“About the new plans Levi had drafted for your Destiny Records.” I check my watch, noting it is a little after four. “The architect flew in this morning. She’s meeting us at Orient.” The Orient is a Thai restaurant Cormack purchased mere days before his focus shifted to the last unowned piece of property on his monopoly board—Harlow’s Scrumptious Haven. That day was a little over three years ago.
“Shit! Our meeting completely slipped my mind.” Don’t let his words fool you. He doesn’t sound the least bit disappointed that world domination has been the last thing on his mind the past two weeks. I hear him leap up to his feet and snatch his jacket off a coat rack before the hustle and bustle of an upcoming record label prodigy sounds down the line. “I’ll take my bike. It will get me there quicker.”
After lifting my chin, I farewell him before pulling my phone down from my ear. It’s barely an inch away when Cormack calls my name. “Isaac…”
“Yes.”
His tone shifts from friendly to professional when he asks, “Can you ditch Clara somewhere between your penthouse and the Orient?” He must hear the suspicious quickening of my pulse as he crows like a canary two seconds later, “It’s a long story I don’t have time to share right now, but after an unexpected visit from Colby this morning, Clara is the last person I want to see right now.” My eyes lift to Clara, who’s eyeballing my conversation from the doorway of the walk-in closet when Cormack breathes out slowly, “She’s contesting my position on the board at Attwood. Our trip toMummo Kotiwill now be more business than pleasure.”
His last comment frustrates me more than Clara’s disbelief he is incapable of doing his job. With proceedings in the lead up to Callie’s sale taking up a lot of my free time and Isabelle’s firm seemingly unaware of the Fair Labor Standards Act, I had plans for us to utilize the time at Cormack’s family estate wisely.
Furthermore, the music industry will always be Cormack’s first love, but that doesn’t mean he can’t also give Attwood Electric his all. He took over a billion-dollar company just shy of his twenty-first birthday, yet shareholders have experienced a twenty percent increase in shares. That, in itself, should douse any of the board members’ concerns, much less his younger sister’s.
Cormack breathes out a sigh of relief when I say, “I’m sure I can find a way to occupy her time for a couple of hours.”
After issuing his thanks with more than a grunt, he disconnects our call a mere second after his motorbike’s noisy engine vibrates down the line. Cormack doesn’t drive one of those fat-wheeled bikes you generally think of when you think about someone riding a bike. His is sleek, red, and goes from zero to sixty in under four seconds.
I house my phone back into my pocket before shifting on my feet to face Clara. “Ready?”
I walk to the door before she can answer me, equally frustrated for Cormack and disappointed for myself. At my request, Cormack extended an invitation to Harlow and Isabelle to spend the weekend with us atMummo Koti. The updated flight manifest I was emailed this morning exposes his invitation was accepted by both parties.
I’m curious if Cormack’s decision to take a girl home for the first time is the cause of Clara’s sudden interest in moving back to Ravenshoe. She went back to New York after a run-in with Cormack and Harlow at their old family estate and only popped back into the picture within hours of Cormack approving modifications to a jet we recently purchased for our fleet. She’s watching every move her brother makes. I’m just unsure if that is because she’s trying to protect him from the ‘money-grabbing’ women she swears he attracts or if it is something more sinister.
After Cormack’s confessions, I’m confident I can scratch the former off my list.
Roger is waiting for me in my building’s foyer when I exit the elevator on the ground floor with Clara. The elevators are designed to cater to the penthouse apartments first. Since Regan moved back to Texas a couple of weeks ago, the instant the elevator car stopped on the top level, Roger would have known I was on my way down.
“We need to make a stop before the Orient, please,” I say after sliding into the back seat of my town car.
While Clara makes a fuss about the wind whipping off the coast ruining her recently styled hair, I advise Roger of the business premises we will be taking Clara to. He eyes me curiously, but his lips remain tightly shut. The firm way he holds his jaw does little to conceal the cheeky glint flaring through his eyes, though. It’s rare to get a response out of him, but it isn’t every day he is asked to drop off a multi-millionaire at an employment agency.
Perhaps if Clara learns what hard work is really about, she won’t be so quick to dispute the many hours her brother puts intotheirfamily company forherbenefit.
16
“Istill can’t believe you did that.” Cormack’s smirk slackens for the quickest second when he signals to April that we’ve arrived. Once she announces she’ll fetch us when our table is ready, he shifts his focus back to me. “But as much as I want to believe your wise ways will rub off on Clara, Isaac, values arenotwhat she wants you to rub on her.” He rolls his eyes when he catches my unapologetic glare.Stupid bastard.The restlessness making me edgy doubles when he mutters, “Dropping her off at an employment agency and her seeking actual employment are two very contradictory responses. I’ve been pushing for her to stamp her mark on the world for years. She continuously stated she wasn’t ready.” He slips into our booth, signals for the waiter to bring us a bottle of top-shelf whiskey, then mumbles, “Now, all of a sudden, she wants the top position.”
“Why do you think that is?”
He waits for the bartender to serve us a double nip of whiskey before replying, “I want to say to lighten the load, but I’m done lying for Clara.” He peers at me with his blue eyes glistening. “She feels threatened by Harlow. She thinks I’m falling for her too quickly.”
Air huffs out of his nose when I ask, “Are you?”
“Probably.” He downs his whiskey before serving himself another generous helping. “But it can’t be fucking helped. I’m not in control of anything happening right now.”
His unusual use of a curse word endorses his claim. He only lets them fly off the handle when he forgets he’s a twenty-eight-year-old billionaire in charge of thousands of employees. Harlow has a way of making him forget about the controversy that’s surrounded him the past nine years.
Cormack freezes with his glass partway to his mouth before he locks his eyes with mine over the rim. “Did I tell you what she said when I showed her the newspaper clippings?”
I shake my head, both displaying my annoyance that he hasn’t burned the many false reports about him and reminding him that this is the first sit-down we’ve had since he patched things up with Harlow.
Life has gotten so busy, I barely get the chance to breathe.
He wets his lips like they’re not sparkling with whiskey before cracking them into a smile. “She said, ‘Who wrote this crock of shit?’” He relishes the laughter rumbling in my chest from his impersonation of Harlow’s take-no-shit attitude before adding, “Then she asked if I sued the living shit out of them.” He drags his teeth over his lower lip before whimsically shaking his head in disbelief. “She took my side even without me uttering a syllable.”
Trust is a huge thing for Cormack and me. We don’t give it easily, and you will never get it back if you lose it from us, so when we’re given it with no strings attached, it’s an attractive quality we can’t help but admire.
I bob my head in understanding when he mutters, “She’s knocking me on my ass, Isaac, and for some reason, I’m not scared by the prospect.”
