62| Collateral Damage

MICHELLE Cunningham did her pilates thing or whatever on the first day of January at 7 in the morning. Gross. But I got up early knowing that she had plans to get breakfast at the place right next to her pilates studio. Probably all before she went into C&C HQ to do whatever the hell it was she planned on doing with that flash drive.

Little did she know, I had a copy on my phone along with a picture of her kissing Lance Weaver.

"And this is okay to do on your own?" Butler asked. He asked about a thousand fucking times this morning. Because he insisted on picking me up to make things easier, and he said it was wrong to let me go alone. Even if I was technically going in to talk to Mrs. Cunningham on my own. And I kept telling him to drop me off and let it be, but he didn't like that either.

He was just a good guy. And he was being so fucking nice to me despite the fact that he knew nothing more was going to happen between us. No more hidden kisses like last night in the supply closet. And maybe, I can admit, I kissed him one more time when I walked him out of C&C HQ. I shouldn't have done it. We were in public, though there was no one around at the time.

The point was that it wouldn't, couldn't happen again.

But of course when Butler dropped me off, he had to go and touch my arm before I could get out of the car.

"Maybe you shouldn't do this," Butler said. "You're going to be announced as the future owner of your family's company tomorrow. You should be able to celebrate that."

"I'll be able to celebrate it. Nothings gonna happen," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling it off my arm. "I'm just here to talk. And blackmail. Simple, isn't it?"

"Maybe it would be better if someone went with you," he said.

I scoffed. "Not you. Don't get involved more than I've asked you to."

"Thought you weren't worried about collateral damage."

"I'm not worried about my collateral damage," I corrected. "Stop distracting me. Yet again. You're really bad at that, you know?"

"You mean, I'm very good at distracting you." He reached out and straightened my collar, which unwound me. "I am going to be out here whether you like it or not. Maybe this isn't my battle to fight and you want me to go for that reason. But maybe it isn't your battle either. You're just the only one who understands how to fight it."

Looking at Butler, hearing his sincere words, made my heart stop beating out of my chest. There was something in the tone of his voice, in the way he put words together, the way he was so goddamn calm all of the time. He made the most intense situations  sound decent. And when Butler reaches forward to fold myself into his arms, I let out a breath of relief. A release of all the anxiety I'd been hiding inside of myself due to the mere thought of confronting Mrs. Montgomery. I didn't want anyone to know how anxious I really was. Because I guess that was a part of who I was:

Putting on acts and facades that all is perfectly well.

I moved away from his grasp. Bad idea and all.

"You're infuriatingly good at distractions," I muttered and Butler barely smiled. I put my hand on the door before I opened it. "If it's any consolation, I'm glad you're so good at distracting me. And it's okay if you stay. But just know that I'm gonna be fucking fine."

"I know."

I rolled my eyes. It felt like a defense mechanism against Butler's smile. So that I wouldn't melt or some shit.

I opened the car door and stepped out, glancing over at him one more time. He nodded at me with his usual sheepish smile, and I shut the door and headed for the front doors of the breakfast place next to the pilates studio. A place called Sunday on 5th, which I knew was a pretty famous brunch spot. Right when I walked in, the place was crowded with families, well-dressed businessmen and women, quite a few women who looked like they may have just came from pilates, and just a bunch of people in general.

My heart was calmer thanks to Butler, his arms around me, hands on my back, fingers splaying open and closed delicately over the fabric of my shirt. Yeah, I wasn't as anxious. But the speed of my heartbeat picked up almost instantly when I spotted her:

In a matching gym outfit, all mint green, and with her hair tied up into a flawless ponytail, Michelle Cunningham sat alone in the middle of the restaurant drinking and eating something green.

Sucking in a deep breath, I walked right over to her table and sat down across from her.

Michelle Cunningham's eyes darted up to me the second my ass was in the chair.

"Nicolas Montgomery. Can I help you with something?" she said, furrowed eyebrows, seemingly confused.

I put on my best smile. "I believe you can, actually," I said. "I have some things that might be of interest to you. Some documents, photos, evidence if you will."

"Evidence?" She was acting oblivious. I mean, she didn't know that I had all the contents of her flash drive, or that Butler had found her secret emails. But she had to have some sort of inkling as to why I was here.

"Evidence," I repeated, taking out my phone and opening straight to the files. I'd copied them onto my laptop last night as well, just to have another backup. I flipped my phone so she could see the screen, and she raised her eyebrows.

Michelle Cunningham sat up and put her phone face down on the table. "So I see."

"So you see."

She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. She didn't look as worried as I'd been expecting, which unnerved me, but I told myself it must have been because we were in public. She couldn't exactly freak out and cause a scene in the middle of a popular brunch spot in the city.

