Chapter 15 #2
Vaughn’s fingers drummed on the desk, the sound sharp and rhythmic, like a ticking time bomb. “What you don’t understand is that I don’t need you to share duties. I did just fine while you were off finding yourself.”
There it was—the barb I’d been waiting for.
He’d been holding it back, and now he’d finally let it loose.
My jaw tightened as I fought to keep my emotions in check.
I’d taken that time away because I needed to grieve, to think without the weight of the office crushing me.
But Vaughn clearly saw it as a weakness.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’m not here to undermine you, Vaughn. I’m here because this is my job, too. We’re supposed to be a team.”
His gaze flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough to tell me he wasn’t completely indifferent. “Maybe you should’ve stayed in Europe,” he muttered, barely loud enough for me to hear.
The words stung, but I refused to let him see it. “Maybe you should stop acting like the world is on your shoulders alone. We’re in this together, whether you like it or not.”
For a moment, silence hung between us, thick and heavy. Vaughn’s eyes searched mine, as if looking for something—weakness, maybe, or resolve. I held his gaze, refusing to back down.
Finally, he sighed, the tension in his posture easing just a fraction. “Fine. But don’t expect me to hold your hand through this.”
“I never needed you to,” I replied, turning on my heel and walking out of his office.
As the door closed behind me, I couldn’t help but wonder if this fragile alliance we’d formed was about to shatter. Vaughn had always been a challenge, but this was different. This was war, and I wasn’t backing down.
I returned to my office, wrapping up the last few tasks of the day.
By the time I glanced at the clock, it was already 6 p.m. I stepped out into the hallway and noticed Vaughn's office was dark. The few remaining employees were engrossed in their work, and the executives had mostly left. I had expected Vaughn to wait so we could travel to the hotel together, but it seemed he’d had other plans. No message, no heads-up—just gone.
Dinner was scheduled for 6:30, and with the hotel several blocks away, I needed to move quickly.
The traffic was a nightmare, and finding a cab was just as bad.
I barely made it, arriving a few minutes before the appointed time.
The hostess led me to the private room, where I found Vaughn and Silas Bass already seated.
A quick glance at the table revealed no place setting for me. Vaughn didn’t even acknowledge my arrival, his attention fixed elsewhere. Silas, on the other hand, greeted me with a wide, somewhat predatory smile.
"Who is this? Your wife?" Silas asked, his tone dripping with casual arrogance.
"Not even close. This is my father's widow," Vaughn replied dismissively, as if I were an afterthought.
I extended my hand, refusing to let Vaughn’s attitude diminish me. "Josephine Ashworth. I share CEO duties with Vaughn."
Silas took my hand, his grip firm but overly familiar. "I'm sorry about your husband," he said, pulling out a chair for me with exaggerated chivalry.
"Thank you. Colson is missed," I replied, settling into the seat. As I did, I noticed a bottle of Macallan on the table, a clear sign that Silas was already indulging in our hospitality.
Silas wasted no time trying to charm me, leaning in with a smirk as he cracked jokes and made small talk.
Vaughn, meanwhile, sat brooding, his eyes never leaving Silas.
I was relieved when the server arrived to take our orders, providing a brief respite from the tension at the table.
But as soon as the server left, Silas resumed his performance, directing most of his conversation toward me.
"So, what do you plan to do after you sell?" Vaughn interrupted, his tone sharp, cutting through Silas’s attempts at banter.
Silas barely glanced at Vaughn, his hand moving to rest on my shoulder, far too familiar for my liking. "Live," he said with a smirk, then turned to me. "I'm sure you understand. You're quite young and should enjoy life."
"Bass, take your hand off her," Vaughn growled, the warning clear in his voice.
I could feel the tension rise, but I didn’t flinch. Silas's behavior was inappropriate, but I didn’t need Vaughn to defend me. I straightened in my chair, locking eyes with Silas.
"Mr. Bass," I said calmly, removing his hand from my shoulder with a firm grip. "I appreciate the sentiment, but let's keep this professional."
Silas chuckled, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he realized I wasn't someone to be trifled with. Vaughn’s glare remained intense, but he stayed silent, clearly battling with himself not to say more.
The rest of the dinner was strained, Vaughn’s hostility barely contained and Silas’s charm growing increasingly forced.
By the time the meal ended, it was clear that while the merger was on track, the tension between us was far from resolved.
As I rose to leave, Vaughn finally spoke, his voice low and tense.
“Next time, we do this my way.”
I met his gaze, refusing to back down. “As long as we’re partners, Vaughn, we do this our way.”
Without waiting for a response, I walked out, feeling Vaughn’s eyes on my back, the battle lines drawn. I wasn’t about to let him win. Not this time.