Page 42 of The Lawyer
Not even a kiss this time.
“Why did you leave?” he eventually asks. “If you can’t handle our … arrangement-”
I turn to face him, needing him to see me. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”
We stand, locked in a stalemate. Me in this dress and ripped fucking bodysuit and him looking all too good in suit trousers and the same shirt he wore for work today. He hadn't even got changed for Juniper tonight. Although, maybe that was because he dropped everything to come save Ash. And me. “I just can’t do this right now, Landon.”
It’s not a lie. I can’t go into how I felt so jealous I wanted to scratch that woman's eyes out, or that the guilt over Juniper is growing too big to bear. There’s a tangled mess of emotion and consequences, and there’s no way to resolve it.
And tonight’s just added another strand to complicate it.
He nods and picks up his suit jacket from the back of the chair, his arms sliding into it. And then he's gone without another word.
I don’t know how I manage it, but I don’t crumble completely until I’m upstairs, locked in my room.
Chapter Fifteen
LANDON
After the day I’ve had, and after another slew of crap that’s been bombarding me regarding this deal with Pierre Heroux's French fashion channel, I’m about done. I check my watch—seven p.m.—and stand, pulling my jacket on after another long Monday. I'll get that deal, and Broderick Media will be the new part owners of that damn channel, but for now, I'm too tired to think straight.
Jesus, does it get any better at some point?
Huffing, I walk out of the office and stare at Willow, surprised. She doesn’t acknowledge me, just keeps typing whatever trivial crap she is doing. “Why are you still here?”
She looks up at me briefly before going straight back to what she’s doing. “The last of the budget for the ball needs reconciling,” she says quietly. “It’s keeping my mind occupied.”
Assuming her mind needs occupying with something other than her delinquent brother, I walk towards the corridor. “Power off and grab your bag, you're coming with me.”
A few minutes later, she catches up as I wait by the lift. She smiles lightly and clutches her bag in her hands, eyes looking at anything but me. She’s been like that all day. It’s a little confusing given our arrangement. In fact, she wasn’t herself on Friday, either. She seemed different as if she’d gotten an attitude that needed dealing with.
I’m about to challenge the thought out loud when the lift opens and we’re joined by two chaps from marketing. I nod at them both, and we step in silently to travel the floors downwards until the doors finally open again. I can’t help quietly chuckling as I walk through the foyer and out onto the street, the thought of lift fucking running through my mind. Haven’t done that yet—ever. It’s something that needs rectifying. Soon.
Perhaps not in my own building, though.
“Right, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she says behind me. I stop and look back at her, confused again. She points in the direction she should be heading for the Tube. “I’ll get going.”
“You’re not going anywhere. We’re having dinner.”
“What?”
“Food, Willow. We need to talk.”
She looks at the floor and frowns, her gaze then going back up to the road away from me. “Landon, we really don’t. It’s okay. We’ll just leave it and—”
“What are you talking about?”
“I thought you wanted to talk?”
“I do. About the oncoming legal proceedings I’m going to have to navigate.”
“Oh. Right. Ash.”
“What did you think I meant?”
“Nothing. It’s alright. I’m sorry, I was …” I half-smile and wait, damn sure she thought I was about to tell her our arrangement has to end. “It doesn’t matter.”
Yes, it does. More so by the fucking day.