"I have all of the first drafts of the articles you made your special friend write. What's his name again... Lance Weaver? All the drafts, all the photos you had him take of my brother and our friends. The best part is the picture I have of you and him kissing when you thought you were alone." I slid my phone to the picture of her and Lance Weaver kissing outside of Conference Room B. "I guess you should have reevaluated your privacy."

Michelle Cunningham smiled bitterly and shook her head. "Do you have a plan of action with all of this information? Or are you just threatening me?"

"I'm not threatening you. I'm telling you what I know so that you stop trying to ruin my brother, my friends, and my family by getting your side-boy with the stupid name to publish articles that make them all look bad," I said, my voice deep and threatening.

"And let me guess," she said, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. "If I don't stop, you're going to release all of that information so you ruin me. Correct?"

I didn't want to have to release the evidence. Not even Ava or Will knew about what Butler and I had found. Nobody but the two of us knew. Because I was hoping I could take care of it easily enough, find some sort of explanation for why the articles stopped popping up, and the whole situation would die off. Easy peasy just like that.

"That would be the case," I said. Easy.

But with the words that came next out of Michelle Cunningham's mouth, I knew that it wasn't going to be remotely "easy peasy".

"Then maybe I should take some precautionary measures." Mrs. Cunningham picked up her phone. With her very long and loud acrylic nails, she tapped her phone screen multiple times before turning it around so I could see for myself.

And my heart dropped.

"Let's start with my evidence. Number one," she said, and on the screen was an array of photos of me. All at The Box or various clubs in the city. Ones that I'd only been let into because of my title and family's power. All which I'd gone to to be mischievous and drink, sometimes take the occasional drug for the fun of it.

The pictures she swiped through all depicted me at clubs, some with drinks in my hand, some where it just looked like I was enjoying myself. Either way, I was 17. Clubs in the city didn't allow anyone in unless they were 21 or older.

So this, already, was a bad fucking start.

She swiped to another set of photos. It felt like my throat was closing in on itself a little. "These, I believe, are photos of you holding contraband drugs and alcohol. Am I right?"

I didn't say anything. Because she was right.

The first picture: Me and one of the guys I used to employ with my little business checking out the pills we'd just gotten. The second picture: Me and more of the guys I employed holding a shit ton of alcohol. The third picture: Me handing a little baggie to a student on the Syracuse campus.

"I have people who take these photos for me, Nicolas. I hope you know that I'm no fool," Mrs. Cunningham said. "Neither are you, clearly, but you really should have known that I'd have something on you, as well. We just haven't gotten to publish it yet."

I gritted my teeth. "Clearly," I muttered.

"We were saving all of these for later on because it was the best evidence we had. Nicolas Montgomery clubs illegally and runs an illegal business? Montgomery Squared would be over for good," Mrs. Cunningham said. "We were going to release it next, but now that you're here threatening me, I might as well return the favor. Should I continue?"

I thought, There's fucking more? But I didn't say anything. I didn't want to show her that I was kind of freaking the fuck out.

Maybe Butler was right. Maybe I shouldn't have come here alone, or at all.

Michelle Cunningham flipped to a new set of photos. Ones of me punching Chad at that stupid fucking party.

"Lance said a lot of college students will do anything for a little money. That Chloe girl from the sorority got these ones for me," Mrs. Cunningham said. "No photos of Theodore punching him, unfortunately, but this is pretty bad."

"He was being a dick–"

"And no one would know that, would they?" she retorted. "And then there's this."

She flipped to one last picture.

Butler and me. Kissing outside of C&C HQ.

Fuck.

"I guess you should have reevaluated your privacy," she said, throwing my own words back into my face.

My jaw was tense and breathing felt hard, but I didn't want to show it. I tried my best to keep my shit together. But there I was: kissing Butler which was first of all illegal and second of all a total fucking invasion of my privacy.

This was why I shouldn't have kissed him outside in public. Even if no one was around, that had clearly been a fucking mistake. I should have been more careful, should't have let my guard down, shouldn't have let Butler convince me that I deserved to have a bit of fun. I should have stayed focused and went home right after we found the flash drive. But instead, I made out with Butler in a fucking closet, then kissed him one more time because I couldn't hold my damn hormones in.

And now Michelle Cunningham was smiling at me and I could do nothing but barely glare back. While my throat closed in on me, my airways felt so small, I felt on the verge of panic. Because I'd come here to blackmail her and she was throwing a bunch of shit right back at me.

I was afraid of what was next. So afraid that, as a precautionary measure, I discreetly opened my phone under the table and pressed Record on the voice memos app. Maybe it wouldn't help at all, but I did it regardless.

