Page 95 of Lorcan's Obsession

“Baby, I don’t think you should worry yourself about that—”

“It wasn’t a request, Lorcan.”

In any other scenario, that would have been hot, but right now, Tristen’s attitude was frosty. She didn’t even bother to lift her eyes from her screen. Obediently, I walked around my desk and powered on my monitor.

“There’s about a hundred files, how should I send—”

“Never mind. I’m in.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I’ve accessed your computer remotely. I’ll call you if I need any help, but that won’t be for another couple of hours. And I work best without interruptions.”

Her tone was acidic enough to eat through metal. I gripped the door frame until my knuckles turned white, all instincts warning me to leave her alone, to not push her any further.

“Tell me I didn’t ruin everything, Tristen,” I begged. “Tell me I still get a chance to fight for you, to fight for us.”

If she heard me, she gave no sign. Her nails clicked furiously against the keys with every stroke, her eyes locked on the screen.

“Tristen, please.”

Her shoulders slumped, and her caramel hair covered her face. That careful mask was slipping once more.

“You didn’t,” she paused, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “You didn't ruin everything. Now, please, leave me to my work.”

Bowing my head, I let go of the door jamb and departed like she wanted. I made a beeline for the wet bar and knocked back a shot of whiskey. What else could I do while my girl worked and kept me on thin fucking ice?

Okay, Lorcan. Ball up. Deep breaths. Get it together.

I gathered up all of my anxiety and let it out in a long, deep sigh. Tristen had said things weren’t totally ruined. I could still fix this. Pouring out another shot, I paced around the room, over and over. Every thought circled around her and how to earn forgiveness before the night was over.

If only I could explain things to Tristen. If I could just be open with her, explain to her how deeply she affected me. That by entering my life, she had completely rewritten my sense of purpose with no hope of return.

If only I could man up and—

“Hey.”

I turned around, startled. Tristen was leaning against the door.

“I found something that’ll give you the upper edge in the case tomorrow,” she announced. “There’s no communication from Gremco notifying you about the chemical changes in their formula.”

Tristen returned to the home office with no further explanation. I leaped off the couch and followed after her.

"What do you mean?” I asked. “They informed us of their cost changes."

"Formula, Lorcan. Not price. The trail I was following has a gap after company incorporation. I suspect there is an addendum about procedures regarding composition change. Can your dad confirm if he remembers anything along those lines before we begin the hunt?”

"The hunt?"

"Yes. We'll need to scavenge for any type of communication from Gremco, formal or informal, notifying a formula change."

“You think Jackass One and Two didn’t know its existence?"

"Did you?"

I didn't miss the twinge of condescension in Tristen's voice, or how her lips curled into a smirk. She enjoyed the feeling of a win right now. After everything this evening, she deserved it. So I simply shrugged my shoulders.

"No. My father kept most of the founding information to himself. He wanted me to learn how to take over the day-to-day operations, not to question his most successful accomplishment."

“Contact him. We need to confirm this angle with him first.”

Fine by me. Anything to avoid the elephant in the room. I sent a text to my father, and he responded immediately with a phone call.

---