Bennett didn’t miss a beat. “Christopher. He took over the business for a good twelve years after my dad left. Then I graduated with my MBA…”

“… assumed the throne…” Morgan filled in.

“… and Christopher became president of our largest portfolio company.”

“Exos Labs.”

“That’s right.”

In Morgan’s mind, a battle raged. She imagined the Reynoldses as pieces on a chessboard. Christopher and Bennett made strategic moves while Clive, the king, sat in the corner.

But what about David, the eldest of the Reynolds children? Had he not wanted the multimillion-dollar enterprise? Or Cora? She seemed a capable career woman, being a psychologist and all. And why not Carlisle? She was younger than Bennett, but she could have gotten her foot in the family business by now, if she wanted. Morgan didn’t know a whole lot about chess, but what she did know was that if Clive was king, Eleanor was queen; and while the king might technically be the most important piece on the board, the queen was the most powerful.

She filed the information away for another time. Tonight, her sights were set only on Bennett. And that damn spill on the countertop. She wondered if she was too far away to lean over and “accidentally” wipe it up with her elbow. “So, what’s work like?” The question was a distraction. She didn’t really care about the ins and outs of private equity.

Bennett swirled his drink. “Sometimes I feel like I’m playing Zoo Tycoon. Remember that for PC? You gotta keep all the animals happy and the people happy and try not to lose all your money.”

“You make it sound exciting.”

“I don’t know if exciting is how I would describe it. Invigorating, maybe? See, there’s only one kind of deal for me: the one that’s gonna win me big. Coincidentally, it’s the same deal that could potentially knock me on my ass and demolish everything I’ve worked for. I don’t look at anything less than that.”

Morgan held back a smirk. What could he possibly know about being knocked on his ass? For him, rock bottom was still probably a high-rise apartment and a trust fund. “Ah, a go-big-or-go-home kinda guy,” she said. How ironic that the two of them were sitting side by side. Noting the expensive wristwatch, the sweater that probably cost more than everything in her closet, and the Porsche he’d parked across the street, Bennett Reynolds had obviously gone big. And she––well––she’d gone home. “You don’t mind the shitty reputation that comes with private equity?” she asked, even though she knew better. Reputations could be shed like snakeskin.

Her gaze returned to the spill. Reflections of Christmas bulbs glistened in it, taunting her. She felt her nails digging into the worn cushion of her stool.