Page 25 of London's Calling: Part 1
Dad was spot on as my eyes meet Roni’s. Hers widen in surprise, and I assume she had no fucking clue I was going to be here. Quickly looking away, I note Clayton sitting on her left with her father on the right. Both Franklin and Clayton rise to their feet as we approach.
“Gentlemen,” Clayton says, holding out a hand for me to shake. “Thank you for agreeing to meet.”
Franklin doesn’t offer a handshake and other than a nod to one another, we don’t speak.
I introduce Donald, then we take a seat. I look anywhere but at Roni. I may have only caught a glimpse of her, but she looks fucking gorgeous in a long fitted red dress with a plunging neckline, showing a tease of a pair of tits I know are perfect.
“You don’t seem surprised to see me here, Mickey. Am I to assume the rumour mill has been working overtime?” Franklin says cockily.
“I don’t listen to gossip, Franklin. Facts are what get my attention. Although, I am curious as to why you’re here exactly. I was under the impression I’d be dealing with Clayton or even old man Simmonds.” I pick up the beer the waitress placed in front of me moments ago and take a mouthful. Placing the glass back down, I say, “I didn’t realise you’d taken Franklin on as an adviser, Clayton.”
My insinuation that Franklin is nothing more than hired help wipes the smirk from his face. His reaction fills me with glee, but I keep my composure.
Clearly sensing that this could go south and quickly, Clayton hurries to defuse the situation. Considerate of him considering he’s the reason for it in the first place. The bastard knows there is no love lost between us and the Harts, so to bring the enemy along and rub my face in the fact he’s partnering up with Franklin was guaranteed to cause friction.
Clayton looks to the leather folder I laid on the table when I arrived. “After careful consideration, I’m going to have to decline your generous offer, Mickey.”
“Mr Simmonds,” Donald intercepts before I can get up and walk out on this fucking charade. “Perhaps you’ll reconsider after viewing a revised offer. As I’m sure you can appreciate, this process often involves a little bartering before an agreement can be reached.”
I slide the leather folder across to Clayton while Franklin looks at it like it’s about to burn down his empire. My eyes flick to Roni, who has been exceptionally silent. I can’t imagine why.
Clayton’s hand twitches on the tabletop, and I can feel his curiosity from here. He might be curious, but if Dad is correct and Franklin offered his daughter in exchange for a slice of the Simmonds hotels, I doubt there’s a figure even close to changing his mind. Not even for a money-hungry man like Clayton.
“I appreciate your time in making a revised offer, but the Simmonds hotels are not for sale at any price.” He slides an arm around Roni, squeezing her shoulder as he pulls her to his side. “My future wife and I plan to grow the business and build a legacy for our children.”
Roni’s expression doesn’t falter, and she even fucking smiles. It’s the only thing that gives her away. It’s false as fuck, and I’m done with this bullshit.
I finish my drink, slamming the empty glass on the table, then I reach across and swipe up the folder from in front of Clayton. There’s a momentary tic of Clayton’s eye, which tells me he was curious to see what was on offer.
“I’m sure you understand the importance of building a family business, Mickey,” Franklin says victoriously.
“I understand completely, Franklin.” Getting to my feet, I lean down, resting one clenched hand on the table and say, “I understand the only way some people can achieve their dreams is via the suffering of others. I hope you can sleep soundly at night knowing you sold your daughter for your own gains.” I look to Roni, but she evades my gaze. I tap my knuckles on the table, glaring at Clayton then Franklin, who is wearing a smirk. “Donald, let’s go.”
He sputters, stumbling over what he’s trying to say as he gets to his feet.
“Enjoy your evening, gentlemen, Miss Hart,” I say as I turn away and leave the restaurant without once glancing behind me, even though I can feel Roni’s eyes following my every step.
Outside, I take a deep breath, then pull my phone from my pocket and message James.
“Mickey, don’t you think we should have pushed?—”
“No, Donald, I fucking don’t. Clayton was never going to consider our offer. Tonight was nothing more than Franklin flexing his fucking muscles.” I slap the folder into his chest. “Go crunch some more numbers because tomorrow I plan to buy every share in Simmonds hotels I can. Goodnight, Donald.”
He takes the folder and heads for his car just as James pulls up to the kerb.
I get in, and once the door is closed, I let out a furious growl as James drives away from the shit show tonight was. When James asks were to, I contemplate heading to Priest’s, but I have a fucking bone to pick with the Ice Queen.
Chapter Eighteen
Roni
I feel sick. And I’m confused as fuck about what just happened. I pace the length of the restaurant’s toilets as I try to understand my father’s game. Because it’s a game, of that I’m certain. But one I seem to only have half the rules of.
Why the fuck would he set me up to get close to Mickey only to announce my impending marriage to Clayton? How the fuck does he think this will work now?
When I saw Mickey enter the restaurant, I thought it was just a coincidence. At least I could have explained that away. But now? Not a fucking chance. Even if Mickey understands I have no choice but to marry Clayton, he’s not going to give me the time of day after my father fucked up his takeover bid.
There’s a knock on the main toilet door before Clayton’s muffled voice comes from the other side.
