Page 42 of The Stranger
“I had a feeling you’d say that. How about the three of us meet up for dinner one night this week?”
“I’ll think about it,” I mutter, and I can still hear her laughter as I end the call.
I should’ve known my mother would pull a stunt like this. I’m not stupid. She has an agenda … namely, setting me up with a certain little blonde. She’s been trying to get meto settle down for years and probably sees this as the perfect opportunity.
What Eloise Prescott fails to realise is Delilah St. James is practically a minor and far too young for me.For those reasons alone, I have no plans of ever acting on this bizarre, unwelcomed attraction I feel towards her.
Zero, nada … absolutely none.
Today was the first day since taking over this company that I didn’t arrive at work by seven. I’m usually the first here and the last to leave. I love the solitude of being here on my own, and I seem to accomplish more when I’m not constantly being interrupted by calls or my staff.
I hardly slept last night because it felt like the weight of the world was crushing down on my chest. Despite that, I still rose early, as per usual, and headed downstairs for my daily workout at the apartment complex’s gymnasium. This morning, my routine was more vigorous than usual … I had a lot of pent-up frustration I needed to release.
I could’ve headed into the office once I had showered and dressed, getting Damien to come back to collect Delilah later, but I was eager to see her. After everything she’d been through last night, it didn’t feel right not to be here when she woke.
My stomach was tied in knots as I sat at the kitchen island and waited for her to rise. Never in my life had I felt so conflicted. Not even when my mother first approached me about taking over the company my father had dedicated his life to. The feeling was palpable. A part of me wanted to put as much distance between Delilahand myself as possible. The other side wanted to wrap her in my arms and shield her from all the ugliness in the world.
Last night, when she sobbed into my chest, I made a silent vow to myself. I wouldn’t be the next person to let her down. Not like the others had. The rage I felt towards her family for the way they’ve treated and continue to treat her, had me wanting to tear that house down with my bare hands … brick by fucking brick. If they hadn’t let me in when I bashed on the front door, I may have done just that.
Never in my life had I felt so murderous.
The anger returned full force when Delilah entered the main room this morning, dressed and ready for work, and I noticed the bruise forming on her cheek. I tried getting her to eat breakfast before we left, but she just pushed it around her plate.
On the drive to the office, she stared out the window and wouldn’t engage in any type of conversation, no matter how hard I tried. The concern I feel is real, but the only thing I can do is be there for her. If it were up to me, I’d take her entire family down, crushing them like they’ve done with her spirit, but I already know Delilah wouldn’t want that. Her sweetness is bone-deep.
“What in the hell have you done?” Delilah yells as she storms into my office.
“Huh?” I reply because I have no clue what she’s talking about.
“I have Kayne blowing up my phone, accusing me of trying to ruin his father’s business because he received acease-and-desist letter from my lawyer … I don’t even have a lawyer,” she screeches.
Fuck.
With all the other controversy going on, I completely forgot to broach this subject with her. I sit up straighter in my chair. “They are using your image to promote their business, Delilah.”
She throws her hands up in the air in disbelief. “So!”
I understand why she’s angry, but she’s missing the point here. She constantly lets these people walk all over her because, in her words, she’s afraid to rock the boat. That’s bullshit. She deserves better … I know it, and deep down, she does too.
“Are you being financially compensated for this?”
“Of course not.”
“Do you think that’s fair?”
“I love these people … they were going to become my family.”
“Going tobeing the operative word here. You gave four years of your life to these people, their company … and their fucking son. Only to be tossed aside like you meant nothing to them?”
Her face is bright red, and I can tell she’s on the verge of tears. I’m not sure if I can deal with any more. I’m still trying to decompress from the bucketloads she shed last night.
“You had no right to do this without speaking to me first.”
I stand, rounding the desk. “You’re right, I didn’t.” I don’t stop walking until I’m in front of her. My hands reach up to grasp her small shoulders. “I should’ve spoken to you first … I had planned to. But what you fail to realise here, sweetheart, is, it’s time.”
“Time for what?”
“Time to stand up for yourself. I know you have a kind heart, and I admire that about you, but enough is enough. These people … the ones who are supposed to care about you most, have been mistreating you for years. Aren’t you tired of being their punching bag?” When tears flood her baby blues, I soften my voice. “You not only have the right to stand up for yourself, you have the responsibility to. That’s not being mean or lowering yourself to their level … it’s called self-preservation, Delilah.”
