Page 40 of Corbin
When she reached the top floor of the six-floor, stone-and-brick building, the elevator doors opened to an elegant reception area. A lovely woman in her fifties sat facing visitors as they stepped out.
“Hello, Alexandria.” Eirene had always appreciated the woman she’d known since long before the lady’s hair turned gray.
“Good to see you, Ms. Givenchy. I’ll let him know you’re on the way.”
Eirene thanked her and walked the long corridor decorated with photos of Leszek at celebrity events and in the company of notable business leaders. Among all that, he’d placed her first three platinum albums between glass-walled personal offices and two large conference rooms. Her trustee hired the best in their fields. He wanted no visitor to doubt his success.
At the end of the hall, she passed through an open door where she encountered the second person who shielded Leszek. “Hello, Timothy.”
“Ms. Givenchy.” He stood and held tight to his expression of polite disapproval when his eyes landed on yet another Louis Vuitton purchase.
He found her undeserving of his boss.
She found him amusing.
Ready to get this done, she started toward the door to her trustee’s office.
Timothy hurried to open it only to remind her he was the gatekeeper.
Unamused to find the office empty, she took a seat facing his desk. She would wait, but she refused to show a weakness by fidgeting. He could be watching.
She’d loved the smell of Leszek Moore’s wall of books behind his desk, which included some of his favorite fiction, memoirs by people he admired, and a ton of medical journals he’d read along the way to becoming a celebrated psychiatrist. She’d spent hours playing on the sixteenth-century Persian rug he purchased at auction when he had no important meetings scheduled.
One memory after another assaulted her.
It had all been a lie.
The polished wood door to his private bathroom whispered open and closed behind him as he entered his office. He carried his five-foot-ten height as if he were over six feet tall. No longer wearing a white coat in his office these days, he wore a dark suit and polished loafers. His hairstylist likely spent hours placing each medium-length black hair in a perfect photo-worthy style. Looking closer to forty than sixty, he had invested well with plastic surgeons.
Nothing would ever make him decent in her eyes.
He’d been her father’s best friend and partner in their medical business. She shoved away memories she no longer cherished.
That allowed her more time to envision ways to bring him to his knees.
Another wolf shifter in her position might plot his death, but neither she nor her wolf possessed the ability to kill someone.
“So wonderful to see you in person again, Eirene.” He sent that sarcastic shot across the bow, then walked past his desk to place a chaste kiss on her cheek.
Pixie said,Yuck.
Eirene angled her head and smiled, but it was for Pixie’s reaction, not Leszek. He’d take it as her acting obedient. She’d never dreamed her father would leave her under this man’s thumb, but he had probably seen it as protecting her from vultures.
She regretted the months she had gone off the deep end, trying any way she could not to think about losing her dad. Sadly, she’d only accomplished handing the courts proof that even though she was an adult by human laws, she still needed an overseer.
They confirmed Leszek as her trustee.
Keeping her hands relaxed on the arms of her chair, she schooled her voice to sound sincere. “What is so important?”
“I’ll get right to the point. I’ve discussed this with your agent before informing the tour company. You may do the planned event in Spartanburg, and then you can perform one more event. After that, I feel you need to take a badly needed rest.”
“What?” She stood. With all pretenses of calm gone, she asked, “Two weeks? We have a six-week extension. You can’t cancel a commitment with my name on it at the last minute.”
“The label controls your tours. I’m giving you the option of owning this respite.”
She seethed but managed to stay calm. “No. I’m fine. I want to do the tour.”
“Just the other day, you threatened not to sing at all if the contract was not signed. I took that as a cry for help.”
