Page 43 of The Forbidden
Chapter 21
Evan
“Son, can you please explain why our chief of finance just forwarded me an invoice, just shy of a million dollars, just to install a panoramic elevator?” My father barges into my office without knocking, his voice loud and laced with anger.
Annoyance flares in my gut at both his intrusion, and his total disregard for discretion. I peek around him, checking to see if the reason for this new development heard anything. I sigh in relief when I spot Anais, engrossed in something Janice is saying.
I glare at my father, jerking my head toward the door. “Will you keep your voice down. And shut the damn door.”
Christian Maxwell levels me with a look that says I better watch my tone when I’m talking to him. But still, he does as I ask, closing the door behind him. I’m not usually disrespectful toward my father, but Jesus fucking Christ, he can’t just barge into my office, shouting things I’d rather keep private.
“Well?” he prompts, pulling at the knees of his pants, before lowering into a chair.
I run a hand through my hair, shrugging. “Thought it’d be nice to have a view instead of staring at metal doors.”
His eyes narrow. My father knows me too well to believe that bullshit. “Cut the shit Evan. My floor’s the highest in the building and it takes no more than five minutes to get there from the lobby. Not enough time to admire any damn view. So why the hell are you having a panoramic elevator installed to replace the old one? Not only will it be out of service for a month, but it’s an unnecessary expense.”
My father is not bothered about the money. Not really. The man’s a billionaire in his own right, and Maxwell Diamondsis worth ten times that. The cost of a new elevator is pocket change.
But still, I hesitate, debating on how much to tell him. Not because I’m embarrassed by what I’ve had commissioned, but because Anais trusted me with a secret. It’s not my place to reveal it. Still, I need to give him something.
“Anais has a fear of elevators,” I state calmly.
His brows pinch together, and he blinks as if that’s the last thing he thought would come out of my mouth “No, she’s not,” he murmurs, dubiously. “I’ve ridden in elevators with her. She was fine.”
“She is afraid,” I respond slowly. “Don’t ask me why – it’s not my story to tell. But Wednesday evening, she had an anxiety attack when the elevator stopped. I had to calm her down until maintenance got it moving again.” And that’s as much as I’m going to say on the matter. I shrug, nonchalantly. “I want her to be comfortable while she’s here.”
His eyes narrow, as he studies me and suddenly, I feel exposed; as if he can read every last thought in my head. I shift in my seat, uncomfortable. He knows damn well, I’d never willingly go out of my way to accommodate people. So, I’m sure he’s confused right now.
“Since when do you care about Anais’s comfort?” he asks suspiciously.
It’s an honest question. I never have before, so me going to these lengths is… questionable. “I don’t. Not really.” I shrug. “I just don’t want another meltdown. I don’t have time to deal with that kind of shit.”
My father laughs, one eyebrow raising sardonically. “So, let me get this straight. Anais, who you don’t care about,” his voice is thick with sarcasm. My teeth grind together. “Is afraid of elevators, so you spent nearly a million dollars to make her comfortable, and she’s only here for another five weeks?”
“Like I said.” I say, feigning nonchalance. “It’s a nice view.” I shrug. “Plus, Anais made me realize other people might have similar issues. Benefits everyone.”
He throws his head back, laughing. It grates on my every last nerve. I grit my teeth, scowling. Dad rises from his chair, his smirk knowing. “And like I said, there’s not enough time to appreciate the view.” He points at me, grin widening. I positively fucking hate it. “Oh, son,” he laughs. “You’re so screwed.”
And with that, he leaves, the sound of his mocking chuckle echoing in my office long after he closes my door.
I slump back in my seat, running a finger across my lower lip as I mull over everything that was just said. Maybe there’s some truth in his words, but I refuse to acknowledge that right now.
Especially after this morning’s antics, when Anais childishly knocked over my pen holder, making a mess of my desk. It confirmed everything I already know. I don’t like her. She’s immature. A brat. Chaotic. Messy.
Everything I hate in a woman.
Sure, I commissioned a panoramic elevator and paid extra just to have it expedited and installed in a timely manner. I wanted Anais to be able to see into the building should it ever stall again. But that doesn’t mean anything. I’m simply making sure my employee can function properly at work.
Yet, even as I think it, I know without a doubt no other boss would go to these lengths.
I swallow, biting down my sardonic amusement.
Maybe my father was right.
Maybe I am screwed.
“How do you think Anais will handle tonight?” my father asks casually, from across the town car.
