Somewhere out there, William Harrington was about to have his evening ruined. I wondered if he’d make the connection immediately or if it would take him a while to realize that the garbage he dismissed controlled the one thing his company needed to survive the next fiscal year.

My phone buzzed, Quinn calling. I let it go to voicemail, not trusting myself to separate my anger at his father from my love for him. He didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire.

But some battles couldn’t be avoided.

By morning, my phone had logged 47 missed calls. William had tried reaching me six times himself, which must have been killing him.

The great William Harrington reduced to repeatedly calling someone he declared garbage.

I was reviewing quarterly reports over breakfast when Danielle called.

“The financial press got wind of the terminated merger. Bloomberg wants a statement.”

“Tell them Cross Technologies has decided to explore other opportunities that better align with our values and vision for the future.”

“Vague and devastating. I love it.”

She paused.

“Also, William Harrington is in the lobby.”

I nearly spit out my coffee.

“He’s here.”

“Showed up 20 minutes ago. Security won’t let him up without your approval, but he’s making quite a scene. Should I have him removed?”

I set down my mug, thinking.

“Send him up, but make him wait in the conference room for, let’s say, 30 minutes. I’m finishing breakfast.”

“You’re evil. I’ll prep conference room C, the one with the uncomfortable chairs.”

45 minutes later, I walked into the conference room to find William Harrington looking significantly less imposing than he had the night before.

His usually perfect hair was disheveled. His tailored suit rumpled. The man who’d lorded over dinner like a king now looked like what he was, a desperate CEO watching his company’s future evaporate.

“Zapira,” he stood when I entered, and I could see how much it cost him. “Thank you for seeing me.”

I sat down without offering him a handshake.

“You have five minutes.”

He swallowed his pride like broken glass.

“I apologized for last night. My words were inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate?”

I laughed.

“You called me garbage in front of your entire social circle. You humiliated me in your own home, at your own table, while I was there as your guest and your son’s girlfriend.”

“I was drunk.”

“No,” I cut him off. “You were honest. Drunk words, sober thoughts. You thought I was beneath you from the moment Quinn introduced us last night. You just finally said it out loud.”

William’s jaw tightened. Even now, even desperate, he couldn’t fully hide his disdain.

“What do you want? An apology? You have it. A public statement? I’ll make one. Just the merger needs to happen. You know it does.”

“Why?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why does it need to happen? Explain to me why I should do business with someone who fundamentally disrespects me.”

William’s face flushed.

“Because it’s business. It’s not personal.”

“Everything is personal when you make it personal.”

I stood up.

“You researched me, right? Dug into my background, found out about the foster homes, the free lunch programs, the night shifts at warehouses to pay for textbooks.”

He nodded reluctantly.

“But you stopped there. You saw where I came from and assumed that to find me. You never looked at where I was going.”