Chapter ten
The Level Boardroom
Connor
As I stand looking out over the city, I check my watch again.
Half past seven. Russell was meant to collect Samantha at six o’clock then drive straight here.
It should have taken thirty minutes at most.
My bastard brother has once again changed the plan and is doing his own fucking thing.
Namely, yanking my chain. His jibes and taunts have become more frequent in recent weeks, both in and out of the office.
It’s becoming harder to keep my mouth closed.
“Where the hell are they?” I mutter, starting to pace again.
Harrison walks up behind me and places his hand on my shoulder.
I stop then turn to face him. Violet, who has been sitting at the table eating raisins by the handful, stands and waddles out of the room, but not before kissing her future husband's cheek.
Raisins have been her third-trimester craving; every time I’ve seen her, she’s had a bag in her hand.
“They’ll be here,” Harrison assures me, his voice calm. “Perhaps they’ve been caught up in traffic.” He passes me the glass of whiskey in his hand. “Have a drink. What’s making you so prickly?”
“He likes her,” I state, the worry that’s been eating away at me surfacing.
Russell has always been an open book in my eyes; I can tell by his behavior how he feels about someone.
To most people, he’s a pain in the ass. My brother likes to upset those around him before they have the chance to do the same to him.
But with Samantha, although he’s rude and obnoxious, there’s a softness in his eyes that I’ve only seen with family.
And one thing I know about my brother is when he decides he wants something, nothing stands in his way.
I can only hope that his sights aren’t set firmly on what’s mine.
“Russell always wants what he can’t have. How many women have you two played this game over?”
My friend eyes me knowingly; he’s seen this dozens of times before with Russell and I competing for the same girl, even if one of us is already dating her.
“Are you and Sam doing well? From what Violet says, she’s into you.”
“My sister and her big mouth discussing my private life.” He laughs but nods in agreement. “This is different. I don’t want this to be a competition. I couldn’t bear to lose her.”
Harrison cocks his head to the side, his shrewd eyes running over my face.
He doesn’t speak, just leaves empty air for my words.
It’s a mannerism he has perfected both in and out of the courtroom: the ability to make someone uncomfortable enough to tell him what’s on their mind.
“I like this girl. What we have feels…” The emptiness opens up again, and my heart fills with fear at the thought of losing her.
“Feels what?” he prompts.
“Real.” We both stand staring at each other, and he smiles kindly. “She’s the first woman I’ve been with who isn’t interested in my credit card. There are no expectations from her of fancy dinners or expensive gifts. I think she likes me for, well, me.”
“So, what are you worried about? It sounds like the perfect basis for a relationship.”
I shrug, not knowing what to say. The thought of saying my biggest insecurities out loud is unpleasant.
Unnerved, I walk back over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over London.
It's dark now, so the lights of the city spread out across the blackness.
Cars still weave through the streets; it’s silent in our fortress up here, but I know outside the city is bustling.
“I think she likes him too,” I admit, not looking at my friend. “Though I don’t think she knows it.” He wanders over to stand beside me, and we both stare out into the dark.
“Are you psychic?” He asks with mild sarcasm.
“No, just a realist.” Harrison glances at me, concern clear on his features. “You and I both know that it’s obvious when two people like each other. And I see how she responds to him when he’s being an ass. She glows.”
“Why would you ask him to collect her from work then, if you’re concerned about an attraction between them?”
I take another sip of my drink, knowing my answer will probably make no sense to my friend. Russell is a non-negotiable part of my life. My big brother has looked out for me since day one. He’s a necessary thorn in my side.
“Because he’s my brother. I trust him with my life. He’s the first man I would call in any situation, good or bad. I needed help, so I asked him.” Harrison nods fractionally, but his face tells me he doesn’t agree. “And if there is something between them, am I not better knowing now than in a year?”
Just then, the sound of laughter bursts through the door, and we both turn to find Russell and Samantha walking into the room.
Her face is lit up as he tells her what I assume is a joke.
She looks stunning, relaxed, and at ease.
But what’s more disconcerting is Russell; there’s a natural happiness there I haven’t seen in years, not since we were kids. Samantha reaches out and slaps his arm.
“You are such an arsehole,” she teases.
