Page 3 of Anger

Lanie wasn’t as amused. It was a well-known fact she hated physical contact and never shook hands. As one of the richest women in the world, she could escape any consequences. The actual truth was. Her Sin, Anger, would light a spark in the person she touched and set them off. Not always, but when it wanted to be perverse, it was.

“Shit like that will get your interview rescinded, Mr Clare. Don’t attempt to play me for a fool. I didn’t get where I was today by being one,” Lanie warned.

Simon’s head bobbed up and down.

Lanie searched his eyes and found them free of deception.

Ranson handed him a card, and Lanie continued to make her way into the building she owned. This was her world, and it had created her a fortune. Lanie was known as the queen of beauty. The public believed she was thirty-three years old and a driven businesswoman.

Actually, Lanie was thousands of years old. This was a temporary identity, which would last a few years before Lanie died in a horrible accident. Then, a new persona would emerge. Or maybe she’d age herself over the next fifty or so years. Her whim was fickle, to say the least.

The attendant opened the door as she approached the private entrance, and Lanie marched through with a warm smile. Henry nodded at her as he touched his hat and let her pass.

Heading for her lift, Lanie knew Ranson was on her heels.

She headed up to the top floor and walked straight to her office. On this level were the company’s executives. The building was a slender sky scrapper with her businesses based here. Lanie didn’t just run one, she ran several.

“Emergencies?” she asked her personal assistant, Laura, as she approached her assistant.

“None to report. Your schedule is on your desk, Miss Cross,” Laura said, handing Lanie a coffee.

Lanie smiled in thanks. “Expect a call from a Mr Simon Clare. He may have a ten-minute appointment. Ensure he understands how my interviews are conducted.”

“Yes, Miss Cross,” Laura replied as Lanie entered her room and sat behind her desk. Ranson took his stand outside the door. Lanie relaxed back into her chair. She was a busy bee. She was renowned for creating and owning the premier makeup line in the world. Lanie’s labs, staff, advertising, everything was based here.

Two floors were assigned to her jewellery designs and two more for her clothing line. Simple but smart was Lanie’s motto. Three further floors were dedicated to her lingerie designs, and the final two were the charity she’d opened. Lanie ran them all herself and trusted few others. She worked five days a week and took weekends off to spend with her family.

Lanie’s phone rang, and she glanced at the screen and saw it was Jase. “Yes, dear?” Lanie asked, answering it.

“She’s doing it again!” Jase bitched.

“What’s Willow up to now?” Lanie questioned, amused.

“Look at the TV!” Jase complained.

Lanie switched the TV in her office on, and her lips began to twitch in amusement. In her boat, The Swallow’s Nest, Willow sailed around a tanker with a banner streaming from her mast.

‘Stop leaky tankers! Keep our oceans clean!’

“Oh boy.” Lanie chuckled.

“What do I do with her? She’s pregnant!” Jase squealed as Willow cut dangerously close to the big ship.

To Lanie’s deepening amusement, three dolphins, a blue whale, and a humpback appeared and seemed to urge Willow to keep her distance. The banner at the bottom finally made Lanie chuckle.

‘Willow Monroe, wife of elusive billionaire Jase Monroe, took to the seas today to protest a leaky oil tanker polluting the waves.’

“At least she has her court with her,” Lanie soothed.

“Willow is six months pregnant with triplets! She needs to be on bed rest. Remember, Emmaline did not go full term!” Jase blasted her eardrums. “She can’t even walk now, she waddles!”

“Tell me you didn’t mention that to Willow before she headed out,” Lanie asked, shaking her head. Jase would never learn.

“Of course I did!”

“Knew it. Jase, you literally baited her into doing this. By saying she’s fat and incapable, you challenged her!”

“I did not!” Jase exclaimed.

---