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She removed the document she needed and walked slowly to her desk, head bent over the file.
“You haven’t won yet.”
The statement came from behind her, and Annabelle swung around, coming face to face with Albert Strong. He stood in the open doorway of her office with one hand casually tucked into the pocket of his pants.
What ishedoing here?
At fifty-five, Albert had a few strands of gray in his black hair, right above his forehead, and the beginnings of crow’s feet hung at the corners of his eyes. Though he was fit and moderately attractive, she considered him ugly on the inside. His plans for the company soured her stomach, and his lying to her father about his plans enraged her.
Turning her back to him, she refastened her attention on the report she had been reviewing before his arrival. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m not playing a game.”
She sensed, rather than heard him walk deeper into the room.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
He was way too close. So close she was surprised his breath didn’t brush the back of her neck. Tossing the document on her desk, she sidestepped him and put distance between them. Resting her hands on her hips, she stared him down.
“Was there something you needed? I don’t have time to talk in riddles.”
“Your father is not going to turn over the company to you.”
Anger bubbled inside her. “And why do you say that, Albert? Because you purposely ingratiated yourself with him and assumed the merger was a done deal? Unless you have something in writing, he has the right to change his mind.”
“This company is mine,” he said in a low, menacing voice that chilled her to the bone.
Nonetheless, she lifted her head higher. “Not while there’s breath left in my body.”
He didn’t move at first, as if he couldn’t believe the audacity of her statement. Then he chuckled, and the sound of his laughter heated her blood to boiling. How dare he actamused, as if he considered her to be ajoke.
“I told you before, you’ll have a position here at the company if you play nice, but you don’t know how to play nice, do you?” Albert asked.
“I don’t need you to secure a position for me atmyfather’s company.”
The annoying smirk didn’t leave his face. “Do you really think marrying your ex is enough to change your father’s mind—convince him you’re capable of heading up a company of this size?”
The heat of embarrassment made her cheeks burn. “My marriage to Dante has no bearing on my father’s decision.”
“Don’t play me for a fool!” he snapped in a low voice. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”
“And what is that?”
“You think by marrying your ex, your father will turn over the company to you when he steps down. After all, Dante Escarra is a very successful man. Why not use his reputation and business acumen to help you grow the company.”
He was smarter than she thought. She hoped her plans weren’t obvious to anyone else, especially her father.
Annabelle shrugged. “It’s true, Daddy admires and respects Dante’s abilities as a businessman. He adores him, actually.”
Understandably. Dante’s rags to riches story had catapulted him to fame and made him the talk of Houston for years. She’d lost track of how many articles she’d seen extolling his brilliance and marveling at his ability to become so wealthy when he started from nothing. He embodied the type of immigrant-American story politicians bragged about while they stumped for office. He was held up as an example of what could happen through sheer grit, determination, and hard work.
“And what about you, Annabelle? Do you adore your ex?”
“Of course. Why do you think I’m going to marry him again?” She held his gaze without blinking.
“Tell me something… How did you convince Dante to marry you again? There must have been something on offer because there’s no way he would put up with you when he has women throwing themselves at him at almost every social engagement. At the moment, he’s the most eligible man in the city—probably in all of Texas.”
“Why do you care?”
“You know why I care,” Albert grated between clenched teeth.
