All In (40 page)

59

W
ondering if he would be forced to intervene between Gustaf and Tom, David watched Peter retreat. It had been a life-changing meeting, and he hadn't managed to fully grasp everything Peter's apology carried with it. He would need some more time to digest it, but first he had a few other things to deal with.

“Tom, you can let them in now,” he said.

Tom gave the furious Gustaf a chilly stare before stepping aside.

The patriarch swept into the conference room, flanked by people David identified as Investum lawyers and accountants. Alexander and Åsa were behind them, and last of all came Natalia.

She walked in the doorway past him, and he all but closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. She didn't say anything, just went to a chair and sat down.

Then Michel came into the room, and now Rima Campbell was with him, the woman they were going to appoint as managing director of Investum. Rima shook hands with David. She was a serious woman, one of the best directors David had met, and she'd been his first choice from the very beginning. She'd apparently butted heads with Gustaf a month ago. She eyed him neutrally now. She was brave, David thought, smiling at her. He liked brave people.

Rima sat down, set her phone and iPad on the table, tinkered with her electronics, and then calmly looked around.

Tom was still standing in the doorway. He caught David's attention. “Should I stick around?” he asked.

“Wait outside,” David ordered.

Tom nodded and cast one last menacing glance at the Investum people, a look that clearly communicated that they shouldn't even think of getting up to anything, because they would regret it for a long time to come, before pulling the door shut behind him.

Gustaf started right in. “This isn't over, if that's what you think,” he began before David had even had a chance to sit down. “You must have rigged the vote.”

Michel stood halfway up, but David made a gesture to stop him.

“Of course you're entitled to your opinion,” he told Gustaf smoothly. “But I would watch the accusations if I were you.” He glanced at Åsa, who nodded in confirmation.

“He's right, Gustaf,” Åsa said tersely. “Try to avoid libel, please.”

David continued. “The sooner you accept that you've lost, the sooner we can move on.”

“I haven't lost anything,” Gustaf said.

Åsa shook her head, as if to say she gave up.

Gustaf smiled scornfully, distorting his aristocratic features. “No one is going to touch you with a barge pole after this. You have no power in this country.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “You are no one and nothing.”

The silence that spread through the room was uncomfortable, to say the least.

David watched Gustaf.

For all the years they had known each other, the older man had always been cold and haughty, like a patriarchal relic, born to privileges that he took as his God-given birthright. Gustaf was used to never being contradicted, used to servile submission, and he acted accordingly—as if everything he said and did was unquestionable.

But it was easy to be haughty when you had never experienced any serious defeat.

“I'm afraid you're wrong, Gustaf,” David said calmly, permitting himself to sound a little patronizing. “The shareholders have had their say, and as of today I am the chairman of Investum's board.” He made a point of looking at his watch. “For at least half an hour now, actually. And that is
something
actually, I would say.” He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve and smiled coolly.

Someone suppressed a nervous laugh.

“You goddamned Eurotrash punk,” Gustaf said, his voice no longer as controlled. “You're nothing,” he repeated. “You don't know anything. You're trash, the son of your mother, and everyone knew she was a whore. You ought to know your place.”

The Investum people started squirming in their chairs. Åsa looked down at her hands and shook her head again. Only Alexander appeared unaffected, as if he'd ended up in this room by mistake and couldn't care less what anyone said.

David glanced at Natalia. She sat motionless, her face pale but composed. He didn't want her to have to hear this. He had agreed—he didn't even know why—to speak to Gustaf on the condition that Natalia was present, but he should have known better, should have realized that it would be nasty.

“And your sister,” Gustaf continued, cutting David's thoughts short. “Don't you think I know she's alive? Huh? You're like vermin, worming your way in like roaches.”

David still didn't say anything. A strange calm had come over him. The madder Gustaf became, the more insulting he got, the more confident David felt. He would give the man ten more seconds. He listened to the profanities and reflected on how all the sputtering and cursing had the opposite effect from what Gustaf intended. If anyone in this room was acting like trash just now, it certainly wasn't David. And everyone in the room knew it—except perhaps for Gustaf himself, who slapped his palm on the table. All these years the old man had been so cold and controlled whenever they met. Now he'd lost his self-control for the first time. This should feel good, but David didn't give a damn. At last, he'd conquered the monsters of his past.

“Are you done?” he asked neutrally. He didn't even need to force himself to act unperturbed, because it didn't matter anymore. It was over.

