Page 102 of Merging Wright

What the hell is happening here? A look passes between Myles and Jane before my brother narrows his eyes at me.

“I’m not leaving.” The firmness in his voice is for Jane’s benefit, although he’s glaring at me. He isn’t going to leave her alone with me.

“Do you think I’d hurt her?” The question pops out much like the last one I asked. My thoughts are spiraling. Myles knows I love hard, but I’d never lay a hand on a woman.

“He doesn’t have to think about it,” Jane says, turning her head to me for the first time. Her tone suggests she knows I’d never harm her, but I still feel the need to defend myself.

“I’d never touch you like that.”

Jane shifts her body to face me better. Her arms drop, hands fist. “You’ll never touch me again.”

The words are like a sucker punch to the gut. I lift both hands as if surrendering to her. “Let’s just back up here. What are we talking about?”

Jane grits her teeth. “I heard your phone call with Tucker.”

My arms lower, brow lifting. “You were eavesdropping?”

“I don’t think that’s the point.” Her gaze holds mine, a thunderstorm of emotion within those normally clear blue eyes. “You aren’t making me a partner.”

A second slam comes to my stomach. “Jane, I—”

“You made me an offer because you needed me . . . no, you needed a wife.” She grounds out the word like it’s dirty and distasteful. She swipes a hand through her long, loose hair and then holds a clump at her nape. “You lied to me.”

“Jane, I can explain.” Her eyes close, and she shakes her head, but I continue. “Ashe and I agreed. It’s in our bylaws as partners. No additional partners. We never wanted to risk someone taking from us what we built on our own.”

Her eyes snap open. “Because you think I’d do that?”

“No. Jane. No. The rules were written before you were ever a part of our company.” Before she was ever part of my heart, which feels like it’s being sent through a shredder and headed for the trash. “This was about Rochelle, Tucker’s wife. He didn’t want her to have a piece of his company. He wanted something for himself.” His story was long and not necessary to get into now.

“You know about my father,” I state and ignore the sharp intake of breath from Myles. Yeah, I told her our secret. But Myles isn’t consequential yet. “Ashe and I wanted to prove we could do something on our own, for us, without the Ashford name.”

I don’t actually bear the Ashford name. I’m a Wright, through and through, which might explain the stubbornness I inherited from my grandfather. I have my father’s name as my middle name, though, and Myles has Ashford as his. The secret of our patronage was within us all along.

Jane continues to stare at me. “Rules can be changed.”

“They can, but Ashe—”

“Do not blame this on him.” Jane clenches her teeth.

“Fine. We don’t want to change.” I exhale and swipe a hand over my face. “Jane, it isn’t that you aren’t worthy. You’re important to the company. You’re equal to the task. We just don’t have the title to offer you.”

Her mouth falls open and then her molars clack when she snaps her jaw closed again.

Myles clears his throat, and I turn on him. “You’re still here?” Why the hell hasn’t he silently excused himself, allowing us the privacy we deserve? “This is a private matter between husband and wife.”

“Is it?” Jane has my attention. “This sounds to me like a business concern. Your company has a policy, but you invoked a promise. And I’m your best account executive. You’d hate to lose me . . . from Impact.”

Her emphasis has me confused. I would hate to lose her from Impact, but I’d hate to lose her from my life even more.

“You are our best executive. I just said that. You’re a team player. Loyal. Dedicated. I couldn’t have done what we’ve done in Wrightwood without you.” We work well together. She’s smart and creative. She took over this project. We wouldn’t have been as far along without her management. We need her even more with this new setback.

But it’s more than her handling this town.

She’s stood by me in this mess.

“You couldn’t have done this without me.” Jane slowly repeats what I’ve just said. She shakes her head, disappointment in every waggle. “I think you can. I’m going back to Chicago.”

“What?” I step closer to her, but she steps back.