“Guilty as charged,” he agrees, then bows dramatically. My jealousy spikes, and I feel the fury mixed with insecurity build in my chest to a bursting point. My fists clench at my sides. It’s taking all my composure not to storm across the room and punch my brother in the face.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Harrison says under his breath, then walks toward the door.
“Where are you going, Waite?” Russell shouts. “This is a celebration!”
“I’ll go get your sister,” he tells him without as much as a glance in his direction, then exits through the doorway the happy couple just appeared from.
Samantha meets my gaze, and her stunning smile widens. It does nothing to calm me. I only become more furious that time with him has made her this happy. She looks fucking radiant.
“Where the fuck have you been?” I snap at Russell, and his cheerfulness evaporates.
“Collecting your girlfriend from her work like you asked me to.”
“And it took you almost two hours to get here. Where have you been?” He pauses, and his expression tells me I’m not going to like the next words out of his mouth.
“A hotel,” he says with a smirk. “Trouble and I hired one of those rooms by the hour.” Samantha freezes at his words, paling as he wraps an arm around her. “I was the best you ever had, wasn’t I?”
His eyebrows raise, silently goading a reaction. I notice once again he’s using Trouble as an endearment toward her. Russell only names people he likes, and it’s clear he’s taken more than a liking to my girl.
“Russell, did your mother never tell you lying is bad?” Samantha says once she seems to regain some composure. “We went to a bar for a drink.”
“You were meant to come straight back here.”
Russell shrugs, and Samantha steps out of his embrace.
She walks over to me, lifting her hand to my cheek.
She looks at me with concern—her fingertips graze my skin tenderly.
“I’m here now,” she says. “I’m sorry. We thought there was time.”
She rises on tiptoe and presses soft lips to mine.
“Let me make it up to you.” The sound of the door slamming within seconds once again signals Russell’s exit. We both turn to look, and he’s gone.
Samantha blinks up through dark lashes, her blue eyes sparkle under the light. She’s still dressed in her uniform with a heavy winter coat over the top. “I’m sorry,” she says again. “Russell said we weren’t supposed to be here until seven-thirty.”
“I’m sure he did,” I mutter.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Russell has always been difficult. We’ve talked about this before.”
I stop speaking, unsure about how much of my insecurities to divulge.
“He likes to make life challenging for others.”
She doesn’t say anything, but her body tenses under my touch.
She bites her lip as if trying to stop herself from talking.
“I got stuck at the office because he booked a meeting in my calendar. He knew I was planning to pick you up, and the jackass put a fly in the ointment.”
“Why would he do that?” she asks quietly. We look at each other for a beat, then her eyes drop away.
“He knew tonight was important, and as always, it all has to be about him.”
“I’m here now,” she says again. “And I’m here with you.”
“But for how long?”
Her face twists uneasily. We’ve skirted around the topic of what this is and where our relationship is going, but Samantha never wants to plan too far ahead.
She tells me that every time something good happens, it gets blown to pieces by life.
So, for now, she just wants to enjoy what we have and not put a label on it.
I like labels, and I like to know where I stand, but to have her I’m willing to wait. I just hope my waiting for her doesn’t ultimately mean I lose her to him.
***
Samantha
Connor’s eyes run over my face for what feels like the millionth time since I arrived minutes ago, as if in search of the truth. These past weeks with him have been some of the best of my life, and I hate to see him upset due to my actions.
“Listen, it was a misunderstanding,” I suggest, knowing full well it wasn’t.
“I’m going to go and freshen up.” I rise on tiptoe to kiss him.
He accepts my lips, but there isn’t the enthusiasm behind the act that normally exists.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” I whisper, closing my eyes and willing the tears behind my lids not to fall.
Connor is always so loving, but today there’s a wall between us, and deep down I know why.
I rush to his apartment, opening the door with the entry card he gave me last week. Once in the safety of his bedroom, I pull my phone out of my pocket and do something I haven’t done before. I text the unknown number in my contacts. The one I receive the odd complimentary texts from.
Did you do that deliberately?
What?
Delay me returning from work. Tell me that we didn’t need to be here until 7:30.
Yes.
Why?
Because I wanted to spend some time with you, Trouble. Watching you from afar isn’t always enough.
I stare at the answer on my screen. No excuses, no half-truths. I asked the question, and Russell answered me honestly. My phone beeps again, alerting me to a second message.
I enjoyed myself. And if you’re being honest, you did too.