“I’m not surprised.” I smile sweetly. “You’re already such a gigantic prick.”
“Sign.”
I read through the paragraphs and get the gist. No interviews, no talking to anyone about Alexander. I am allowed to say he found me and gave me shelter but can’t give a single detail about what happened in our time at the cabin. I have to wonder if Hayes knows about what went on in the cabin. Alexander doesn’t strike me as the kiss-and-tell type. “Does your brother know about this?”
“It’s standard procedure.”
“That doesn’t exactly answer my question.”
His hazel eyes, so close to the color of Alexander’s, bore into mine and glimmer with barely restrained rage. I almost smile at the familiarity of it.
No, I do smile. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll sign it if Alexander brings it to me himself.”
He sighs. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” He reaches into his inner coat pocket and pulls out a check. “If you sign.” He slides the check in front of me.
My eyeballs nearly fall out of my skull. “Twenty-thousand dollars?”
“Sign it, and the money is yours.”
I could do so much with twenty grand. I could move out, replace my wardrobe, and have time to find a new job, a better job. Signing this agreement and accepting the money could be the answer to all my problems. Except… what does it say about me? That I’m some dirty stain he can erase from his history. That our time together meant so little I could be bribed into secrecy. He may be used to buying his way through life, but I can’t be bought. I refuse to devalue what we shared by reducing it to a dollar amount.
I close the pages and slip them back into the folder, then stand and slap the folder into Hayes’ chest. “The answer is no.”
He smiles, but it’s all teeth. “Do you really want to go up against me? I have resources on speed dial that could ruin a person’s life.”
“That’s cute.” I pinch his cheek, and he pulls his face away. “You assume my life could be ruined any more than it already is.” I force a grin. “Now, if you would please get the fuck out of my apartment.”
“You’re going to regret this.”
“I highly doubt that.”
He turns on his heel and moves like a man with all the confidence in the world. He walks out of my apartment and doesn’t bother himself with closing the door.
I chuckle, finding his pissy attitude kind of refreshing. I can see why he and Alexander are so close. They have the same frigid people skills.
I miss that grumpy asshole.
Alexander
“Good morning, Mr. North.” My assistant Mrs. Miller stands at her desk as I approach. “I hope you’re well-rested.”
I answer her with a grunt as I pass by her into my office. The truth is I slept like shit. An adjustment period is to be expected after spending that much time in a different place. I found my bed to be too soft, the pillows suffocating, the temperature too ideal, and the silence deafening. I ached to hear her breathing, tossing and turning, and even her hissing in pain when she’d roll over too hastily in her sleep.
A strange pang formed in my chest as I laid in the dark, in the quiet stillness, without a thing to focus on but the sound of my own pulse. The aftershock of that dull pain is still with me.
Mrs. Miller follows me into my office. “You have a ten o’clock meeting with Mr. North Senior, a lunch meeting at Terraza with the representatives from Lorde, and a conference call with Los Angeles at two, sir.” She taps on her iPad. “I forwarded you emails that need your attention. Oh, and Hayes phoned and asked to be put on your schedule at your earliest convenience.”
I drape my suit coat over a chair. “Why?”
“He didn’t say. Only that it must be today,” she says while she picks up my coat and puts it on a wooden hanger in the closet.
“Fit him in.” I open my laptop and start working on my emails, all while feeling antsy to get to my design programs and start the work I enjoy. “Better be important,” I mumble to myself.
Eventually, I get through the emails and dig into design. Three hours feel like minutes, and when I look up from my desk, Mrs. Miller is waiting for me. “Sir, your meeting with North Senior.”
I shrug on my jacket and take the coffee Mrs. Miller offers me. We walk in silence down the long hallway to the corner executive office.
“Mr. North.” My dad’s very young and attractive assistant perks up when she sees me coming. “We’re so happy to have you back.”
I cringe at how easily she bunches herself in with my dad. There’s no doubt in my mind that they’re sleeping together. “We?”
“Miss Vogul,” my assistant swoops in to save me from hurting the woman’s feelings, “you look lovely today.”
The redhead blushes. “Thank you, Diana.”
“If you two are finished,” I grit through clenched teeth.
“Of course.” The redhead picks up her phone. “August? Alexander is here to see you.” Whatever my dad says makes her cheeks flame, and she giggles as she hangs up. “You can go on in.”
I push past her and into the office, Mrs. Miller at my side.
“Son!” August stands and reaches over his desk to shake my hand.
People have always said August North is something of a silver fox. They must be right because there isn’t a woman alive who doesn’t seem to fall for his charm. His wife, however, seems happy to turn a blind eye as long as her allowance isn’t affected.
“Diana,” he says to my assistant with a charming smile. “Would you mind giving me and my son some privacy?”
“Of course, Mr. North.” She steps out of the office, and when the door closes behind her, I have a pretty good feeling of what’s to come.
“I heard you had an interesting experience at the cabin.” He sits back into his seat while I take the leather chair in front of his desk. “Hayes tells me there was a woman?” His tone is casual, but he’s clearly digging for information. I’ve told Hayes everything he needs to know about Jordan Wilder. The things he doesn’t need to know I’ll keep locked away just for me.
“Yes.”
He lifts his brows. “You want to tell me about her?”
“Nothing to tell.”
He drums his fingers against mahogany wood, his expression growing more serious. “I need to know she isn’t going to be a problem.”
“She won’t be.” Not to anyone but me—because the knowledge that I’ll never see her again feels like a big problem.
His chuckle is fake and condescending. “Forgive me if I’m skeptical.” When I don’t respond, he nods once as if understanding my unspoken fuck off. “Very well…”
I’m not stupid enough to think he’s dropping the issue for good.
“The charity event is in a few weeks. Are you prepared for that?”
“I wish you’d send Hudson in my place. He’s better with those things.”
“These people don’t want to rub elbows with our PR department. They want to say they were in the same room with the great Alexander North.”