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“Feeding my mom untainted food is not unnecessary!”
“Assuming that all the food in the estate is compromised is idiotic.”
“And assuming that all your employees are as virtuous as your sex life has been for the last decade is naïve.”
“Do not speak to me about people I’ve known longer than you’ve been able to hold down a steady job.” He takes a firm step forward. “And do not tell me how to handle my household.”
“How about you don’t speak to me. At. All.” The definitiveness of my statement receives an undeniable rumble that I have no problem ignoring as I lock eyes with Hamilton. “I am going to get my mom groceries – since I know I can trust me.” Another grunt of vexation is easily disregarded. “Please, have Park get in contact with me about the security measures he plans to put in place to insure her protection until the suspect is caught.” One last glare is given to the man I’m having second thoughts about dating. “And they will be caught, Mr. Wilcox, whether you believe they exist or not.”
Chapter 19
Wes
I violently hit the delete button three times on the note I was making. “I don’t care what Evie thinks.”
“Pham thinks it would be a good idea too,” J.T. adds without hesitation.
This time I look up from my laptop to meet his stare.
“Both are concerned with these media bait stories regarding your ‘unsafe working conditions’ that have steadily been cycling through the tabs.” His hands casually slide into his small checked print indigo suit pants prior to him leaning against the back of my upstairs office couch. “They’re worried about the backlash upsetting the other shareholders.”
“They’ll be fine.”
“And they’re worried how it’ll effect the Morgan Brand merger.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“And they’re also worried you may have a leak.”
There’s no stopping me from gritting my teeth, growling, and glaring at the man across from me.
First an assault on my employee – that’s practically fucking family – and now, I have someone selling inside information to the press?
Is this really happening?
Why?
Why me?
Why now?
Why is it when everything finally seemed to be full steam ahead, perfect page ending just a couple swipes away, some drunk writer came in and wrecked the entire plot in one panel?
“Enough, Weston,” Clark unexpectedly chastises upon his plate carrying entry. “You are a man, not a monster.”
“Debatable according to Bryn,” my best friend murmurs at a lower volume.
It’s impossible to keep jealousy out of my voice. “You’ve talked to her?”
“Texted mostly.” His head bounces back and forth. “You know…when she can remember where she’s left her phone.”
Of course, she’s not ignoring him.
He’s always on her side.
They’re always on each other’s side.
Conspiring.
