Gray’s hand finds mine now, squeezing once in silent support. My stomach drops. There’s only one reason Alyssa and her father would show up unannounced.
“Send them in,” my father sighs, standing.
The door opens wider, and Thomas Palmer strides in with Alyssa trailing behind him. They both freeze when they spot me and Gray on the couch.
“Carson,” Palmer says, recovering quickly. “I apologize for the intrusion, but Alyssa has something important she needs to tell you.”
Alyssa’s eyes dart between me and Gray, pure hatred blazing in them. I feel Gray’s body tense beside me, ready for confrontation.
“Please sit and tell me what’s so urgent,” my father says, gesturing to the remaining chairs.
Palmer glances at us again. “Perhaps we could speak privately?”
“What is this about, Thomas?” My father’s voice has that edge to it now, the one that makes board members tremble.
“It’s about your son,” Palmer replies stiffly. “And his…bodyguard.”
My father’s eyebrows rise. “Well, since it concerns Wyatt and Mr. Holt, shouldn’t they stay?”
Alyssa can’t contain herself any longer. “Your son is fucking his bodyguard!” She blurts out, her face twisting with malicious satisfaction. “I walked in on them this morning. They were—”
“We’re aware of Wyatt and Mr. Holt’s relationship,” my father cuts her off, his tone glacier-cold.
Alyssa’s mouth snaps shut, her eyes widening in confusion.
“You…know?” Palmer looks equally stunned.
“We were just discussing it before you arrived,” my mother says, rising to her feet with the elegant poise that’s made her the queen of Manhattan society. “Though I fail to see how it’s any of your business.”
Heat creeps up my neck. I can’t believe my parents are standing here calmly discussing someone walking in on us. Gray squeezes my hand again, his thumb stroking small circles against my skin.
Palmer flounders. “But surely, Carson, you can’t approve of this…arrangement. A bodyguard getting involved with his client is highly unprofessional. Not to mention—”
“Not to mention what, Thomas?” My father’s voice drops dangerously low.
Palmer hesitates. “Well, the…nature of the relationship.”
“Thomas, if I were you, I’d choose my words very carefully right now,” my father says, all pretense of politeness evaporating. “While I appreciate your…concern, my son’s personal life is none of your business. Now, was there anything else you wanted to discuss? Perhaps the Singapore deal?”
Palmer looks thrown. “I thought—”
“You thought you could use this information to manipulate us,” my mother interrupts. Her voice remains pleasant, but there’s steel underneath. “Perhaps to salvage the business relationship after your daughter’s indiscretion?”
Alyssa flushes an ugly shade of red.
“I would appreciate it,” my mother continues, “if you and Alyssa would refrain from disturbing my son or Mr. Holt again. Otherwise, I might need to involve our lawyers.”
I’ve never seen my mother like this. A protective lioness with claws fully extended. It’s terrifying and awesome at the same time.
“This is absurd,” Alyssa snaps. “Wyatt and I were going to get back together. We had an understanding.”
I laugh. “No, we didn’t.”
“I made a mistake! One mistake!” Her voice rises to a near-shriek.
“And I made one good decision,” I counter, nodding toward Gray. “Finally.”
My father clears his throat. “I believe we’re done here. Thomas, I’ll call you about the Singapore deal next week.”
