Page 53 of The Lawyer
I head to Tonya’s office and knock on her door.
“Willow, hi. Sorry. I’ve got nothing. I’ve spoken to finance, and there are no payments that we can’t reconcile against contracts or purchase orders, and there’s certainly no contracts with freelance writers or similar that would explain it. There’s nothing. I’ll keep looking, but I’m not sure we’ll find what you’re looking for. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. I’ll let him know.” She gives me a worried look, and I know why. Landon can be ruthless, but I know that his temper won’t be aimed at me. At least not today.
I walk right into Landon’s office and close the door behind me.
“Well?”
“Nothing. No contract or expenditure that can be linked. Legal and finance are still looking, but there’s nothing to suggest that Ms Watkinson has been paid by or contracted from Broderick Media. So, it’s either your father or ...”
“No, he thought it was something I arranged as a gift of sorts to celebrate his achievements.”
“So, who arranged it all?”
He turns to look out the window behind his desk, an enviable view for many, and takes out his phone again. “Locke, I have a job for you. Her name is Geraldine Watkinson, or apparently so. I don’t know who she is, or what’s going on, but she’s had access to us all under some pretence of a fucking publishing deal. My father set it up, or so I thought. He didn’t. So, I want to know who’s fucking with us.”
I keep watching, perhaps waiting for an explanation or more conversation, but he eventually frowns at me and points at the door. It's enough for me to know I'm being dismissed, again, and I leave, closing the door quietly behind me. I guess some things aren't pertinent to his PA, and it doesn't fill me with any more confidence about us than I had before.
Chapter Nineteen
LANDON
Ihaven’t slept, nor have I been able to get thoughts of her out of my mind. Even now, as I pace this penthouse and try to forget, there’s the ghost of her in my space. Yesterday was bad enough. I had to watch her, smell her perfume, and talk to her as if our working relationship was alright. It isn't.
Bright summer rays light up London’s skyline, and I stare out at the view. She’ll be at the office now, perhaps as consumed with me as I am with her. She’ll be there in her smart suits with her hair neat and precise, probably typing up something that needs my attention. Nothing’s getting my attention today, certainly not at the office. That’s the last place I want to be. Not wholly because of her either. This crap with whoever the author is is annoying the fuck out of me.
Still, the conflicting thoughts of both anger and need regarding Willow collide, and I end up thinking of Persephone and the trials she must have gone through to make her decision to leave us behind. Much as that still rubs me the wrong way, I can see her reasoning now. Nothing is simple when it comes to that person you enjoy. Nothing makes any damn sense either. It should be a logical question with a logical answer. It's far from that.
My lips tip up—she’s become something brighter than I could have imagined. Challenging, forthright, professionally worthy, and let’s not forget the fact that I could fuck her for months on end and still never get bored. Add in that she is, in fact, the one body to pique my interest past one-night affairs, and there isn’t a damn thing logical about anything regarding her.
Sitting at the table, I try to refocus on the paperwork concerning her brother’s situation. I shouldn’t be doing that either. I should have thrown him to the wolves because of her duplicity. Instead, I’m as invested in making sure he gets away with this as I was when I told Jackson to leave him alone. That, once again, makes little sense to my usual behaviour.
“Christ!”
I push the paperwork away, pen thrown after it. None of it makes any fucking sense. I should despise her audacity, regardless of understanding her reasoning for the predicament she found herself in. Perhaps if she’d told me sooner, or somehow stopped Juniper's visits the moment she realised it was me, then I could see past the deceit and find clarity.
And just to confuse me further, her threatening me with ruination seems to be making me smile now rather than be as furious as I was. That's as confounding as the fucking situation is. I've found myself admiring her for that tenacity and gall all morning. In fact, I’m actually more taken with her because of it than I was before.
Looking at the phone, I swipe away Father's continued calls, and one from Locke, and pull up Persephone’s number to stare at it for a while. What the fuck I think talking to her will do, I don’t know, but maybe she’ll be more aligned with juvenile sentiments than I am. That’s what this is. It’s a reaction that comes from irrational thinking. I’d like to perceive that as something it isn’t, but the fact of the matter is I’m both pissed at Willow and yet desperate for her. Both of which prove I'm emotionally invested.
Grabbing my jacket and keys, I leave to get into my car. Driving usually works. It helps find a silence I can’t find on my own, gives me a drone to get lost in. I’m pulling out of the garages before I’ve thought too much about it, ramping up speed so I can get out of town and onto the motorway. It doesn’t matter where I’m heading. Anywhere will do. Just away.
The call to Persephone engages the moment I’ve got a reasonably open road in front of me, and I listen to the sound of the foreign dial tone.
“Landon?” she asks. I don’t answer at first, partly unable to find the words I want to say. “Hello? Landon, are you there?” Still, I can’t find what I’m after. I swerve around a car and increase my speed, not caring a damn for anything in my way. “Hello? Oh god, if you were going to call, you could at least have the decency to bloody talk.” My lips tip up at her attitude. “You know I’ll say something stupid if you don’t.”
Definitely possible.
I sigh and slow a little, pulling in behind a truck. “I’m here.”
“Finally. Now, I’m hoping you've called to actually talk. How are you?”
“Confused.”
She giggles quietly. “That doesn’t sound like you, big brother.”
“No. How did you know?”
