Page 26 of Best Laid Plans

"Okay."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"I can't feel bothered by something I didn't do."

I had to calm myself because my heart was now in overdrive.

He rose then, and came around his desk, leaning against the table right next to him. He looked down at me. "You're still maintaining your innocence?"

"Until the day I die." I let him see whatever he wanted in my eyes. I had nothing to hide.

"I'll forget about all of this if you return my grandma's ring." He watched me as he spoke.

This man could break my heart again and again. He'd never believe me. Even if someone rammed the proof down his throat, he'd still think of me as a deceitful bitch. I had hoped that seeing me in my professional avatar would make him question his beliefs.

"You've got to drop this fascination you have with your grandma's jewelry and my perceived involvement in how it went missing," I quipped. "Now, here's something for you to consider. We were together for several months, and I never asked you for money. I didn't even let you pay for a can of pop, Anson. You really think I'd steal when I knew I could ask, and you'd give me what I wanted?" I let that sink in and felt my heart stutter when he smirked.

"Give you what you wanted? Come on, you can't be that naïve. I was going to scrape you off after that night anyway. I popped your cherry, and that's all you were worth. Did your mama tell you to save it for the biggest payday?"

He spoke casually, like he was telling me about a vacation he had gone on. I wanted to cry. I wanted to let him see the damage he'd done. But that would only give him pleasure, and I would not give Anson Larue a piece of me, good, bad, or sad. I deserved better.

"Honey, if I was looking for a big payday, there were others, grown men I'd have gone to, not some boy in university pretending to be a man," I threw back at him. He'd talk to me about his insecurities, about his fear of failing, about not being able to run the family business.

His eyes narrowed with anger but also respect. He remembered the girl. Well, he was meeting the woman now.

"Now that we're done with the personal banter. Is there anything else you need from a work perspective?" I wanted to move away from him but, again, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction that his scent rattled me and reminded me of the first time in my life when I felt loved for who I was. Since then, there had been others who'd come to care for me, and I was grateful for their presence in my life—but Anson had been the first.

"Yes." He was playing at being controlled and calm, but I could see the turmoil, the anger beneath the surface. I could still read him. Could he see what was within me as well? Hopefully not. He'd use that knowledge to hurt me.

"Well?" I looked at my watch, telling him that I had to leave. It was a petty gesture, but I was too tired for any other.

"Don't recommend your lovers for my projects."

I frowned, baffled. "Huh?"

He clenched his teeth, and his hands held onto the desk tightly. "Are you fuckin' Beau Bodine?"

The laugh that escaped me did so without my permission. It was a genuine one. "You think I'm sleeping with Beau?"

"Are you?" he demanded, his blue eyes boring into mine.

I couldn't stop laughing. I wasn't sure if I was hysterical or if it was funny that Anson thought I'd be sleeping with my half-brother.

"No, Mr. Larue, I'm not in a romantic relationship with Beau. He's my friend, Trevor's, brother."

"Is Trevor your lover, then?"

Now, I was even more amused. He looked offended. "Trevor's fiancée, Katya, is also one of my closest friends. So, no, I'm not sleeping with him either. In fact, he's like a brother." He is my brother.

"What's your connection to the Bodines?"

"Mr. Larue, my personal life is none of your business." I pushed my chair back, and stood up. "If that's all, then I'll say goodbye. I have a long drive home, and a lot of work to catch up on tonight."

"You can stay in Sentinel," he drawled.

"I prefer not to." I picked up my backpack and held it out to him. "Miss Hyatt wanted security to check my bag before I left. Would you like to get that done here or downstairs in the lobby?"

"I don't give a shit if you steal a pen or two, darlin'." His face was still drawn. He didn't quite know what to make out of me. I loved his confusion.

---