"Unlikely, but not impossible," she said faintly.
"And you don't have time for that anyway." I didn't mention the fact that even without Stuart's recent suicidal decisions, I wouldn't have given the company back just so they could end up exactly where they'd started. She simply didn't have the resources. My eyes met hers, and I flinched at the fear I saw in her blue-green gaze. Feck. If Stuart were here now, I'd tear him limb from limb.
She nodded. "Okay, well, this isn't your problem, obviously. I'll figure something out." She started to rise.
"Sit down, Lydia. Please." She paused, her gaze sweeping over my expression and then did as I asked.
"I have an offer for you, and I have some demands."
"An offer? Demands?" she repeated blankly.
"Years ago, I did some work for the men who hold Stuart's loans. I might be able to buy him some more time to pay them back."
"Why would you do that?" she asked. "You planned this. Isn't it what you want?"
I pressed my lips together. "Dammit, Lydia, you have no idea what these men will do to your brother if he doesn't pay them back, what they'll do to you. I'm not a bloody monster. I admit I wanted your brother ruined, but not tortured and dead." I closed my eyes briefly. Admitting aloud that I had orchestrated her brother's ruination didn't bring me the pleasure it once had. In fact, it brought a peculiar feeling of sadness and shame.
"I will not take responsibility for your brother's fuck-ups, but I will take responsibility for my own. And I will try to help him because of you, Lydia. Because I want to keep you safe." I shook my head, pausing before I said, "I want you to come live with me in my apartment in New York City."
Her eyes widened, and she stared at me for a moment. "Is that necessary—?"
"Yes. And it's what I insist upon if I'm going to try to help Stuart."
She licked her lips, sucking the bottom one between her teeth for a moment and the movement made my guts clench. "For how long?"
"I don't know. For as long as it takes to make sure you're not in danger."
She appeared to consider the situation I'd just explained to her. Perhaps to find a way out . . . an alternative. "What will happen with De Havilland Enterprises in the meantime?" she asked, obviously hoping that once this was over she'd have a chance to reclaim her company. Would she? Would I eventually give it back? Sell it back on some payment schedule? I had told Fionn I wouldn't, but now things had changed.
"I have a team in there now whose sole specialty is bringing back companies on the brink of financial ruin."
"I see." Her eyes wandered away again, the wheels in her mind obviously turning. "And then will you sell it? Once it's on solid ground, I mean?"
"I don't know. I haven't decided anything yet."
She nodded. "My father—"
"I know. Your father created that company from nothing. He worked hard every day, and he made it what it was before your brother got his hands on it. He loved it. He was extremely proud of it."
"Yes," she said quietly.
"I'm not out to ruin what was your father's dream. I'm trying to revive it."
She let out a breath. "I guess . . . I guess that's more than what my brother was doing."
I didn't say anything. She already knew how I felt about her brother. "I was trying, you know—"
"I know. I know that." I'd had the men looking into the company finances look into Lydia and Stuart's personal finances as well. Lydia had been putting practically every dime she earned back into the company in a number of ways—advertising, endorsement, even making up for the shortfall in payroll in the last several months. And though I was sure she hadn't fully realized it, Stuart had been spending ten times as much as he was earning, underhandedly raping the profits that should have been put back into the business. Lydia had been fighting an uphill battle, one destined for failure all along. And now she was broke. Not just broke, practically penniless. I didn't even know how she'd managed to buy the groceries I'd sent her out for. I'd felt sick to my stomach this morning when I'd received the details from my investigators.
"I suppose I'll need to find a job," she said eventually as if her mind had been following the same path as mine.
"I'd be happy to keep you on at De Havilland Enterprises. But I will not hire your brother back. And I can't have you going back to work until his issues have been resolved."
For the first time since we'd begun speaking, her eyes filled with hope. "You'll let me keep working there?"
"If you'd like to, yes. Did you enjoy it?"
Her eyes skittered away. "Mostly. It's kind of hard to say, I mean, I never really got to enjoy it per se. I was always sort of in desperation mode." She let out a small, brittle laugh.
I reached across the table and took her hand in mine. It felt cold and small, and I wanted nothing more than to take her in my arms and tell her everything was going to be okay, that she didn't have to be in desperation mode anymore. I couldn't though. I couldn't because I didn't know if that was the truth or not. I was still trying to catch up with the way things had changed course.
She stared down at our hands for a moment and when she slid hers out from under mine, she used it to pick up her wine, taking a long sip. "I should call my brother . . . warn him . . ."