Chapter 42
Angela
Garrett and I park at The Hut and race to the porch, shaking rain out of our hair before stepping through the door.
Jordan’s with Dad and Uncle Wyatt, standing outside the office.
His eyes narrow when he sees Garrett. I give him my best “fuck you very much” smile while Dad’s face morphs from pleasant to ready to murder someone when he sees me.
“You said you weren’t hurt.” He crosses the room in three long strides and cups my face, inspecting the cut over my eye. “And you’re soaked. Therese!” He turns, barking for our receptionist. “Call housekeeping for towels for Angel and Mr. Cooper. Blankets, too.”
Her startled face pokes out of the office. “Yes, Mr. Hutton,” she says before dashing off.
Dad turns to Garrett, and I know that glint in his eyes. The one that says he’s decided who to murder and it’s the idiot who was driving too fast in the rain.
“It looks worse than it is.” I wave a hand over the cut, flashing my father a look I hope he understands. A warning that things are about to get bumpy, but to buckle up and enjoy the ride because this time, I know what I’m doing.
Dad lifts a brow and shakes his head. “I’ll have to take your word on that,” he says, with a heavy undercurrent of what the hell is going on, Angela?
I meet my father’s eyes.
Trust me, says the tilt of my head, the arch of my brow.
He glowers, every bit the inscrutable Marine while Therese returns with an armload of towels and blankets, handing them over with a shocked expression.
“Remember that time when I was seventeen or eighteen?” I say to Dad, accepting a towel and dabbing at my face, my hair. “And you were having a hard time letting go? I wanted to hang out with friends, but you were doing your overprotective daddy thing…”
Dad nods, listening intently, as if a walk down memory lane is perfectly normal at this moment. I could hug him for understanding me so well.
Careful of my throbbing forehead, I dry my face. “And I sat you down and told you it was time to trust me. That I deserved more credit than you were giving me. Remember?”
“I think I remember the day you’re talking about.”
“Do you remember what I said? Right before I left?” I meet my father’s eyes and pray he’s catching everything I’m not saying.
“How could I forget?” Dad turns to Wyatt and Jordan, shaking his head and laughing lightly. “My seventeen-year-old daughter looked me in the eyes and said ‘Semper fi, Daddy,’ then walked out the door like the biggest badass that ever was.”
Semper fidelis. The motto of the Marine Corps. Always faithful.
“And things turned out okay, didn’t they?” I finish drying off and wrap a blanket around my shoulders while the men chuckle at the idea of seventeen-year-old me standing up to Lucas Hutton.
Trust me.
“They did.” Dad’s nod is almost imperceptible, but it’s there. He caught my drift. I’m sure everyone else did as well, given that subtlety isn’t my thing, but whatever.
“I think we should postpone the meeting one more day, don’t you?” Wyatt folds his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall. “Deals like this are too important to be made while half of us are wrapped in towels and bleeding.”
Jordan starts to speak, and I shoot Dad a warning look. “I’m fine,” I say with a smile, “and I’m sure Garrett is, too.”
“If Angela says she’s fine, then she’s fine. Let’s get this over with.” Dad walks into the office. Wyatt follows. I step through, giving Jordan another “you’re such a fucking dick” grin while gesturing for Garrett to step inside.
Jordan’s jaw drops. His eyes narrow. He turns to my dad, his face a mask of professional embarrassment.
“I am so sorry, Mr. Hutton. I can’t believe I’m in the position to have to tell you this,” he says, smooth as silk, “but Mr. Cooper is no longer working on this account. It’ll just be me in today’s meeting. ”
I close the door with Garrett firmly inside the office and fight back laughter as Jordan’s mask slips. He’s pissed and what I’m about to say will piss him off even more.
Good.
This is gonna be fun.