“Your meeting?” she prompts, studying me.
Worse than I expected, and the wound is still fresh.
Walt’s whiskey glass glinted under the lighting in the private room at the Braes.
“Are you sure you can trust her judgment?”
My pulse hammered. Blood roaring in my ears, I assured him I trusted her implicitly.
“How the hell can you? After reading that report? She’s leading you around by the dick, son. Just like your mom did to your dad.”
I bit back my first response. How I held onto some semblance of control, I have no idea. Then I leaned forward. “Family or not, Walt. Watch your step.”
“Xavier?”
Her soft voice brings me back to the present.
“It was rough,” I admit.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
I snarl to cover the unease coiling in my gut. “He’s got his claws in this deal. Said you sent him your report, but he thinks you’re steering us wrong.”
Her lips part, a flicker of hurt shadowing her eyes. “How is that possible? Everything is in black-and-white, and numbers don’t lie.”
“I knew he wouldn’t want to hear it. But there are others who are more reasonable.”
She nods. “You’re…persuasive. You’ll convince them to do the right thing.”
This is going to be my biggest stretch yet as CEO. My father left big shoes to fill, and some of the legacy members don’t think I ever will.
“I have confidence in you.”
Her smile, small but fierce, twists my heart. I’m still lost in it when the door swings open, no knock, no warning.
Walt strides into the reception area, Reynolds trailing like a vulture, clutching a manila folder.
Turning her head to follow my gaze, Seraphina is up in a flash, crossing the floor to block their entrance to my office, her spine rigid as steel.
“I’m sorry.” She brings her chin up. “You can’t just barge in. Mr. Blackwell is preparing for the board meeting.”
Walt passes his gaze over my desk, the cups of coffee, and the way our chairs are arranged. “That’s exactly what it looked like.”
The asshole is seeing what he wants.
Walt narrows his gaze at her. “Who do you think you are, Ms. Hollis? Trying to keep his family away from him? Is that part of your plan?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Reynolds adjusts his glasses. “We’re here on an urgent matter.”
My gut twists, a warning flare.
“Step aside, Ms. Hollis.” Walt’s tone is flat, but no less threatening for not having an inflection.
Jesus. “It’s okay, Seraphina.”
For a moment, trying to protect me, she hesitates, fingers lingering on the doorframe, jaw tight. Then she does take a single step back, her heels clicking sharp against the floor.
