And now there’s the possibility that I could lose him. I vow never to let my own issues keep me away from him again.
6
Chapter Six
Garrin
I read through the latest acquisition contract that Legal sent me, but the words grow fuzzy in front of my eyes, just like the first five times I tried to read through it. There has to be something wrong with my vision because I refuse to admit it’s about Isla.
She’s been stuck in my head since I saw her last week. It’s been five days and I swear her scent is still wrapped around me. I can still feel the way her small hand fit perfectly into my own when we danced. I can still see the flash of pain in her eyes when I said that shit to her.
I toss the contract down onto my desk in frustration, then press the button on the phone to connect me to my assistant’s desk.
“Yes, Mr. Stone?”
“I want to see those numbers for the new drill sites we’re testing before the end of the day.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Stone,” Roslin says. “I’ll track them down for you.”
She disconnects the call, knowing I prefer action and efficiency over meaningless words.
I push up out of my chair and step over to the minibar in my office, pouring myself a scotch. Unbidden, the look on Isla’s face flashes through my mind again as I swallow past the burn of the drink.
It’s her own fault. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I was just looking out for my friend. Having someone with a reputation like Isla’s working on his campaign can’t bode well for him, and there’s nothing I can do about that—it’s just a fact. The worst of all is its true. There are no mixed messages in that tape should someone more talented than Lincoln dig it up.
I shouldn’t give one shit about why she’s back here, but that’s what is haunting me every night. I get Ford wanting to hire her for payback, but is his plan to really keep her on staff? That’s taking our little bets and games too far.
I haven’t seen him since the party last Thursday, and I won’t give him the satisfaction of tracking him down to ask. I assume he’s been spending every waking moment at his campaign office, getting his run for mayor off the ground.
I white-knuckle the glass in my hand and walk over to the window that separates me from the forty-story drop down to the street below. Patches of snow still dot the top of buildings below, but it’s clear that spring will be ushered in soon.
Will she still be here come summer? How long is she planning to stick around? Surely not forever.
I think of the first moment I saw her walk in wearing that blue dress. The blow felt like someone had shot a cannon at me. The bigger blow had been the look on her face when she first saw me. Those few seconds before I laid into her, she appeared almost… excited to see me. Her smile was instant and welcoming as if she had been hoping she’d run into me.
But why would she? She didn’t care in high school, so why would she now?
Then again, she always was a good liar. Maybe she’s perfected her craft by now.
“Mr. Stone?” Roslin’s voice sounds through my speaker.
“What?” I bark out, my mood souring further with more thoughts of Isla kidnapping my brain function every damn minute.
“I should have those reports you requested in about an hour.”
“Bring them to me as soon as you have them.”
“Yes, sir.”
I turn and walk back over to my desk, determined to get some work done. I will not give Isla an ounce of power over me. I’m as controlled and disciplined as they come, and I will not allow her to change that.
“Also, sir, your father’s assistant just called and he’s on his way down to see you.”
I grip the glass and place it down before it shatters. “Fine.”
She disconnects the line, no doubt having picked up on my true feelings for my father since she started working for me.
So, the old man is coming down from his perch in his ivory tower, is he? Must be important. Rarely does he make an effort to come see me, instead preferring to summon me to the top floor of the building to visit him. He’s like a lion, welcoming people to his den.
I only cooperate about half the time. I’d never cooperate if he didn’t have something to hold over my head. Clearly, he’s not willing to take the chance that I’ll ignore his request today.
Taking a seat behind my desk, I’ve just hit refresh on my email when he slithers in like the snake he is, shutting the door behind him.
“To what do I owe this great honor?” I push my chair away from my desk, propping my ankle up on my knee.
His shrewd gaze tracks the half-drunk glass of scotch on the corner of my desk. “Drinking before noon. How vice presidential of you.”
I ignore his shot and narrow my eyes. “What do you want?”
“Can’t a father just come to visit his son?” He steps up to the opposite edge of my desk but doesn’t take a seat. No, that would put us as equals, and there’s nothing my father likes to remind me of more than the fact that he’s my superior.
I lean back into my seat as if unaffected, placing my elbows on the armrests and lacing my hands together in a casual pose. I perfected my don’t-give-a-shit attitude from a young age when it comes to my father.
“Want to go catch a ball game or play catch out in the parking lot?” I ask.
His face sours.
“Don’t act like our relationship isn’t what it is. You want something. Now tell me what it is so I can get on with my day.”
He chuckles like he enjoys my humor, and I clench my jaw.
“How right you are.” He knocks his knuckles on top of my desk. “I’ve been thinking over Isla Flores’s reappearance since last week.”
Isla? The one game changer, so I try not to show the surprise on my face, but I doubt I’m successful.
“What’s your relationship like with her?” he asks.
“I don’t have a relationship with her. She’s been gone for the past decade after she got caught fucking Asher on video. You heard about it, so I imagine everyone else in this town did too.”
Nothing much happens in high society that those in the upper echelons of power aren’t aware of. Much to my own detriment.
“I don’t care about any of that. What I asked was what your relationship was like with her. She was your classmate at Forest View Academy, correct?”
“She was.” I try to leave the bitterness out of my voice. I have no idea what my father is up to, but I won’t willingly give him any kind of advantage over me. And if he knew of my distaste for Isla and the reasons why, he’d only get pleasure out of it. Something that I’m determined to keep from him. I want him to be as miserable as he made me after my mom died when I was nine.
“Did the two of you get along, or did you treat her with the same disrespect you treat all women?”
He’s one to talk.
“Are you trying to find out if you have a shot at her?”
“I’m not attracted to her, if that’s what you’re suggesting. Which reminds me—you pull that stunt last night again, walking away from me in a public place, and I will knock you down so fast you’ll be begging to be the fry guy at McDonald’s.”