Dirty Together (Page 36)

A titter rolls through the room, and I pause for a moment to let them absorb my comment before I continue.

“I’m a man in love with an amazing woman, and while that argument will not hold weight in a court of law, in a court of public opinion, I think it makes perfect sense. The purchase of Homegrown was meant to be a surprise belated wedding present for my new wife, so I acted quickly, and perhaps without thinking things through in my normal logical fashion, because I wanted to do it before my beautiful, intelligent bride realized what I was doing.”

I’m pretty sure every female in the crowd is now sighing. Glancing up from the podium, I see Holly standing in the back corner, and she’s lifting a hand to her face and dabbing at the underside of her eye.

I don’t try to hold the smile back. “So, there you go. That’s the explanation I have for you. Now I’ll take your questions.”

The flurry starts, but a booming voice cuts through the din. “You really think that ridiculous explanation is going to matter? Not likely, Creighton. I thought you were smarter than that.”

With that, my uncle Damon turns on his heel and leaves the room.

I spend over an hour answering investor questions before my portion of the presentation is over. Holly is waiting at the back of the auditorium, and I stride to where she stands and pull her into my arms.

“You know how to give one hell of a speech, Crey,” she says, speaking in muffled words into my chest.

“I meant every word of it.”

“Is Homegrown really my wedding present?”

I loosen my grip and step back a fraction so I can look down into her eyes. “Yes. It was always for you.”

Her brow furrows, concern shading her eyes. “Does that mean you expect me to run it?”

“If you want to; you can do whatever you want. The management team I’ve got in place now is starting to turn things around, but if you want to get involved with the business side of things, you’re more than welcome.”

I pause to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “I think that’d be sexy as fuck, if you want to know the truth . . . my wife, the CEO, running her own empire.”

I groan as my dick jerks against my zipper. Not the time or the place, buddy. A small smile spreads over Holly’s face, which doesn’t help matters.

“Crey.”

The sound of Cannon’s voice, however, deflates my hard-on. Holly called it when she referred to him as a cock-blocker. Releasing Holly with one arm, I turn.

“What do you need?”

“What are you going to do about Damon?”

“Besides take a hit out on him?”

Cannon’s eyes widen only slightly. “I know a guy.”

“Jesus. Fuck, Cannon. I’m joking.”

He shrugs. “Desperate times.”

“And that’s called conspiracy, and I don’t care to find out the New York prison system’s policy on conjugal visits.”

At this, Holly snorts. “Can I second that?”

A tall, thin black man approaches us. He’s the associate from the conference room who made the “Oh no, he didn’t” comment when Holly walked in.

“Mr. Karas, Mr. Cramer wanted to run one more idea by you, given your uncle’s latest outburst. Could we have a few minutes of your time in the conference room across the hall?”

I look to Holly, and she says, “Crey, do your thing. I’ll be waiting. I’m feeling an epic song about revenge coming on, à la Carrie Underwood’s ‘Two Black Cadillacs’ or maybe ‘Good-bye, Earl.’”

Leaning down, I brush a kiss across her cheek. “I love you, woman. I’ll be right back.”

“Give ’em hell. And I love you too.”

I follow Cannon and the associate—I really need to get his name—to the conference room across the hall from the auditorium.

My lawyer, Cramer is waiting, and he looks less than amused. I suppose it’s lucky that he works for me and not the other way around.

“Save your breath, Cramer. You didn’t approve before, and you don’t approve now. I also know you’re not going to approve of what I’m going to do next.”

“And what’s that, Mr. Karas?” he asks, the skepticism in his tone thinly veiled.

One of the largest negative aspects of this suit is the element of fear that has slipped away from my persona. This will be remedied. I’m Creighton fucking Karas, and the world will not question my judgment again when this is over.

“My uncle may be brave enough to take me on in front of a crowd, but we’ll see how he feels about taking me on man-to-man.”

The lawyer’s silver eyebrows hit his equally silver hairline. “That’s highly inadvisable.”

“Consider it a family matter and none of your concern.” My words carry the unmistakable weight of authority.

He swallows. “Mr. Karas, we have your best interests in mind here. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course, Mr. Cramer, but sometimes the only thing a bully understands is a bigger bully. It’s time the gloves come off. I’m done with his bullshit.”

“You’re not going to listen to a logical, reasoned argument, no matter what I say, are you?”

“There’s no reasoning with my uncle, so no. Save your breath.”

“Fine.” Cramer nods. “We’ll leave you to it. Please call us if we can be of further assistance.”

I turn and head for the door. “Cannon, walk out with me?”

He’s on my heels as we hit the threshold.