"So here's the thing," Michelle Cunningham said. "You're going to be announced the new owner of Montgomery Squared tomorrow. Gossip gets around. The Wallstreet Journal, apparently, has already spoken to your father and is working on a piece. But I'm sure you know by now that I can squash all of that."

My fist clenched under the table.

"All of this could ruin your reputation. It would take far too long to recover from this, and as for your family's company, it might not recover at all. With all of the articles already posted, this certainly wouldn't help," she said.

I sucked in a breath, which took way more strength than I would have liked to admit. "So what do you want?"

"You won't release any of my information and I won't release any of yours. For one," Mrs. Cunningham said. "And next to that, I'm going to need a written NDA from your brother to stay away from Juliet as well as sign an agreement."

I raised my eyebrows. A fucking non-disclosure agreement to leave Ava alone? Theo would never. And it was ridiculous to think it anyway. He and Ava were too good together, their relationship was too strong to be signed away with an NDA.

"What agreement?" I asked.

"50 percent stock in your family's company."

I almost coughed. 50 fucking percent was ridiculous.

"That's impossible. That's basically–"

"Part ownership?" Mrs. Cunningham finished and nodded, smiling now in a way I recognized as evil. "Yes. I have plans, Nicolas. And if you don't want your reputation to be completely ruined days before you're supposed to become the newest Montgomery Squared pupil, then you'll figure out a way to get me an NDA and 50 percent stock."

"Why?" I blurted out. "Why are you doing this anyway? You really hate my family that much?"

"Your family fucked me over so many years ago. Now, I have my own agenda," Mrs. Cunningham said. "My family will figure out someday that I only married Douglas for the money, the title, and because he's right up there with your family's company. Lance and I have our plans, since you must know, and getting half of your family's company along with Cunningham & Co is a big part of it."

I shook my head. "You're fucked in the head."

"Whatever," she said, and stood up to make her exit. But she kept her voice low and one more time reminded me, "It's either you go down or your brother's relationship with my daughter. I suppose it's up to you. Just know that I could ruin you. And don't worry. I'll send you a copy of everything I have on you. Just so that it can plague your thoughts and persuade you."

And once she was gone, I wasn't sure I remembered how to breathe.

I had to walk outside and find Butler, get inside the car, and shut the door to feel secure enough to be able to have a panic attack, collapsing my head into Butler's chest.

Okay yeah. The collateral damage was fucking bad.

❥❥❥

AVA kept texting me character ratings of the Barbie movies she was watching with Will. They were having a marathon, apparently (and starting early in the day to watch as many movies as possible). She invited me to join and I would have if not for the fact that I definitely didn't want to be at Ava's penthouse if her mom was there. That seemed... Just too wrong. And though I wanted to spend more time with Ava before we went back to Syracuse in a week, I decided the penthouse was off limits. Especially considering I knew more than she did about her mom and that it was very probable she'd been involved with the Wallstreet Journal articles. Except, Nic hadn't kept me updated. After the New Year's party where Nic disappeared, I passed out right when I got home. And when I woke up this morning and searched the house for him, he wasn't around.

Ava texted me a list:

Barbie Princess and the Pauper:

1. Preminger (duh)

2. Sheet ghost

3. Queen

4. Tommy/King Dominic

5. Baker

I couldn't finish the list before I saw Nic get home. I was in the backyard garden and peered into the house right at the moment I could see him come through the front door. I set my phone to the side and stood up, walked inside, and yelled out before Nic could disappear again:

"Nicolas Jesper Montgomery! Are you going to tell me where you've been?"

I could tell something was wrong just by the way he didn't roll his eyes at me or instantly make a dig on my behalf. He stopped halfway up the stairs and just looked at me.

"Meet me in the library in 5, T."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Should I grab Matteo? Or call Ava–"

"Just you," Nic said, then hurried upstairs.

I was increasingly nervous waiting for Nic in the library. I kept responding to Ava's texts about her Barbie character ranks and how the marathon was going with Will. Of course, talking to Ava was always calming. I promised to call her later tonight. We still had to make the New Year our bitch together, and I think we were well on our way to doing just that.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Nic stepped out into the library and I stayed put, sitting on the sofa at the back of the room. When he got home, he'd been wearing a button-up and jeans, and I wondered where he'd been so early on. It was only 10 in the morning (already early for me), after all. Now, though, he was wearing a sweatshirt with the hoodie pulled up over his head and sweatpants; a complete 180 from his earlier less-than-casual look.

