Page 40 of Twisted Truth

“I don’t give a fuck about your wishes, Janet. This is the new direction, and you will respect it, or I might find myself canceling contracts that directly affect your shares. I might have been forced into this charade because of the clause in my contract, but do not presume that I am completely powerless in this situation. Every one of you is dependent on the money I have made this company.Imade those contacts.Iclosed those deals.Imade you all hundreds of millions of dollars. Who do you think those contacts are loyal to? You, Janet? They don’t even know yourfucking name, and they couldn’t give two shits about you. But they do have relationships with me, and they do care what I say. So, back the fuck off.”

A tense silence falls over the room. Anyone who had opened their mouths to interject in Janet’s support has suddenly turned very quiet. Janet’s lips purse so hard she looks like she swallowed a lemon, but she doesn’t argue or question Asher further. And neither does anyone else. Asher is the one responsible for the company’s immense success over the last decade, and everyone in the room is acutely aware of it.

The lawyers spread the contract out on the table and look at Asher for permission to begin. He nods.

An hour later,my mind feels like it’s been through a shredder. The lawyers went through each line of the contract meticulously to make sure Asher and I understood exactly what we were signing—and it was a lot to take in. But what made it even more stressful was the reactions of the board members. They kept sighing, huffing, and clucking theirtongues, impatient with the thoroughness of the lawyers. At one point, Asher snapped at them to knock it the hell off and told them that just because they would pressure someone into signing something without full consent doesn’t mean he would stand for it.

But what caught me off guard more than the reactions of the board members, was the sly glances and cheeky smiles Asher’s brothers kept shooting at him when they thought the others weren’t paying attention. I even caught Asher flipping them off under the table twice. They both snorted and laughed while trying to hide their reactions, and it was like watching teenage boys and serious businessmen all in one strange package.

But now the meeting is finished, thank goodness, and everyone but Asher, his brothers, and his father have filed out of the conference room. I’m still in my seat, resting my elbows on the table while I massage my temples. Between the alcohol, almost no sleep last night, and the emotional upheaval of this morning, I feel like an absolute wreck.

“Ms. Hale?”

I look up at the sound of my name. Asher’s father stands above me, and I look at him closely for the first time. It’s uncanny how much Asher looks like him. They have the same dark hair, the same piercing, ice-blue eyes, the same tall and broad frame.

“I just wanted to thank you for being willing to do this,” Harrington Langford says. “I know that even with compensation, this will not be a simple or easy task. And . . . Asher has a very strong-willed personality, as I’m sure you’ve now seen. But know that he has a good heart. So, for however long this agreement lasts, I want you to feel welcome and comfortable with our family. If there is anything I can ever do for you, please let me know.”

“Thank you,” I say, blushing. “That’s very kind of you.”

He gives me a smile before heading over to his sons. It’s strange after interacting with Asher, with his brash personality, to have someone who looks like an older version of him speak in a much calmer, quieter fashion. But then, from what I’ve heard about the elder Mr. Langford, he’s known to be quiet and reserved. That was his strength in business.

Now, I watch the four Langfords as they interact. They aren’t what I expected. They laugh and tease. They’re warm and clearly close. It’s so at odds with how they’re portrayed in the media. The Langfords are known for their ruthless business acumen and dominance. Asher is often compared to a lion in the press. But here, outside of business, they’re just a family, hugging and catching up with their son and brother that lives abroad.

I turn my attention away from the Langfords and take my phone off of do-not-disturb now that the meeting is over. It dings over a dozen times. Notification after notification of calls, texts, and emails roll in. I glance over them; most are from friends and family asking what is going on, but a text from Zahra catches my attention.

I don’t know how they figured out you’re staying here, but the paparazzi have started swarming around the building. A couple of them got inside and have been banging on the door, asking about you. The super called the cops and got them out of the building, but they are still hovering outside. Be careful when you come home.

I groan.I don’t want to deal with one more crazy thing today. The news, Kyle’s apartment, and the contract signing have beenenough. And I have so much work to get through, I’ll probably be home late; the last thing I want to do is walk through a crowd of creepy men with cameras to get into the building when it’s dark outside. Maybe Robert could take me home. I’m supposed to ride in Asher’s car anyway. The contract I just signed burns in my mind. There was an article in it stating that I will be required to have protection with me at all times. No exceptions. I didn’t really think it through until now. How is a security guard going to fit in Zahra’s apartment?

All the questions I should have asked hit me. I was too overwhelmed during the meeting to think of them. How am I supposed to go about all this when the situation is so unusual? If this was any other billionaire, their dating life might make a few splashes in the media, and that would be that. There would be no need for intense security. No need for a plan to deal with the media. But Asher isn’t just any billionaire, and the Langfords are not just a powerful family. So, keeping a barrier with the public will be vital throughout this arrangement. But now the reality of that is setting in, and I’m not sure how it will work, logistically.

I push away from the table and stand. I’ll grab lunch and deal with it later. I have a lot to prepare before the meeting with Asher this afternoon.

“You ready for lunch?” Asher asks, breaking away from his dad and brothers.

“I was going to grab something from the cafeteria and eat at my desk. I have a ton of work to do.”

“You’re going to have to put that off.”

“I am?”

“Matthew canceled the team meeting this afternoon. You and I now have a meeting, just the two of us. We need to go over all the logistics of the contract.”

“I guess that’s good,” I say with a sigh. “I was just wonderingabout a lot of it. I got this text from Zahra, the friend I’m staying with.”

I hold up my phone, and he reads the message.

“Come,” he says, placing his hand on my lower back. A shiver races up my spine at the contact. “We have a lot to discuss.”

Lunch is already set up in Asher’s office at a small table in the corner. Butterflies leap in my stomach as I sit down across from him. We haven’t been alone much, and now it’s just the two of us in here, discussing how we move forward. There’s this strange line of intimacy because of the nature of our project, but, at the same time, we’re both trying to figure out how to keep it professional.

In other words, it’s messy.

“I was just wondering about security,” I say, pushing my pasta back and forth on my plate. “I don’t know how it’s logistically possible to have security with me at all times.”

“Why?”

“I’m staying with my friend Zahra. She lives with her boyfriend and her apartment is tiny. How do I have security there with me? Does a guard just, like, sleep over? And even if they did, there’s literally no room.”