“I'm going to drag you through dirt you can't imagine,” Gustaf ranted. “I'll make sure you're slaughtered in the press. I have powerful friends. I can go however high up I want. I'm connected.”

Gustaf glared at Rima and Michel. “And if you think some gang of gypsies can run my company . . . If you, you piece of shit, think that my life's work can be managed by jungle bunnies like
them
, you're wrong.”

Rima made a stifled sound, and if David hadn't known better, he would have thought his new managing director was trying to keep herself from laughing.

Michel shook his head, as if he couldn't believe his ears.

The others squirmed.

Gustaf opened his mouth, but David raised his hand. He'd had enough of this charade; it was time to talk business. “The new board elected me chairman of the board,” he said. “Our first resolution was to dismiss the previous managing director.” He nodded to Rima Campbell. “Meet Investum's new managing director,” he said.

“You can't be serious,” Gustaf said, looking as if he were having a heart attack. “You can't choose
her
. You have to at least pick someone who knows the company.”

David raised an eyebrow. Until now Investum's leadership team had consisted of men whose foremost merits were that they were Gustaf's friends. They weren't exactly the sharpest knives in the drawer.

“And you have to have someone from the family,” Gustaf said, as if he actually had any right to decide. “At least as a consultant. Anything else is inconceivable.”

David watched him without saying anything.

“There are rules and principles in this industry,” Gustaf continued. “Perhaps it's hard for someone like you to grasp, but I know this world. Everyone listens to me. You need a De la Grip.”

David wondered if the man were really so arrogant that he thought his words had any value at all anymore.

“I might offer Natalia a consulting position,” he said slowly.

Michel's eyebrows moved up his forehead, which wasn't so strange given that this suggestion had been purely impulsive on David's part, not something he'd mentioned to anyone. But, he argued to himself, Natalia was good, Michel had acknowledged that. The company would benefit from her expertise and knowledge. Surely they could be professional and work together.

Somewhere, deep down, David knew he was fooling himself and coming up with justifications that weren't rational at all.

Natalia just stared at him, her face chalk-white.

“She's not going to have a position in the company,” Gustaf roared so that the windows shook.

“There's no other De la Grip I would consider,” David said coolly. “You have no authority whatsoever. It's pure courtesy on my part.”

“Courtesy?” Gustaf howled. “Over my dead body. And besides, she's not even a De la Grip,” he added. “Plus you can't have a leadership team that consists of old women and immigrants. You're going to be ridiculed.”

“Gustaf, what the hell,” Åsa said tiredly.

David looked at Natalia. He wouldn't have thought it possible, but she looked even paler now. Her eyes were shiny, and the tense features of her face were trembling. He'd never seen her cry, but she seemed on the verge of tears now.

“Out,” he said quietly.

“You can't . . . ,” Gustaf began indignantly.

“Not another fucking word from you,” David roared. He looked around the room. “All of you, out.”

The lawyers and accountants were already getting up. Apparently relieved, they gathered their papers and briefcases. Rima Campbell picked up her phone and her iPad.

Alexander got up. “Come on, Dad,” he said calmly but determinedly. “You've said enough.”

Michel had also risen and was starting to usher people out. Under Tom Lexington's harsh scrutiny, everyone hurried off. One by one they all left. Åsa passed Michel, close, close. They stared at each other for a charged moment before Åsa slipped out.

Natalia stood up as well.

She avoided David's eyes as she fumbled with her purse. She pushed out her chair, prepared to go.

“Not you, Natalia,” David said calmly.

She gave him a questioning look.

He shook his head. “You're staying,” he said.

60

I
t's been a long day,
thought Natalia. Actually it felt like the longest in her life. And it wasn't over yet.

She watched David empty the room efficiently and dictatorially.

As the last few people exited, she tried to compose herself, and she was almost completely calm by the time the door closed. David turned around to face her, fixed his eyes on her, and asked, “What was that all about?”

“Ha ha ha. Seriously?” she said coolly, fighting the feeling of irritation that flared up in her. She very grudgingly admitted that he had handled Gustaf most impressively, but he had no right to question her. She raised one eyebrow. “You actually think I have to
tell
you stuff?”

He opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He took a seat at the table a little distance from her as if to give her a good view of his whole body: big, self-confident, dominant. Today had already taught her that that was how David worked—he dominated people.

He put a hand on the table and watched her, as if he were searching for a strategy to deal with her.

She wasn't planning on making anything easy for him.

