Chapter 13 #2
“Hearthstone Foods is a family business. They care about their legacy more than about money. We updated the proposal to meet their needs,” I explain.
“And how do you propose we explain that to Vireon, Ro?” He finishes his whiskey and glares at me.
“Don’t call her that,” Liam snaps.
We both look at him. The energy in the room shifts. From tension to more tension.
“You know she doesn’t like it,” Liam adds.
I gape at him. Not only does he know I hate them calling me that, but he intervenes on my behalf? At the worst time ever, but that’s beside the point.
Corm clears his throat, and I turn back to him, finding my voice. Just barely.
“Our job is to bring the two companies together.” I cross my legs, hoping I can appear calm. “The Millers would not have sold it outright. You know that as well as Vireon. Presenting them with the original offer was pointless. Besides, Vireon doesn’t need to know we proposed that.”
Corm continues to glare, standing on the other side of his desk. It takes a lot of control not to stand up.
Not that I would match his height, but I wouldn’t feel like I’m being sent into detention.
“We can tell them this is Miller’s counteroffer. I ran the numbers; it’s still very beneficial for them.” If this backfires, I’m toast.
“So you ran the numbers.” Corm snorts. “That makes me feel much better.”
“We got the deal,” I snap, emotions burning my throat. Shit, I can’t get emotional. I can’t afford to show him a weakness.
“And we got it much faster than with your approach. We’re dealing with a counter-offer instead of a refusal,” Liam says.
God, I almost forgot he was here. If he hadn’t just made that point, I would have thought he had stayed quiet to let me drown.
But he is on my side. And I hate how much that steadies me.
“None of it changes the fact that I was kept out of the loop. Not only did you not seek my approval before going in, you didn’t tell me about it afterward.”
Fuck.
“That’s on me,” Liam says. “Roxy came up with the idea, but I thought it was easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission.” He shrugs, a picture of nonchalance. “If there’s blame, direct it at me.”
Corm’s jaw ticks.
“And I’d dial back on the attitude,” Liam adds.
A pulse jumps in my throat. Too fast. Too telling. Fuck. My spine snaps straight. The room tilts for a second.
Liam Stone keeps defending me. I should be offended.
I am offended.
But beneath the irritation, something far worse bubbles. His protectiveness… Jesus, it hits somewhere I don’t want to touch.
For a moment—a single, foolish moment—I forget how to breathe. Liam stands up for me like it’s obvious.
Expected.
Easy.
The warmth that sparks in my chest is terrifying enough that I shut it down immediately.
Who does he think he is, swooping in like that? And why does it feel… good?
I swallow and chance a look at Corm, who is busy in a glaring duel with Liam. Whatever they are communicating with their charged silence, I’m apparently left out. As so many times before.
Four more weeks of this, and I can relax. In the meantime, I need to stay focused. And be myself.
“Let me forward you the calculations, so you’re prepared to deliver the good news to Vireon.” I stand up.
Corm moves his scrutiny from Liam to me. “I’m forwarding you Miller’s email with their counter-proposal. You have thirty minutes to prepare all the arguments to get Vireon on board.”
“You will get it in twenty.” I have no idea how I am going to achieve that. But that’s a problem for the future. A very immediate one, but right now, I need to be capable and confident.
Corm looks at Liam, who stands up, shoving his hands into his pockets. Then he glances at me and back at Liam.
I almost forget to breathe, waiting for… I’m not even sure what, but this meeting gave Corm food for thought.
Did Liam defend me because there is something happening between us?
Did he take the blame to show he’s the better man?
Did he challenge Corm’s attitude to prove he could play with them and wouldn’t cower?
“What are you two waiting for?” Corm snaps, and takes his seat, moving his attention to his computer screen.
I turn on my heels, wondering who scored points here today. A tentative answer comes before I reach the door.
“You sit with me on the call, Roxy,” Corm says. “Your idea, your show.”
I try to hide my smile, but fuck, I needed to hear that.
“Why didn’t you tell him after the presentation?” Liam says as soon as the door closes.
“Why didn’t you?” I’m not ready to admit I forgot.
“I didn’t want to take credit for your idea.” He is looking at me as if I weren’t grasping basic math additions.
“Oh.”
I add to all his offenses that he renders me speechless. For a heartbeat, one wild, stupid heartbeat, it again feels like someone is in my corner.
And I don’t know what to do with that.
I don’t trust it. I don’t trust him. And yet a warmth unfurls low in my chest, sharp as panic.
“Why didn’t you tell him?” he demands.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. And I’d dial back on the attitude.” I throw his earlier words at him.
He laughs. Not a derisive snort. Not a teasing chuckle. He really laughs.
The sound comes from somewhere deep inside him, and it’s so unexpected and spontaneous, I almost start laughing myself.
“You have your moment.” I attempt to sound strict, but my lips are twitching. It’s some sort of delayed reaction to the tension from earlier in Corm’s office. “I have a presentation to prepare.”
I walk away, but Liam follows me. “Let me help you. You only have fifteen minutes left.”
My instinct is to snap at him. My body’s instinct is to lean in. “Fuck off,” I say, but there is no bite to it.
“You need my help.”
Jesus, the man will be the death of me. As infuriating as it is, though, I need his help.
“I said fuck off.” I guess I’m fighting him on principle. Jesus.
“No can do. Today’s lesson is accepting help with a simple thank you.”
“Keep dreaming.”
“I’ve been doing too much of that lately.”
His words fall between us like molten lava and a bucket of ice all at once. I turn so fast, my head spins, and I stumble.
Liam steadies me, his hands hot even through my leather jacket. “Jesus, did you have breakfast?”
“No,” I admit, heat rising in my cheeks. “I didn’t have time.”
“Let me fetch you something. You start on your presentation.”
“I’m okay. Don’t worry.”
“Shut up, Thunder. You keep dressing up your independence as stubbornness. That’s not a good look. You can be independent while accepting help. Accepting help isn’t a sign of weakness.”
I bristle, because he might be right. I bristle harder because he knows he’s right. I swallow.
I want to believe him. Life would be so much easier, but I can’t let my guard down.
He leans down and whispers in my ear, “Be a good girl, and go to work while I get you something to eat.”
Good girl.
The words somehow roll from my ear directly to my core. Heat punches low in my belly so fast, I grip the wall.
It takes me a moment to recover. “Okay, Stone, make yourself useful,” I grumble.
And for the second time today, he laughs.
I lean against the wall, grinning. I catch myself and straighten my expression.
Four more weeks, and I can relax.
Either I’ll become a partner, and Liam leaves. Or I won’t get the twenty-percent, and he’ll stay.
I’m not sure which one is a win anymore.