Bennet smoothed down his tie while walking to the door. “The answer is obvious.” He opened the door and leveled a fierce stare at me. “Cancel this meeting. Go to Xavier.”
An hour later, I sank into the backseat of my taxi. Watching the familiar London landmarks pass by didn’t do one damn thing to calm my nerves. I alternated between fidgeting with my necklace and checking my phone every two minutes in case Bennet tattled on me and told Xavier I was here.
Regardless of what he’d said, I didn’t cancel the meeting. Call me stubborn or impulsive or whatever. I wasn’t about to blow off a chance to do something I couldn’t when I was sixteen.
When the taxi pulled to the curb, I stared at the nondescript glass office building. For someone so keen on flaunting his status, Jordan chose a rather mundane place to run his business. Even the name was boring: Sentinel Protection Services.
Probably by design, I thought as I entered the lobby.
The receptionist greeted me with a pleasant smile, pointed toward the elevator bank, and instructed me to go to the fifth floor.
My stupid heart wouldn’t stop pounding. When the doors opened it took me a second to gather my wits and walk out. But then I saw Jordan standing in the hall talking with another man. I could feel his assholery saturate the air.
The night he’d approached me in Manhattan will forever be seared into my memory. Faking a southern accent, bombarding me with awful accusations about Xavier, and then gloating about what he’d done with Charlotte.
I raked my eyes over his tall, muscular build. The bastard still looked the same. Dark hair, dark eyes, expensive watch, and an expensive tailored suit.
He never looked in my direction but he knew I was there. His whole body reacted. He stood taller, adopting a more stern expression. Suppressing an eye roll, I strode toward him.
“These two will be our best bet.” Jordan spoke in a tone edged with entitlement. “Make them fight for it. They’re both in desperate need of our services.”
The other man nodded once, looked me up and down, and went on his way.
“My most anticipated meeting of the day.” A hint of amusement worked its way into Jordan’s voice. “American football teams aren’t really on my list of dream clients.”
For a second, I fantasized about shoving my four-inch heel into his crotch and twisting it. Then again, he might like that.
“This meeting will be short and sweet since you’re not on our dream list either.” I flashed a smile that was both polite and menacing.
“Feisty. The legend of the fun twin continues to intrigue me.” He opened his office door and gestured for me to enter.
My hand clenched into a fist. Standing with him in a hallway made my skin crawl. The thought of sitting in his office turned my stomach. Masking my discomfort would be a challenge.
I can do this. It can’t be any worse than the league owners’ meeting a few years ago.
Without acknowledging his remark, I took a seat in front of his desk. The bland theme continued in here. For a security firm, I expected cool, metal tones or maybe all-white furniture or something.
Nope.
Basic office. Basic asshole.
“I know what you’re doing.” I crossed my legs and leaned back in the chair when he sat down. “And you’re going to tell me why.”
“You’ll have to be more specific.” A wicked smile pulled at his too-wide mouth. “I’m juggling quite a few projects at the moment.”
He splayed one of his big hands on the desk. Rotten images of those hands wrapped around my sister’s neck fueled my courage.
“Cut the bullshit.” I stood up, fighting off the urge to pace. “I’ll dumb this down for you so there’s no misunderstanding.” He scoffed. He fucking scoffed. “Leave Xavier alone. I don’t care if you see him at a restaurant, an event, on the sidewalk, on fucking television, wherever. Leave him the fuck alone or I will go to the authorities and have you formally charged with rape.”
“Rape?” he sputtered. “Is this about your little tart of a sister? Jesus Christ. I didn’t rape her.”
Two decades worth of grief and rage gathered at the base of my neck, spreading until it enveloped my skull in a crushing grip. “Stop lying.” I exploded. “We both know you did. I read all about it in her diary. She couldn’t even talk to me. She never did tell me because she killed herself.” Tears streamed down my cheeks. Somehow, I ended up on the other side of his office, pacing in my usual figure eight path. “Maybe I’ll add murder charges to the list. I will bring you down if it’s the last thing I do.”
Jordan studied me briefly before responding, “I’d like to see you try.”
With a swiftness that surprised even me, I stormed over to his desk, leaned forward and slammed my hands down. “England doesn’t have a statute of limitations on sexual assault. Don’t underestimate me. I’m not intimidated by your nobility. I have more power and influence than you think.”
“Americans. Always so eager to show off their valor.” Jordan rose from his chair like a demon coming out of hell. “How is your father these days? I hope my family’s investments are still helping to support your lifestyle.”