He leaned in over the table, and Natalia almost jumped at the movement. She was more tense than she wanted to admit. But David just grabbed a bottle of mineral water, opened it, poured some water into a glass, rose halfway from his chair, and handed it to her. “Drink,” he said.

She raised her eyebrow again. Was he
trying
to annoy her?

“You're pale,” he said by way of explanation. “It's been a tough day. Have a little water.”

It made her feel like a stubborn child, but she refused to take the glass.

He shook his head, set it down in front of her, and sat down again. “I'm not your enemy,” he said. “Your greatest wish in life was to work at Investum,” he continued in a low, compelling voice. It inspired such confidence, that voice of his. She was on the verge of leaning toward him.

“Why are you saying
no
now?” He looked really bewildered, as if he couldn't fathom why she wasn't jumping at the chance to work with him,
for
him. “Is it because of me?”

“Um, yeah,” she replied stiffly.

“I'm sure we can both behave professionally,” he said.

Natalia just shook her head. He seemed sincere, and she couldn't decide whether he was just being unbelievably naïve or unbelievably stupid. Regardless of which, she could never in her life imagine working with David.

She wondered exactly how much she'd misjudged him. Maybe he did this all the time? Slept with strategically important women and offered them jobs afterward, maybe as consolation?

It was uncomfortable to realize how differently they'd invested emotionally in the relationship. Uncomfortable and horribly embarrassing. Obviously she would never work with him. It was hard enough to sit in the same room and have him looking at her so intently.

She forced herself to sit completely still and not move a muscle.

“What did your father mean when he said you're not a De la Grip?” he asked. “I don't understand.”

Oh, she might as well explain it. What did it matter? It would be public knowledge soon enough. “Gustaf isn't my biological father. I didn't know that before. Now . . . now there have been
repercussions
.”

David looked at her for so long that Natalia had to keep herself from fidgeting in her chair. Now she regretted having refused the glass of water. She was insanely thirsty. Nonchalantly she picked up the glass and drank.

“I'm sorry,” David said quietly. “I had no idea.”

“Don't be silly,” she said, her voice sounding artificially chipper. The glass had left a wet ring on the glossy conference table, and she strove to put it back in exactly the same spot. She brought her voice back to the cool tone she so desperately wanted to maintain. When she got home she would treat herself to a breakdown, but not here, not now. “It's not your fault.”

“What's going to happen now? With, well, you know, with . . . ?” David made a vague gesture.

Natalia smiled wryly. “With everything? I honestly don't know. Everything is still spinning. But even if you hadn't taken over Investum, I wouldn't have had a future there. Gustaf made that completely clear to me, and now to everyone else as well, as you heard.” She wondered if her father was busy informing Alex right now. She trembled, but forced her body to stillness. They had to be almost done here.

“I'm so sorry,” he repeated.

“Thanks,” she said, even though she was sure that David was truly uninterested in her family situation. She would probably have to change her last name, and she would obviously be stricken from the official list of Swedish nobles. This would surely cost her some of her friends.

But otherwise . . .

Life would actually go on.

She shrugged. “It's not like there's some emergency,” she said. “I can always find another job.”

He gave her a questioning look. Of course. He had no idea.

“I quit at the bank. Well, technically I was fired because my deal tanked.”

“I had no idea,” he said. “So why don't you want to work with Investum now that you have a serious offer?”

She sighed. “David, I honestly can't picture a future in which I'm working for you in one of your companies.” How was it even possible that they could have such different views on this?

“You're right,” he said quietly.

They sat in silence. She wanted to say something more, but couldn't come up with any words. Strangely enough, she wasn't mad anymore, just empty. She took another drink of the mineral water.

“David?”

“Yes?”

“Since we're talking about fathers anyway, can I ask you something?”

He smiled a little, and she caught a glimpse of the David she'd fallen for, in the laugh lines around his eyes and the twinkle in them. “Absolutely,” he said.

“Is Carl-Erik Tessin your father?”

He studied her for a long time. She could tell she'd surprised him, which pleased her. He was so unerring and solid, it felt good to shake him up a little, not to always be the one brought up short. Besides, she was genuinely curious.

“How did you come up with that?” he asked finally.

“You two are very similar,” she said. She had liked the low-key count from SkÃ¥ne. And according to Wikipedia, David had two middle names, Carl and Erik. It hadn't been hard to figure out when she started thinking along those lines. “Is he Carolina's father, too?”

David nodded. “Yes, he was both Carolina's and my biological father.”

She raised an eyebrow. “He's not dead either.” She couldn't help saying it.

