Page 91 of Savage Suit
“What is Noah doing, Nathaniel?” Nicholas asked.
“Noah doesn’t like our betrayals to the women in our lives, but we’re his brothers. Right or wrong, we have his loyalty. Doesn’t that count for anything in your eyes?”
“No,” Nicholas said without hesitation, and stormed away.
Chapter Twenty
My solitary ride on the elevator took forever. I didn’t want to see Noah. Or anyone. I needed to talk to Armani. She’d been blowing up my phone, giving me every opportunity to question her. I just didn’t want to. Truth would set me free or cast me deeper into hell.
Quinn’s pain,mypain, was self-inflicted. If I hadn’t insisted that wretched bitch attend the press conference, none of this would’ve happened. Cocksure seemed morbidly applicable, even if I lacked the appendage for literal interpretation.
Thoughts turned over in my head, colliding with each other. Despair made my body shudder. I wanted to go home and…? Cry? Stare into space? Throw all breakable objects against my wall?
The answer eluded me. My lack of wanting to face Noah didn’t. Maybe he wanted to chew me out. I’d ruined what was supposed to have been his absolution. Worse, my personal life had intruded.
Maybe he intended to fire me. Almost the entire day had been shitty. To say I’d badly handled each blowup would be a sad understatement.
Or, maybe, after castigating me, he’d want to go ahead with the design meeting he’d arranged with me this morning. Except I couldn’t work tonight, a fact I hoped he’d understand. If nothing else, I needed to go home and process everything. The entirety of today.
The elevator halted on the twelfth floor, and I stepped into the deserted reception area. Mrs. Mikes must’ve already left. After hours lighting turned the normally warm décor into quiet peace. The safety and comfort were deceptive. Mrs. Mikes was as cozy and supportive as a barracuda.
Voices emanating from Noah’s office broke through my malaise.
“Noah?” I called, not wanting to barge in since he wasn’t alone. There was at least one other man with him. “Mr. Keegan?”
“Come in, Ryan,” he ordered, his voice chilling in its cold fury.
Lifting my hand to rub my aching head reminded me of the broken bracelet. I’d borrowed over nine grand in costume jewelry. Now, I had to find thirty-five hundred dollars because of damages to one piece. With a base salary of five grand a month, I would have to use the last of my savings to cover all my expenses for the month.
I sniffled.
“He’s waiting for you, Ryan,” Nicholas Keegan barked, snapping me to the present as he jabbed the elevator call button.
Another man stood behind him, his expression much friendlier than Nicholas’s.
“Did you hear me?” he demanded.
“Yes,” I said dully, turning toward Noah’s office, grinding my teeth to hold in my tears.
“Close the door, Ryan,” Noah ordered once I walked into the room, finding him leaning against his desk, arms folded, his expression thunderous.
After complying, I stood silent, uncertain, uneasy, and heartsore.
Ryan stood in silence, unshed tears glistening in her gray eyes. Her pain only added to my fury. As livid as I was with Ingrid Warrington and everyone else, I was angry at Ryan, too. Had she not been in the workplace, she would’ve been protected from such virulence.
“Have a seat.” Hearing the coldness of my tone, I straightened from where I’d been leaning on the desk and nodded to the sofa.
Once she sat, I walked to the same chair I’d sat on during her interviews and dropped in it. There was much I wanted to say, including I intended to ruin Ingrid Warrington, her husband, and any other asshole who’d played a role in today’s travesty. More than that, however,you’re firedhovered on my lips.
It didn’t take a mind reader to know what an emotional toll the last few hours had taken on Ryan. Her vulnerability engaged all my protective instincts.
“Ryan.”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“You’ve had an eventful first day in my employ,” I said, wondering if I possessed the willpower to continue pretending her devastation didn’t affect me. “We need to reevaluate your place in the company.”
Another tear fell; she swiped it away with the back of her hand. “Don’t,” she said in a watery voice. “You can’t let me go based on one day’s performance. Besides, I signed a contract.”
