Chapter Twenty-Nine. Holden
TWENTY-NINE
Holden
“This is what you have me doing with my time now?” Audrey asks. “I assure you it’s more valuable than buying a skateboard.”
“Have you always voiced your opinions this loudly?” I ask and lean back in my chair to stare at her over my steepled fingers.
“No, but it seems you need more directing now than you ever did.”
“Directing?”
“Yes.” The faintest of smiles turns up the corners of her lips. “Keeping you in your lane.”
“Bullshit.”
“Do you love her?”
I cough over my next breath. “What the fuck, Audrey?”
“It’s a valid question, is it not?”
“No.”
“No, it’s not valid, or no, you’re not in love with her.” She lifts her eyebrows.
“Do you have a point to this?”
“It’s my job to make you aware of anything I see hindering you completing this project.
And I see you paying a teenager for his work for I don’t know what.
Then you ask me to buy him a skateboard and question how much all new baseball gear is.
I also see you dodging out of meetings to take calls from a certain female employee.
And you sure as shit aren’t hiding the way you look at her and the silly smile you get when you hang up with her. ”
“Your point?”
“You’re too close, too invested.”
“Maybe I’m keeping her close to the vest so that I know what’s going on in the Rothschild world.”
“And maybe you’re letting the lines blur between sex, loyalty, and love.”
“If I wanted a lecture, I’d call my mom.”
“But you’re not and that’s telling in and of itself. Even more telling is how defensive you’re being right now, not because I’m calling you on the carpet with this but because you know I’m right and don’t want to admit it.”
I grit my teeth and stew at her words and withering stare. “I know what I’m doing.”
“You mean the fucking Rowan at the same time she’s engaged to Chad part, or were we talking about something else?”
The fact that her saying that—“fucking Rowan”—has me rolling my shoulders should tell me all I need to know.
She’s right.
I’m too fucking close.
It’s not like that’s a news flash or anything, so why can’t I step the fuck back?
“Exactly. You just made my point for me. If I were in love with Rowan, do you think I’d let that fuckwit anywhere near her?”
“There’s more going on there than you’re letting on though. I’ve known you long enough.”
“Then you’d know you’re about five steps too far over the line you’re not supposed to cross. Step back, Audrey, or we’re going to have a problem.”
She’s visibly shaken by the threat in my tone. She opens her mouth to say something and then stops herself before rising to her feet and moving toward the door.
She clears her throat. “Jules said she is running late. She should be here in about ten minutes.”
“Send her in when she gets here,” I say of my real estate agent. The pencil skirt Rowan was jealous of.
Maybe I should have her come back at another time when Rowan is here. Wouldn’t that help with her attachment issues?
Then again, if she’s hurt in the end—that’s supposed to be no skin off my back, right?
So why doesn’t it feel like it?
Audrey pauses and looks back at me. “Are you really having Jules look at buying up pieces of Fairmont so Rhett can’t touch it?”
“Are you going to tell me that that’s being too close too?” The comment is unfounded and immature but gets my point across.
“No.” She looks down and then back up. “I think it’s poetic justice.”
With that she strides out of the room, and I’m left with her words swirling in my head.
Poetic justice is a tricky thing. Especially when what I’m doing that seems to be virtuous is also a misdeed.
But Audrey is right on so many other levels.
How in the hell could I ever assume there could be anything more with Rowan after the plans I have for TinSpirits and her family? After I handily piecemeal her company apart, ruin her brother’s and possibly her family’s reputation, and reveal to the world just how goddamn corrupt they are?
There will be no going back from there.
I will be the monster.
I am the monster.
I will be exactly who I came here to be.