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“Ya, you and me both…” Johnathan aggressively rubs his hands over his temples.
I can clearly see the anguish on his face, and I know something isn’t quite right. If he was “in the know” about this whole thing, he was really good at keeping up this whole “not knowing” facade. But to my surprise, I can see through the anguish, and I feel my heart go out to him, like I can sense the pain in his soul. For some weird reason, I still trust him, but I don’t know why, so I’m going to table that for now. I don’t know if it was because of the other night, but I want to help him figure this out. Then I can leave and find another job.
“Well, I can’t say that I completely trust you, but I’d like to help.”
“That’s fair,” he says, looking up, gazing past me as he’s consumed by his own thoughts. “And I’d appreciate the help.” His phone buzzes and he takes it out to see the notification. “I gotta go.” He sighs, sliding his phone back into his pocket.
“I’ll keep this up for a few more hours and then go home,” I say flippantly, trying to act like I’ve shut down all romantic feelings for him. “Enjoy your dinner tonight,” I uncontrollably blurt out, hoping to punch him in the stomach with those words. Guess it’s going to take more work to get rid of those feelings completely.
“Thanks,” he grumbles as he walks out.
CHAPTER23
Johnathan
In the chaosof the day, I completely forgot about my little meeting with my viper of a wife. I make my way back out the door. Maybe this conversation tonight will be a good thing. Maybe I’ll finally be able to set myself free.
* * *
I stand outsideof Le Chatue, tapping my foot impatiently. I sent for Isabella’s car over an hour ago and she still hasn’t shown up. So much for our reservations. I hope Kylie got home safe. When I called back at the office to check in before arriving at the restaurant, she was gone. I doubt that she would’ve thought to call downstairs and ask for someone to take her home. We have so many cars at our disposal, it’s almost excessive. Especially when most of our meetings need no more than an elevator ride. Speaking of business…
The black company-issued car rolls around the corner, and I take a deep breath, a cloud of smoke forming as I exhale. If I’m going to get out of this deal, I have to play it cool. Time to put my skills as a lawyer to the test.
I hold open the door for Isabella and extend my hand out to her. “I hope they’ll still seat us. It’s long past our reservation.”
“No, it’s not.” She grabs my hand for support and walks past me.
“You texted six o’clock.”
“Yes, for my car to be ready,” she snaps, flinging open the door to the restaurant.
I’m surprised the glass doesn’t shatter with the force I slam the car door. This might be impossible to get through if all I want to do is wring her scrawny neck. I follow her inside to my doom. Let the games begin.
The hostess recognizes Isabella at a glance and quickly scrambles for two menus before leading us away. Her heels clack loudly with every step, and a few people stare at us as we pass. The kind of looks reserved for royalty or celebrities. I faintly catch the whispers about us from a nearby table. The king and queen of the Ronsberry firm are out for a stroll. Great. My reputation is now something people discuss over soup and oyster crackers. The sooner I can talk to Isabella about our deal, the better.
Our table sits separate from the rest. A hand-painted portrait of a woman and man dancing hangs above us, and I unbutton my jacket before having a seat.
Isabella looks down at her menu with pursed lips. Even doing something as simple as ordering a meal makes her look so unsatisfied. I guess Saint Isabella isn’t making an appearance today. Although, judging by the reaction of the hostess, appearances aren’t necessary here.
“So,” I pick up my own menu, “what’s good here?”
“Everything here sucks except the liquor.” She scoffs.
“Weren’t you the one that chose this place?”
“Indeed.”
She sets down her menu and laces her fingers in front of her. It seems like we’re not here to eat after all.
“What do you want to discuss?” I ask, glancing up from my menu. “Specifically, I mean.”
“As you know, our agreement was both signed by our fathers. But with Frank out of the picture, that contract is now null and void.”
I do my best not to jump out of my chair and scream with excitement. I can hardly contain my smile. How did I not think of this?
“So I want fifty percent of your company,” she says smugly, clearly enjoying the fade of my excitement.
I snap my focus from the entrees to her stupidly pinched face. “Excuse me?”
