Page 3 of Point of Contention
Um.
Yeah.
I need to GTFO.
A loud bang kept the words from forming on my tongue, and we both whipped our heads toward the conference room.
The elder Cabot Reed was on his feet, his palms splayed out on the table. His cheeks were red and splotchy, the sardonic smile no longer in place as he stared his son down across the long conference table.
I leaned forward, sitting on the edge of my seat with my heart in my throat.
“This can’t be good,” Travis whispered.
Cabot said something we couldn’t hear, his voice dropping back to a low octave as his composure returned. He’d won some minor victory, but I’d be naive to think he’d won the war or even a small battle.
And I wasdonebeing naive.
Cabot stood straighter and buttoned a single button of his jacket, then gave his father a curt nod and left the room. What I wouldn’t give to know what he’d just said to finally turn the tables and break through his father’s terrifying composure.
The elder Cabot Reed swiveled his head toward me as his son left the room and the look in his eyes made my breath catch. A shiver of dread spider-walked down my spine.
“We’re leaving,” Cabot barked as he strode toward me.
“What?” It was Monday morning, in the middle of the busiest season in publishing,andthe board had recently voted in favor of Cabot stepping into his father’s shoes when he relinquished the throne. Surely Cabot had things to do. “Don’t you have work—” I shrunk back as he shot me a fierce glare, then I glanced at Travis for help.
“Now, Ms. Blake.”
I raised my eyebrows as I looked up at Cabot, ready to lay into him for being so demanding, but as I watched him, I realized what he needed more than anything else right now.
Me. But not just me; he needed my compliance.
He didn’t have it in him to battle anyone else today.
So I rose to my feet, inclining my head to him. I wasn’t going to go into full submissive mode right now and lower my head completely—definitely not here at work or in front of Travis—but Cabot needed that side of me more than I needed to argue or disobey him right now.
And frankly, I couldn’t get out of this building fast enough. If agreeing to leave with Cabot helped spur my feet forward, so be it.
His eyes softened and he waited for me to step beside him, then placed his hand on my lower back and led me to a single elevator that was positioned off to the side from the others. His private elevator.
Once we were inside and the door was closed, he blew out a breath of air and tilted his head back, closing his eyes.
My hands twitched to reach for him, but I kept them at my sides. Electricity sparked in the air; touch him and I’d surely get burned. It was a silly notion, but one I couldn’t ignore.
Cabot’s private elevator moved lightning fast compared to the employee elevators. And though I wanted to remark about that, I kept my mouth shut and watched the numbers light up above the door as we descended. When we were nearly halfway to the ground floor, I finally found the nerve to speak.
“Are you okay?” My voice shook. Frustrated by the sound, I cleared my throat. My fight or flight instinct had kicked in, the only appropriate response to being trapped in a cage with an angry lion.
He chuckled, but there was no mirth in the sound. “Far from it.” His shoulders rose and fell on a deep breath, then he turned toward me and locked me in his dark gaze. “Areyouokay?”
I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t expected him to ask. I nodded.
“Rylan.”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
His jaw clenched, but he gave me a curt nod. He didn’t believe me, but he’d allow me the lie. For now.
“I mean…” I shrugged and offered him a half-smile to lighten the mood. “I would have enjoyed seeing the great Cabot Reed get down on one knee if he was going to propose, but—”
