Page 5 of Her Secret Santa

Anger courses through me like a riptide. My uncle thinkseverythingis serious. I want to yell at Pax and punch Landon in his smug little fucking face, but my uncle looks exhausted, and Landon is just a cunt I can’t touch. I’m annoyed to realize that I can't say no.

Fine.

“I'll be at the goddamn meeting,” I bite out.

Before he can respond, I whirl on my heel and stalk out of the office, shouldering past Landon on my way out. He says something less than complimentary under his breath, but fuck him. My temper is already at its breaking point, and I really don't need to deck him in the middle of my uncle’s office. The only person that would actually hurt is my uncle. He’s the only one I give a shit about, and dealing with his snot nose son just comes with the territory.

I storm down the hallway and into my own office, slamming the door behind me, uncaring of how loud the noise echoes. My body vibrates with anger, and all I want to do is start a fight. I know I can’t do that, so I pull my phone out and call Arlo instead. At the very least, he deserves to listen to me bitch. Last night was his fault.

“Fuck, dude, isn’t it early?” he grumbles in greeting.

He’s probably been up for longer than I have, but he’ll never admit to working as hard as he does.

“Uncle Pax isn’t too happy with the headlines about last night. Can’t keep your fists to yourself for a single night, can you?”

Arlo laughs, loud and unashamed, and I scowl at my desk, flopping into my chair.

“Aw, you get in trouble?” he mocks. “You started it, dipshit. Don’t treat me like I’m your bodyguard and I’ll stop having to hit people for you.”

“Oh yeah, the big scary gangster I keep on my payroll,” I scoff, rolling my eyes.

“C’mon, Zade,” Arlo chides me, chuckling. “You make it sound like I’m some small time thug. You could never pay my salary. At least pretend to take me seriously.”

I snort out a laugh, rolling back and forth lazily in my plush leather chair as I stare out over the city. I’d be an idiot not to take Arlo seriously. I know the shit he does, and I know the shit he’s done to get where he is. It’s just that he’s also my best friend, and I can’t resist an opportunity to rib him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I say. “I need to blow off some steam. Anything fun going on tonight?”

Silence greets me, and I grit my teeth, already knowing what’s coming. Arlo may be the scariest motherfucker I know, but he’s also a massive softie.

“Might be a good idea to stay away from me for a bit,” he suggests, too casual to be anything but intentional. “Hawthorne Enterprises doesn’t need its CEO getting involved with someone like me.”

“Like fuck.”

I hate the idea of stepping back from Arlo because I hate anyone having control over what I do with my life. I’ve done justfine so far, I don’t need a babysitter to make sure the media likes me. And like I said, the assholeismy best friend.

“Seriously, though,” he says, a sigh following his words. “At least in the public eye. Big bad Uncle Pax is right this time. You don’t need to fuck up your life, I did that enough for the both of us.”

Sure, he may not be squeaky clean, but it’s not like Arlo ruined his life and wound up on the street somewhere. His line of work isn’t exactly something you bring home to your mom, but it’s stable, and he’s not hurting for anything. It only makes me hate how goddamn reasonable he sounds even more, and I scowl at the realization that he’s probably right. Which means my uncle is right too.

Fuck, I hate admitting that, even to myself.

“We’ll just fly under the radar for a minute, alright?” Arlo suggests, easy as can be. “It’s been ages since we hit up Eternity. We could both use a different type ofdistractionfor a while, don’t you think?”

Now,thatis an appealing idea.

Eternity is plenty private to soothe anyone’s concerns about who I’m seen with—no one will even know I’m there. And the thought of finding a pretty little thing to fuck my frustration out into is a good one.

Yeah, Eternity sounds like exactly what I need right now. Arlo has the best fucking ideas.

“I’ll give Cain a call, get us each a room,” I agree, an excited grin stretching my lips. “What night are you free?”

“Fuck it, book us for the whole weekend. We deserve it.”

Now he’s speaking my language.

Chapter Three

CLARA

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