I smiled and tried to hide my horror as he approached. "No, you can't. Unlike your previous employees, I will not tolerate it."
When he reached me, I stared him down. Oh, God, this was a mistake. A huge mistake.
"If you put your hands on me, that's going to be a problem. Because not only will I file a lawsuit against you so fast your head will spin, you will also likely go to jail or be dead. You're going to hope for jail because my husband will make sure that you die if your free."
He laughed. "You think I'm fucking afraid of your husband? It's him who should be afraid of me. You really don't know what I'm capable of, do you, Varma?"
I could smell the scotch on his breath.
"I understand that you're angry, and clearly you've been drinking a little. So maybe if you want to have a conversation about what's going on here, we can."
He blinked rapidly. I needed to get out of this safely. No more backtalk. I just had to get out.
Out of the blue, he said, "You're off the Price account."
"Why? I handled it perfectly."
"Because I say so."
"You're angry with me for some reason. Maybe you can tell me why you're so angry and I can help you address the problems." As I spoke, I inched my way around the table, putting more space between us. I was closer to the door then. "What's wrong with my work on the Price account?"
"He's unhappy with how you're dealing with the situation with his wife."
"Well, I'm sorry he's not happy, but it is what it is. The police are going to ask questions. They’re going to want answers. There's nothing I can do about that. We have managed to keep it out of the press. We have also managed to keep him out of jail, so I don't understand what the issue is."
"I don't like your handling or your attitude. From now on, I'll be dealing with him."
"As you wish. It's your company."
"Also, the Zicks account with London Lords, I'll be dealing with it. I wouldn't want to make things difficult for you and your husband. I’m sure you assumed you would be primary.” He waited for a response, but when I didn’t reply, he continued. “So, what? No complaints that I'm keeping you away from your precious husband?"
"This is my job. I can separate anything personal."
He studied me long and hard then with his brows drawn down. "Why did you marry him?"
"Because I love him."
"You don't love him. You don't know him."
"I do know him. I've known him my whole life. Any other questions about my personal life?"
"You're such a little bitch."
My heart started thudding, and I knew that I was in trouble. If I wasn't careful, I was not going to get out of this.
Stay steady. Stay even. Get the fuck out of dodge.
"Look, you're unhappy. I was late today, and I do apologize. It was unavoidable. In the future, should I be late, I'll make sure to give you as much advance notice as I can."
He inched toward me. "Do you know why I hired you?"
I tried for a tremulous smile. Inch. Inch. Inch. Closer and closer, almost near the door.
"I hired you because I felt sorry for you. Orphan girl who didn't know what happened to her brother. And I hate to admit it, but I was always a little obsessed with you. Do you know what’s so attractive about you?"
I swallowed hard and shook my head, inching just a smidgeon closer to the door.
"It’s because you're fire. I never met anyone quite like you. Always ready to run straight into danger, but feisty about it. I didn't think you were for me, but I can't get you out of my head, Emma Varma. And then you chose him, which was wrong."
I swallowed hard. "I recognize that you don't really like Bridge. But you are going to be working together."
And with those words, it was as if he blinked himself awake. He glanced around and saw me. "What?"
"You and Bridge and the London Lords? You do have an RFP from them, right? To manage one of their largest accounts?"
His brow furrowed, and then he nodded. "Yes." Suddenly, his stance changed. He was more relaxed. It was like the fury had either been bottled back up or just flew off him somehow. He tried to force a small smile. "Obviously, I've had too much to drink. I'm sorry, Emma. I thought maybe you and I could have a drink, get to know each other better, and then I started too early when you were running late. Obviously. And I'm sorry. My behavior tonight was completely inappropriate."
What was happening here? "I—"
"You don't have to say anything. I overstepped and have put you in an awkward position. Please forgive me. I am going now."
He started marching toward the door, and I had no other recourse but to scoot out of the way and back toward the window. He noticed that, and his upper lip curled just a hint. The derision was clear there, but he nodded and walked out without further comment.
Fuck. With shaking hands, I reached into my purse, pulled out my phone, and then quickly dialed Bridge. "Bridge, please hurry and get up here." I gave him directions to the conference room I was in, then grabbed one of the alcohol bottles from the cabinet as well as the ice pick. I positioned myself just behind the door. I only had to wait three minutes. That was exactly how long it took to get upstairs. Three fucking minutes.
I wasn't sure what had happened tonight with Middleton. Did something flip in him? He was no longer in any kind of mood to be affable or to pretend. The mask had slipped, and when he readjusted it, it wasn't a good fit anymore. It was like I could see the monster on either side of the mask. And once he revealed it, that was all I could see. If he’d had the time and opportunity, he could have killed me.
Easily.
Thirty-Four
Bridge
My hands shook. "I'm going to bloody kill him."
In the living room of our villa, I stared at Emma, unable to believe or comprehend what she had been telling me. Francis Middleton had threatened her. He was dead.
All that rage I usually kept banked, the fury, the anger, a complete lack of remorse about how other people felt, I wanted to let it all out. He’d threatened what was mine. And for that, he had to die.
Emma watched me pace. "Bridge, we still have a job to do."
I turned around and glared at her. "You're kidding me."
"I wish I was, but you know I still have a job to do. I know it, and you know it. This changes nothing."
"You want to go back?"
"I need to. You, of all people, know that. You know what all of this means. We still don't have anything we can use. You can't burn him. Ben's hands are tied. What are we supposed to do?"
I still hadn't told her what her father had said. Unfortunately, what he told me mirrored this. Unless we had a reason to get rid of Middleton, there would be no getting rid of him.
And he’d remain free, while Toby was dead, and Emma was always afraid. And I could do nothing to protect her, nothing to save her.
On the video monitor, we had East and Telly, both on their different screens. Telly’s voice was concerned. "Ems, I'm so sorry we don't have enough to put away Middleton. It’s all minor. Things that can be explained away. The reason we couldn’t decrypt that drive was the sheer amount of data packets in it. It's the kind of thing you need a supercomputer for.”