Page 48 of The Lawyer
“Careful, Willow. Don’t push me. You won’t like what happens. Leave.” He draws out the last word, but still, I stand firm.
“No.” I snap. I break the build-up of tension between us and step away. “If you fire me, that’s it. I’ll go to the press about your dirty little secret. You think the previous article stirred up trouble, just you wait.”
The moment it’s out of my mouth, I regret it. It's a bluff, and I’ll never follow through, but I'm hoping he doesn't know that. He’s pushing all my buttons, and I need him to slow down and think things over rather than show his temper as a default reaction.
I take a deep breath and turn back, watching him. How we’d ever learn to work in a professional way after this, I don’t know, but that's for another day. Right now, I have a job to save.
He doesn’t break eye contact, and I feel myself weakening under his torrid gaze. He's still furious, still bruised, and still as likely to throw something else in a fit of rage.
“I’m going to take the rest of the week off. I don’t think either of us are thinking clearly.” The shock on his face is the first relief from the insane pressure, and I take a little sigh of gratitude for the break. “I’ll arrange someone to cover for me. But this isn’t over, Landon. You won’t fire me, and you won’t work your magic on my contract either. If you even try it, I'll come down so hard on you, you won’t know what's hit you.” I smooth down the front of my jacket and pull on the hem. "I’ll see you on Monday.”
“You can’t walk out like this. I refuse to—”
“Watch me.” I turn and leave.
And I don’t collapse until I get to the other side of the door and slam it in his face.
Chapter Seventeen
LANDON
Considering the manipulative little bitch she’s been, I don’t know why I’m so fucking livid—with everything. I slam the main doors to Earlwood and storm towards my father’s home office, ready to offload some of this fury. Him sending some uptight little debutante to my office seemed to float over me the other day, given it was of no importance and she was pleasant enough to look at, but today, and after the row with Willow, I’m fucking furious with his attempted interference in my life. What does he think; that I’m going to marry someone and produce an heir under his direction too?
The large, oak door swings inwards, and I get ready to deliver a mouthful of vehemence only to find he’s not here. I’m straight back out and searching the house for him immediately. It isn’t until I walk past the library and notice the French doors swung wide, that I realise he’s lording it up in the gardens, champagne in hand.
He nods at me as I approach and carries on talking on the phone, as if whatever I am, or might want, is of secondary importance to anything else he might be discussing. The phone’s snatched out of his hand before he’s got a chance to complain about it, the call ended and the damn thing tossed towards the ground.
“Don’t ever send a fucking child to my office again. Who the hell do you think you are?”
He stands and levels his stare at me, enough anger in it that I remember all those times he forced me into something I didn’t want to do when I was younger. “Calm down, Landon.”
“No. Enough, Father. That is a fucking line you will not cross.”
“I thought she might be of interest.”
“Interest? You made me think it was a favour regarding court process. The last thing she was interested in was court procedure. I cleared the whole afternoon for what? Some ridiculous blonde bimbo who you thought might be good breeding material?”
He stands. “You need a good, solid woman—”
“I choose who is, or is not, of interest. Especially when it’s to do with who I bed. Get a damn grip of yourself.”
He glares and goes to pick up his phone from the floor before turning to walk into the house without so much as an apology. That’s not good enough for me this time, especially considering the current conundrum that is Willow fucking Etherington.
I storm after him and block the door to the hallway before he gets to it, my hands in my pockets to stop me going too far. “This is the last time we’re having this conversation, Father. About anything, frankly. Stay the hell out of my life. This is my company now, and it’s certainly my life outside of that. You do not get a say any longer.”
The anger I know all too well turns damn near apocalyptic on his features, his hand clenching to hold him back. I look at it, watching the knuckles whitening. I don’t care anymore. I’m a damn sight bigger than I used to be when that was his answer to problems regarding a son’s rebellion. If he thinks hitting me will work these days, he’s got another thing coming.
“Landon, I will not have this family caught up in scandal again. Perhaps a choice somewhat better than a cheap backstreet secretary might be of use.”
My brow arches, body stepping towards him because that sounded like a fucking dig at Willow. Not that he knows anything concrete, but regardless of my present feelings concerning her, I will not have him denigrating one hair on her head, let alone her stature in society.
“We have a reputation to maintain, and while you might be happy sleeping with trash, it is not acceptable for anything serious.” He takes a sip of his champagne as if trying to contain himself. “First Persephone and a Foxton, and now you?”
Well, if he wants to travel that fucking road for a while, I’m happy to oblige. “I am not sleeping with my PA.” Not currently anyway. “But yes, let’s discuss my sister, shall we? Sit the fuck down.” He frowns and goes for the door again. My frame moves sideways instantly, hard eyes showing him I’m extremely serious about the conversation we’re about to have. “Sit. Down. And take the tone out of your voice while you’re at it. I am not fifteen anymore.”
A minute of staring, and he capitulates, at least enough for him to move towards one of the library’s wingbacks. Remaining standing, I watch as he takes a seat and leans back, champagne still poised in his fingers. “There’s nothing to discuss about Persephone apart from the fact that you still have not got her back in this house.”
“There’s plenty to discuss. What’s the real issue with the Foxtons?”
