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“Ms. Vega, tell me, how did this alliance come to be?”
Damn it.
I sunk into the chair looking anywhere but his face. It had taken all my courage just to get in the car.
“She blackmailed us,” Vivian said simply.
Apparently I was too soft.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THEA
By the time we reached the office, Atticus was already there. Levi—Professor Black, screw it, I was just going to call him Levi or else I was going to go crazy, was as cold as ever in the car. When Vivian stated that I had blackmailed them, he just looked down at his phone, not saying a word.
“Your coffee, sir,” Atticus said, handing him a cup as we all entered the elevator.
“Stop kissing my ass Mr. Logan, or you’ll get stuck there,” Levi replied, taking the cup from him and drinking. He had to stop himself from spitting it out. “What is this?”
“Coffee?”
“This is not coffee!” he snapped, handing it back to Atticus.
Vivian and I held our breaths, biting our lips to keep from laughing.
“Nice,” I whispered to him, as we got off the elevator.
It was the first time we had been up here since the Archibald case, and I was finally able to take it all in. On the wall to my right, written in bold, black, glass letters was Levi’s name. Within the building, there was a buzz of activity, as countless associates moved about from one end to another.
At that moment, Tristan came out, dressed sharply in a three-piece suit, and handed him a newspaper.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“Raymond just brought her into the conference room.”
They both ignored us as they walked down the hallway, and we wordlessly followed. Once again, it was like we were invisible. Anyone that saw Levi coming, either turned away, or kept their head down and walked past him as fast as they could. But even that wasn’t fast enough.
“You, with the coffee stain, go home until you figure out where your mouth is.” Levi pointed to a man halfway down the hall.
Jeez.
“Does she look like she did it?” he asked us at the door of the conference room.
I could see the woman; she was Hispanic, with long dark hair, and red-rimmed eyes. She was dressed in all black, and even had a small lace veil stemming from her hat, as if she needed to prove to the world she was mourning her husband.
“No,” Atticus answered.
Vivian nodded, “Yes.”
And then his green eyes fell on me.
“I’m not sure.”
“Get sure then. Same rules as the Archibald case,” he said as he opened the door.
“What are the rules?” Vivian whispered, as we entered.
“Sit down, shut up, and don’t make him look bad,” I said rushing to the corner.
