Page 8 of Leo
“I’d like to see Rupert Hawthorne.”
The woman’s face falters for a second, but she still manages to keep her fake smile in his direction. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
“Then I’m afraid, you won’t be able to see him. He’s a very busy man. I’d be more than willing to help you book a time. How does next month sound?”
“Not good enough,” Leo growls, turning away from her and walking across the huge marble foyer. He grabs my hand and drags me along behind. My high heels click-clack on the floor.
The receptionist calls after us, but he doesn’t pay her any attention.
A group of security guards head in our direction. One of them puts his hand on Leo’s shoulder, and before I know what’s happening, the security guard is on the floor screaming out in pain.
Leo pushes me behind him. The guards pounce.
He puts up a pretty good fight, but he’s no match for three trained professionals. They wrestle him to the floor. Pinning him down with his arms behind his back. Snarling at him and threatening him.
I try and pull one of them off him, but he just pushes me away.
Then a voice booms out from across the room.
“Leopold!” the man says. “What a surprise! What on earth are you doing down there on the ground?”
Leo looks up at his brother, his face a mask of fury. “I’m here to see you,” he snarls. “Now how about you tell these goons to let go of me. We need to talk.”
Rupert claps his hands. “Goons,” he says. “Let go of this man. He’s my brother, for god’s sake. This isn’t how we treat family. Even if he is a sanctimonious goody-two-shoes who swore an oath never to speak to me again as long as he lives.”
The security guards help Leo up off the floor. Apologizing and acting polite like they’re scared they might lose their jobs for attacking the boss's brother.
“Come, brother,” Rupert says, already walking away towards the elevator. “And bring your woman with you.”
We follow a few feet behind. “I’m sorry,” he whispers at me. “I didn’t mean it to go down like that.”
“Leopold?” I tease him, nudging his side with my hip. “That’s quite the name! Leopold Hawthorne. Are there any numbers that go after it?”
“No,” he smiles back. “I’m the younger brother. No numbers for me.”
“Pity,” I say. “Maybe I can’t be yourwomananymore. Now that I know the full extent of your lowly position.”
“I’ll show you some lowly positions,” he smirks. “But first, we’re gonna kick my brother's ass.”