Nic made his way over to where I was sitting and he stayed on his feet, but then he handed me his phone completely unlocked, which was already weird. And it was about a billion times weirder when I realized what I was looking at. A folder in Nic's files app titled 'All the evidence'. I hadn't yet clicked on it.

"Nic, what is this?"

"Open it up and swipe through. It's all in order from the first article to the ones that haven't been published yet," he told me.

From the first article to the ones that haven't been published yet...

I clicked on the folder and there it was: I understood now. PDFs of the articles that had been published by The Wallstreet Journal and photos that had gone along with them. I swiped through slowly, taking in every little bit of evidence.

"Lance Weaver is the name of the guy who wrote the articles. He works for The Wallstreet Journal. You'll see quite the photo of him after you swipe past the latest article PDF," Nic told me.

I swiped a bit faster until I got to the compromising picture he was definitely referring to:

"Holy shit," I cursed, looking up at Nic. "Mrs. Cunningham is cheating?"

Nic nodded, his hands shoved into the pocket of his sweatshirt. "That's what Butler and I caught at the New Year's Eve party. As well as all of this other shit. It was all on some flash drive. Don't swipe again until I tell you to."

I nodded, a little confused but I complied. "What did you do about all of this?"

"That's what the next part is for," Nic said. "If you swipe to your right, you'll start to see the shit that hasn't been published yet. The stuff that wasn't on the flash drive I found but... because of events that have recently taken place this morning, here they are."

I swiped. Photos of Nic. Bad photos where he was at clubs drinking. I swipe again. More bad photos of Nic holding drugs and alcohol. They were all photos I could only assume were taken when he was still doing his illegal business. My jaw clenched because of the fact that someone had gone around and taken these pictures of Nic, and that someone had been working for fucking Ava's mom.

I swiped one more time and saw pictures of Nic punching Chad.

"They didn't get me punching Chad?" I asked. "I was kind of proud of that punch."

"Yeah, it was badass or whatever. But nope. Just me," Nic said. "Just finish swiping so we can get this over with."

I swiped to the last photo and almost choked.

Nic was kissing Butler.

In my mind, I was conflicted. Because I totally wanted to jump up with a wide smile and dance around Nic, teasing him about liking Butler because I'd totally picked up on that vibe a while ago. But even though I picked up on the vibe, it was still incredibly fucking shocking to see Nic actually kissing Butler.

And on top of that, my clashing feelings came from the fact that this was a picture that had been taken of the two of them for Mrs. Cunningham's blackmailing sake. And it was a huge invasion of privacy. Besides, even if this proved that Nic felt something for Butler, it didn't mean the situation wasn't still complicated. And something told me there was an inner struggle going on with Nic involving the entire thing.

"Nic..."

"Don't get started, okay? I'm not talking about Butler right now. It was also a one-time thing, got it?" Nic sniped before I could get anything else out. "But anyway. Yeah. That's the current situation. Michelle Cunningham is a cheating revenge-lusting thunderstorm who has given me a threat."

"A threat?" I asked.

Nic nodded, rocking on his heels. "Yes. It's quite thrilling, really. And I'll enlighten you, but," Nic paused and came to sit down in the chair beside me, facing his body in my direction and his eyes growing intensely serious. "I know you won't like it, T, but trust me when I tell you this... Ava can't know."

I tilted my head. "Nic. I can't keep secrets from her. I promised–"

"I know, I know, believe me, I do. But if you tell her, I won't be able to do what I need to do," Nic said, and from his tone of voice, I knew he was being sincere. As sincere as he was when he told the parents the truth about everything. I knew my brother and he didn't mess around, which meant that this was fucking important to him.

I sighed. I didn't like lying to Ava or keeping things from her. But at the same time, Nic was looking at me with a sense of urgency, with pleading eyes that told me this wasn't something to mess around with.

"Okay," I agreed. "What do you need from me?"

"Don't tell Ava and keep her out of it, for one. And besides that," Nic said, "I need you to talk to someone. A certain person that's going to help us do what we need to do and prove what we need to prove. And we've gotta act fast. We're on a deadline."

"Deadline? And who am I talking to?"

"A week," Nic told me. "And you'll find out. Just let me explain."

❥❥❥

MR. CUNNINGHAM DOES NOT SUPPORT THIS BULLSHIT.

And neither are WEEEEE. Smh.

Of course Mrs. Cunningham is a lil bitch. Of course she is blackmailing baby NIC...

Also Nic and Butler. So damn cute. But it's not a thing, it's not a thing.... so he says... *sigh*

Anyway. Who can guess what Nic's next move is? With Mrs. Cunningham's LITERALLY INSANE DEMANDS? And is the secret-keeping gonna get Mr. Theodore in trouble?

WE. SHALL. SEE.