
“We’re not going to do that,” Eli said. Hark blinked. “Not going to . . . ?”
“We’re not going to lie low. We’re not going to let her sell Rue’s patent. Once it’s sold, it’s gone. Even if we later get control of Kline, we won’t be able to reverse the deal.”
Sul stared at him thoughtfully. Minami and Hark, though, just exuded a combination of puzzled and pitying. “I don’t think it’s within our power to stop her,” she said gently.
Eli stood to pace. “What if we lay out our cards? Tell Florence we have the books. We know she’s in breach. We could try to negotiate with her— offer her more time if she doesn’t sell Rue’s patent, for example.”
“Hang on a minute.” Hark bolted to his feet, too. “Are you having a massive stroke you forgot to tell us about?”
Eli just stared at him.
“Because it sounds like you’re saying that we should give up our strategic advantage, an advantage that could put Kline in our hands in a matter of weeks, to stop the sale of Rue Siebert’s patent. Rue’s a very nice lady, no doubt, but also someone we’ve known for about five fucking minutes, and I’m glad that sleeping with her is working out well for you—”
“Hark,” Minami admonished.
“—but I’m not sure that just because you are gone for her, she’s someone we should consider when making decisions that will affect plans that were years in the making.”
“We’re not doing it because I’m gone for her,” Eli gritted out. “We’re doing it because it’s right.”
“How is this our goddamn business?” Hark took a step closer. Eli did the same. “We owe Rue Siebert nothing. You owe Rue Siebert nothing. You can’t tell me that you’re willing to jeopardize something that sent us to hell and back, for her. Does she even give a shit about you?”
“It’s not the damn point. What Florence is about to do to her is exactly what she did to us a decade ago.”
“And so what? For fuck’s—if you want Rue so bad, marry her. Make her have your babies. Buy her a house with thirty rooms and a private lab where she can fiddle around and develop twenty more techs. But you can’t buy her love with our dreams.” Hark had been loud, but his voice dropped back to a menacing tone. “You can’t have both, Eli. You either get Kline, or Rue’s patent. Which one is it?”
