After one feverish night with Tyler Evans, Rory is never supposed to see the man draped in enigmas and devilish charms again.
Six months later, she's deep into a summer fling with Chace. As their fling becomes a committed relationship, she's adamant...
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Being summoned by my father can only mean one of two things. We're either discussing business opportunities or I'm in for a lecture. Today, it'll be the latter.
I've dried myself off and discarded the towel before entering his office. Not a single drop of water can touch the ever-glossed strawberry oak floorboards. Dropping anything has always equated to punishment.After all, a businessman never makes a mess.It's been instilled in my brain to a point that I don't drop anything anywhere. Not even if my wrists were slit with blood pouring down my arms.
Dad fixes two glasses of bourbon at his desk and offers one to me in my stride across the room. I take it with a nod and find my seat on the olive-cream sofa a few feet back. He leans on the front of his desk facing me and folds his arms. Weathered eyes search mine as he presses his glass to his lips for a modest sip. I mirror him, appreciating the lavish burn as it slides down my throat while studying him in this soulless office.
Silence.
One of his many tactics of intimidation. It's one he's taught me since I was young enough to string articulate sentences together. 'It makes your party uncomfortable—anxious even. You can control an entire room with your silence alone.' It'd also be a mistake to break the silence or ask why I've been summoned. By his law, it's a sign of weakness, forfeiting, to speak first.
Once his glass is empty, he sets it on his desk and exhales in a way that speaks volumes. I finish my drink and rest it on the glass coffee table before my knees. "Is this some sort of joke," he asks with false curiosity, "that you and Tyler have going on?"
"No, sir." Level and without emotion. Anything more is a sign of weakness.
He sweeps his hand across the air and feigns a scowl. "Did Tyler put you up to something? Did you lose a bet?"
"No, sir."
"Then please, help me understand why that girl is sitting out there claiming to be your girlfriend." He pushes himself off the desk with folded arms and gaits toward me. Another tactic of exhibiting power. Tower above your party, forcing them to raise their gaze. "Did Tyler slip you some of his narcotics? Are you calling out for help? That girl out there is someone I would expect him to date. Not you. You're better than that."
Carefully, I clasp my hands together and shift forward. "Rory is an amazing girl. If you get to know her-"
"You don't like girls like Rory—which is a boy's name, might I mention. You like good girls. Respectable women. Not a teen who dresses like a hooker." Veins bulge from his throat with each accusation. "A girl who wants to work in porn for a living. Are you kidding me, Chace?"
My head spins, but I keep oxygen sweeping through my lips in calm drags and fold my hands atop my knees. "If you just give her a chance-"