“Apparently not,” he responded.

“Do you get along?”

Actually it was almost comical how reversed their roles were now. David's father was a count, while hers pretty surely wasn't. She glanced at his grim face. Not that he seemed to appreciate the humor of the situation.

“Do I get along with a married nobleman who got my mother pregnant,
twice
, and then let her manage the best she could?” he asked slowly. “No, you could certainly say that we don't get along.”

“You should talk to him,” Natalia said, not really caring if she was meddling with things that were none of her business. She thought Carl-Erik seemed nice.

“If you say so,” he said tersely.

“Not that I'm really much of an expert at relationships,” she said with a rueful half smile at her own understatement. “So I guess I could be totally wrong.”

A smile spread across his stern face, and she loved that she could still make him smile.

“Is he a bad person?” she asked.

“I don't actually know,” David said. “I'm sorry, but I don't really want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said.

And then they got lost in each other's eyes.

“Sorry for slapping your face,” she said softly. She had wanted to say that.

“I'm the one who should be apologizing. I deserved it.”

She assumed she ought to cherish his apology, but it felt strangely depressing for a man to apologize for having kissed her. She wondered how David
actually
felt about her. After all, he had kissed her on Friday, but it had been a power display. Which he now apparently regretted.

But then today he'd offered her a job. Did he want to be friends, or something else? She wished she dared to ask, but the truth was that she wasn't asking because she wasn't up to hearing the answer. Maybe this was what they were doomed to—hurting each other and apologizing, over and over again. Maybe it would be better if they never saw each other again.

She looked away. Although it was actually a little more complicated than that. She was going to
have
to tell him sometime, certain things anyway. Because that's what people did, right? Told the man you'd slept with that,
whoops, turns out I wasn't sterile after all, and now I'm quite pregnant. And, yes, actually, I'm planning to keep it, thank you very much
. Because she'd decided she was going to have this baby. Actually she'd known that the whole time. Nothing and no one could make her terminate this pregnancy. It was
her
baby, and she would fight for it like a tigress. Well, hers and David's, of course, she added to herself. Because David could go on and on about never wanting to have kids, but this was every bit as much his doing as hers.

She drew a circle with her finger on the glossy table. Soon, one of these weeks or months, she would get it together enough to tell him.

Oh, for God's sake, just tell him now
, she ordered herself sternly.
Do it fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid
. “
I'm pregnant
”—
just say it now.

“Um, David, there's something I have to . . .” she began at the exact same moment that he said, “Natalia, I was wondering . . .” and then there was a knock on the door at
exactly
the same moment, and they both fell awkwardly silent.

Or maybe relieved.

Malin opened the door a crack and peeked in. She looked stressed out and hot.

“Sorry to bother you,” she said apologetically, balancing an enormous stack of papers in her arms. She nodded quickly at Natalia and then looked at David. “Are you coming? Your board is waiting for you.” She gave Natalia an embarrassed glance but stubbornly stayed. “I'm sorry . . .”

“I'm coming, Malin,” David said. He stood up. “Sorry,” he told Natalia as he straightened his jacket and pulled his hand through his hair. The private David disappeared, replaced by a business leader.

Natalia quickly stood up as well. “It's fine,” she said. “I have to go. I didn't mean to keep you.”

“You were about to say something,” he said.

“It was nothing. I'll go, so you can have your meeting.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“Bye,” Natalia said finally.

David took a step toward her. Natalia stiffened, and then she plastered on a smile, hoping to God that her true feelings somehow didn't show. That he couldn't see that all she wanted to do was bawl her heart out. David halted, and the mood was uncomfortably tense. Natalia cleared her throat and smiled again, calmly and effectively this time—at least she hoped so—and quickly extended her hand so David wouldn't get it into his head to hug her, because then she would surely fall apart, and she quite simply didn't want to do that. She'd fallen apart enough already for a whole lifetime.

Some emotion flickered in David's beautiful gray-blue eyes—she saw it but didn't know what it was—and he held out his hand too.

And then they shook hands, like two colleagues parting ways, and maybe it was forever.

Cool, impersonal, and definitive.

Despite that, it felt like she was dying here in this conference room.

She released his hand. Felt Malin watching.

She had no choice. She ordered herself to do what was right and proper and expected. David and Malin were watching her, surely eager to get on with their meeting.

So Natalia left.

On her high heels and with as much dignity as she could muster, she walked out of the room and out of David Hammar's life.

Good-bye,
she thought, and then closed the door behind her.

Good-bye.