Chapter 9
Grafton
It’s been months since the Christmas party, and I still haven’t been able to scrub Lynley Delcourt from my mind, even knowing she is married to another man.
I had been battling regret, hating that I never approached her and spoke to her, never figured out the exact shade of her eyes—a bright cornflower blue that seems to see straight through me.
I know what it’s like to be betrayed by someone I thought I could trust—two of them, even—so I would never have approached her while she was taken. But when I discovered Delcourt’s duplicity, my moral compass wasn’t straight enough to turn down the opportunity he had unwittingly given me.
I sit back against the plush leather chair, my hands clenched into fists against the armrests, unable to pull my eyes away from the settee in the corner. I can still see the way she perched on the edge of the cushion, hands tucked primly into her lap.
She’d been close enough for her sweet perfume to fill my lungs; close enough for me to see the faintest dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, hiding under a light coverage of makeup.
Lynley had been wary, understandably so. She probably was able to sense the underlying need that consumed me—an edge of darkness that drew me to her like a compulsion.
I came on too hard and too fast. I could see the agitation almost vibrating her skin as she tried pushing herself as far as she could into the corner of the couch, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
“Grafton.” I look up as Judith pokes her head around the office door, a grimace on her face. “Your brother is here to see you.”
My brow knits together. “Does he have an appointment?” My assistant shakes her head, and I sigh, checking the time. “Send him in, but give me a five-minute warning before the Kingswell Financial conference call.”
She gives me a cheeky salute. “You want coffee?”
I hesitate, not wanting anything that might encourage Thatcher to linger, but my stomach growls out a protest. “Yes, and a pastry,” I grumble.
Judith smirks at me as she backs out of the doorway. A second later, my brother is here, pushing the door firmly shut behind him, eyeing me with annoyance already etched across his face.
“Grafton.”
“Thatcher,” I return, not bothering to stand as he approaches my desk. “Surprised to see you here this early.”
Irritation flickers through his blue eyes—a darker shade than my own. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said.”
His idea of hard work is organizing appointments with his financial investor to get a report on the growth of his trust fund. He doesn’t have an ambitious bone in his body… And as if he knows what I’m thinking, the tips of his ears go red.
“I’m here about Angelica.”
I steeple my fingers together, giving him a long look. “What about her?”
“You’ve got her doing scut work,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Did you know she was here until eleven last night? She’s exhausted, and you’re not even paying her what she’s worth, let alone overtime.”
I don’t look away from him, even as my interest piques at the information he’s unwittingly giving me.
“I pay her for the role she has,” I remind him.
“She’s an intern, and I don’t play with nepotism at my company.
She’ll work her way through the ranks, just like everyone else.
I already did her a favor by taking her on early. ”
His eyes darken as he steps closer, his legs almost hitting my desk. He’s staring down at me—an assertion of power that he doesn’t have. “And what about the late hours?” he demands. “Surely, she deserves to be compensated for that! She’s worked late every day this week.”
“Has she?” I smile coldly. “That’s interesting, considering she actually left early every day this week.”
His eyes bug out. “Are you calling my daughter a liar?”
“No,” I counter. “But I am telling you what our employee records state, as well as the time stamps on the security footage.”
Thatcher blusters some more, just to save face, but I can see he’s thrown by my lack of reaction. Although I’m not sure if he actually believes his daughter is telling the truth.
I can guess where Angelica was, but I won’t pop his delusional bubble. He’s not my problem and, ultimately, neither is his daughter.
A knock precedes Judith as she brings two coffees and brown paper bags from the coffee shop located in the building next door. The scent of warmed cinnamon fills the room as she sets them on my desk, and I’m already reaching for one before she’s at the door.
“Thank you, Judith,” I call after her. I pull out the cinnamon roll and take a massive bite, ignoring the way Thatcher’s watching me, his expression irate.
I did him a favor by hiring Angelica, and while she’s been helpful in some regards, she’s also unprofessional as hell.
She doesn’t complete tasks assigned to her and spends more time gossiping than any-fucking-thing else.
Angelica has been at the agency for less than a month, and HR already has a file on her—including more than one complaint about her clothing choices.
“Grafton,” my brother growls. “You need to help her.”
I swallow my mouthful. “Why?”
He splutters. “Why? What do you mean, why? She’s my daughter. Your niece!”
“She’s an adult, Thatcher. Responsible for her own choices. I did what you asked. I gave her a job, an opportunity. It’s not my problem if she chooses to waste it.” I smile grimly. “In fact, if anything, I would say the responsibility rests firmly on your shoulders as her parent.”
“Grafton—”
“You should talk to Meredith about your daughter,” I say easily. “She is Angelica’s mother, isn’t she?”
He blanches, but it only lasts a beat before his face tightens, his eyes narrowing spitefully. “You know full well that she is,” he says smugly. “And I knew you were still bitter about the fact that you couldn’t hold on to a woman like her.”
I don’t even try to stifle the bark of laughter. “You mean the woman you’re divorced from?” I shake my head, not even bothering to argue. Meredith and I met twice, and I was considering asking her on a date when Thatcher swooped in, determined to win her from me.
And win he did, the viper.
“I think we’re done here,” I say shortly. “If you leave now”—I check my watch—“you should catch Angelica coming back from her two-hour lunch break. Maybe you can talk to her about her work ethic.”
His nostrils flare with barely restrained rage as he spins on his heel, storming out of my office and slamming the door behind him. I finish my cinnamon roll with relish, wiping my fingers just as my phone buzzes. I grab it, my lips tilting at the message waiting for me.
My Lynne
I have some time today.
A simple message, and yet my heart skips a beat like I’m a teenager with his first crush, and not a man who has recently turned forty. I stare at the message, curiosity sifting through me, wondering whether she has confronted Christopher with what she learned.
I didn’t enjoy showing her those videos, even if they served a higher purpose. Hurting this woman will never be something I seek to do—another reason I will never deny her now.
Grafton
I’m free for lunch. Meet me at Rosetta Cafe at 12.
She reads the message straight away, but doesn’t immediately reply. My smile widens, imagining her sitting with her phone in her hand, wondering what to tell me.
Lynley has been neglected, starved, and I don’t think she even realizes it. But there’s something she’ll come to learn about me; I’m a man who knows what he wants, and I’m not afraid to burn down the obstacles in my path to get it.
The last few months, I’ve had my hands tied behind my back, trapped between horrendous jealousy of her asshole husband and unmitigated rage that she is trapped by someone who has no clue about the kind of treasure he holds.
I’m a different kind of man from Christopher Delcourt, and once Lynley is mine, she’ll never doubt where she falls in my priorities and affections.
My Lynne
I’m not sure that’s a good idea.
Grafton
Of course it is.
Grafton
See you then, Lynley.
The bubbles that indicate she’s typing come and go for several minutes before disappearing completely, but I’m not worried. I’m confident she’ll find the courage to meet with me, now knowing I have the ability to untangle her from her husband.
Arrogant? Maybe.
But I’ve been around long enough to know when a woman is attracted to me, and I’m not above using that. Lynley’s not the kind of woman who will give in before her marriage is completely and legally dissolved, but when she’s free?
I’ll be here, waiting for her.