“Yes,” Ella says. “The caseworker, doctor, and shrink all found abuse. The stepfather is a distant cousin to the judge, though that was not disclosed. I barely found it.”
I swallow. “Try bribing the parents first.” It still shocks me how often people give up loved ones for money.
“If that doesn’t work?” Merlin asks.
“Take them,” I say simply. We have a series of safe houses especially geared toward abused children. “I’ll get the money.”
Merlin swivels his chair, facing me and tugging on his bow tie. “Are we sure your funds will continue?”
I gulp. The subject is one we’ve avoided for months. While I do have trust funds left to me by my mother and other various relatives who have passed on, my father is the Trustee and most likely has the ability to slow the trickle of money to me should he choose.
Ella follows Merlin’s move, turning to face me. “The new industry report came out earlier today. Aquarius Social is in last position of the four social media giants, which is not good. The further you fall, the lower your . . . power and reach.”
Her concern is for us both. “I know.”
Rosalie chews on her full bottom lip. “Maybe that’s why you’ve been summoned to the board meeting. There might be a marketing plan in place.”
“I can only hope,” I whisper, feeling deep in my gut that it will not be that easy. For now, I have more people to save. “Where are we on the affordable housing initiatives in Georgia?” I’ll worry about my future, if I have one, when I step into the board meeting.
For now, I still have freedom, and I’m going to use it.
TWO
Alana
As I enter the boardroom, I’m immediately drawn to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the far wall. The sun bounces off them, not strong enough to pierce the fortified glass, but it’s the city stretching out in front of me, the vibrant Silicon Valley landscape, that catches my attention. I turn away to keep myself from walking right to the very edge and staring down the way I had as a child.
“Hello, Father,” I say.
My father looks up from a stack of papers at the head of the table, at the helm and in control as usual. Flashes of gray tinge his thick black hair, especially by his ears, accentuating his fierce jawline and even fiercer brow. There are no laugh lines near his eyes or his mouth, but time has carved her path in his skin anyway. His eyes are a deep brown, much deeper than mine, and lack the flecks of green gifted me by my mother. “Alana, good. You’re here. Sit.” He gestures toward the seat to his right.
I pause. No doubt that had been Greg’s seat. It hurts that my brother is not here. I falter and look across the table at my cousin. “Hey, Nico.”
“Alana.” He nods. While my father looks somewhat like our Italian ancestors, Nico is all Italian. Dark hair, dark eyes, muscled frame in a black suit. “You look lovely,” he says, no inflection in his voice. He’s Greg’s age and they were the best of friends.
“Thank you.” I reply in the same tone, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. I need to reach out to him, but our grief is too strong right now.
For this meeting, I’m wearing a navy blue suit with pink flowers embroidered on the skirt and understated jewelry comprised of aquamarine crystals and rose quartz stones. My talismans. As the face of the company, I know how to present myself.
“Now, Alana.” My father narrows his focus to me. Aquamarine crystals decorate his thick watch, glowing at the nearness to his skin. His talismans, too.
Taking a deep breath, I roll the heavy blue leather chair away from the thick marble table and sit, crossing my legs. I have to get a grip.
“You’re now a director,” my father says without preamble.
I jolt. “Father, I—”
“It is done.” He looks back down at a tablet he smacks on top of the papers. “I’m also considering bringing two of your distant cousins in but am still weighing the options.”
Interesting. I’ve always owned shares, and it’ll be nice to have some say in the direction of the platform now. I requested a position two years ago, but my father didn’t want to change things at that time. It’s good he’s ready now. However, I hate that Greg is dead. I will need to rearrange my schedule, which is okay. Perhaps I can somehow leverage this new job position into funneling additional funds to the Backpack program. Or I could build several more houses for battered women in Southern California.
“Alana,” my father says harshly.
I jerk and heat spurts into my face. Once again, I am caught daydreaming.
My father shakes his head. “Nico, you were saying?”
“I’m saying it’s a bad idea,” Nico snarls.
The vitriol in his voice catches me and I press back into my chair.
“Shall we ask Alana’s opinion?” Nico asks quietly. There’s a tone in his voice I can’t quite read, but I know I don’t like it.
I clasp my shaking hands in my lap. My rose quartz necklace begins to heat against my skin and I absorb comfort from the stone, calming myself. “How about you both stop snapping at me?” I say serenely. “As usual, I’m happy to help.”
“Good,” my father says. “Because it is time for you to step up as the sole heir to Aquarius Social and the one with the strongest connection to aquamarines. There can only be one in every generation, and you’re somehow it. As you know . . .”
A knock sounds on the door and I jump; the two men don’t move.
My father sighs and reads his watch. “Let’s get this part of the meeting finished. Come in,” he calls out.
I turn and look over my shoulder to see two people enter. The first is Wesley Whisper, who is the chief product officer for Aquarius Social. The second is Val Vicconi, our chief legal officer.
Val pulls out a chair and sits next to me while hefting a large stack of file folders in front of her. Wesley moves toward the far end of the boardroom and grasps a remote control, then turns on a screen that takes up most of the west wall.
I find him intriguing. Wesley’s about five foot nine with unruly blond hair, symmetrical features, and dark-rimmed glasses. There’s no doubt he’s the brains behind the current algorithms at Aquarius, and the stress lines cutting grooves into his forehead attest to that fact. Yeah, I’m a little jealous of him as well. I’ve always wanted to learn how to code, but my boarding school taught us manners and how to influence people and not the humdrum ability to program computers. I still need to find the time to learn.
“All right, I’ll be quick.” He sounds as if his mind is already several years ahead of us. “We’re in trouble.”
