by Harloe Rae
Fiona Winters—Mother Dearest—is straddling her fifties like the good trophy wife she was groomed to be. Since my father’s passing, she’s been using the mourning widower status to her advantage. Finding comfort in her hired help was more natural than a trip to the plastic surgeon. Last month was the pool boy, but I believe she’s recently taken an interest in her tennis instructor. Not that I blame her. She was shackled to my father—thirty years her senior—at the ripe age of twenty-five. I should probably call her soon. But checking in on Mom of the Year can wait.
Jordan swivels toward Brance, the movement effective in dragging me away from my mental detour. “This doesn’t involve you, Stone.”
He couldn’t look more bored if I paid him. “The fuck it doesn’t. You called a mandatory happy hour.”
“Sure did, and I appreciate your participation. This guy,” he hitches a thumb at me, “needs a lesson in taking a load off.”
“I don’t need shit from either of you,” I retort.
Jordan rolls his eyes. “Just pretend to enjoy our company until the whiskey kicks in.”
I sip from my glass, but not because he told me to. “I’m not sure why I let you talk me into this.”
“Because you’re lonely,” he provides.
“That’s not a word in my vocabulary.”
“Don’t be such a surly bastard. You need to escape your gloomy cave every now and then.”
“You’re beginning to sound more scratched than a broken record.” Real mature, I know. This little outing is doing wonders for improving my mood.
Brance mutters something under his breath that makes Jordan chuckle. “I’m well aware it sounds familiar.” Then his gaze returns to me. “What did I tell you?”
“I see no resemblance,” I grumble. Other than his pressed suit, there are no traits I want to have in common with him.
Brance is staring at me with such blatant scrutiny that I almost feel violated. Invasively. “What’s got your panties in a knot?”
A comment of that dickish variety would usually roll off my back with a humorless chuckle. Not today, after Vannah fucking Simons had her way with me. And there I go again, picking at the festering wound until it oozes.
It’s been nearly a decade since I’ve allowed a woman to have such a visceral hold on me. Not that Vannah has the strength to expand on this minor slip. I won’t allow my mind to stray to such unsavory topics after deciding how to proceed. Compartmentalizing is a skill I’m fluent in. I’ll bury this incident with the other useless crap that manages to cling a little too long. There’s much to resent on the surface where flaws can be exposed and used against me. I wouldn’t waste a penny betting against the odds that Vannah plans to do precisely as predicted with her newfound information.
Seeing the she-devil again can be easily avoided. All it takes is a simple phone call, or severing contact with her firm through an email. But I refuse to run scared. She can’t chase me off with the mention of a haunting memory. Fuck her for trying, whether she meant to or not.
In any case, Brance doesn’t know me from Adam. Who’s he to judge my sour attitude? I shift on my stool, not bothering to mask a sneer. “Not sure what you mean.”
He’s ready and waiting for my rebuttal, of course. “You can’t bullshit a lawyer, especially one who specializes in divorce.”
“She’s not worth mentioning. Just a thorn in my side.” For the love of anything holy, I need to move the fuck on.
“A woman?” His chuckle is pitch black, even to my standards. “You’re fucked, man.”
Another mouthful of whiskey goes down the hatch. I return my glass onto the bar with a smooth motion that contradicts the fury bubbling inside me. “I have it all under control.”
Even with Jordan smashed between us, his scoff slaps me in the face. “I guarantee you don’t.”
“What the hell do you know of it?”
He points at himself. “You’re looking at a man who survived the experience.”
“Do you want a medal?”
The first sign of emotion ticks at his lips. “Give it to my wife. She’s the real winner.”
Jordan releases a hoot. “I’m gonna tell her you said that.”
Brance nods at his friend. “Please do. Her forms of punishment are more like my rewards.”
Bile churns in my gut, the bitter taste rising up my throat. I gag while attempting to swallow the putrid image he paints. “I didn’t order rancid cheese with my booze. Keep the sweet sentiments to yourself.”
Jordan nudges me with a laugh. “You have no idea, Winters.”
I scrub over my mouth, making sure there are no actual traces of vomit. “That was more than enough to turn me celibate.”
His shaking head denies my claims. “Nah, you’ve got it all wrong. Getting hitched is a blessing. Finding your optimal match makes you a better man.”
“That’s your opinion, love doctor. Leave my name out of it.”
“Fucking pussy,” Brance spits.
“I don’t need to hear about your dinner plans, but thanks for sharing.”
That earns me a smirk. “Cocky little shit, huh? I hope that woman trains you to behave better in public.”
I pin him with a glare of my own. “And how’s that working out for you? That collar around your neck looks uncomfortable.”
He tugs at his tie, entirely for my benefit. “It’s better than going off the deep-end from your own doing.”
“Barking up the wrong tree, man. Relying on others can be a real letdown. My condolences on your missing balls, though.”
His palm smacks the glossy counter with a thwack. “You better fix that chip on your shoulder before someone discovers the crack.”
“Oh, yeah?” I turn on my seat and posture like a douchebag dude-bro who just scored in beer pong. “How do you recommend we settle this? You look like the type to engage in an arm-wrestling match. Bet I can take you.”
In his defense, Brance barely blinks at my stupid boasting. I’ll admit, this isn’t my finest moment. “A bit childish for my taste. I typically save those games for my nine-year-old. There’s probably a college bar down the street where you can find a fuckboy to slap around, though.”
Damn, this guy is sharp. No wonder he made partner at his firm before hitting thirty. His shark mentality isn’t solely reserved for the courtroom. I could almost applaud his tenacity if he wasn’t aiming those ruthless barbs at me.
I raise my drink in a mock salute. “Nice burn, but too cheap for my palate.”
“I’m not your enemy, Winters. That’s all on you.”
“More words from the wise.”
If I didn’t know better, I might assume the furrow in his brow is from disappointment. “You’d be smart to listen. It’ll save you from making costly mistakes.”
“I’d say thanks, but lying at a professional level is your job. You get paid pretty handsomely for that, right? I have no interest in following your footsteps.”
“You couldn’t fill them.” His gaze bores into mine, willing me to back down.
I’m the least likely candidate to submit. “Whatever makes you feel better, pops. I’ll just let the chips fall as they will.”
The ferocity in his glare puts Vannah’s to shame. “That sounds an awful lot like fate.”
Or a poker match. Whatever. “Then peer into your crystal ball and tell me how to end this worthless conversation.”
“Fuck you too.” Brance tears his glare off me to focus straight ahead, ignoring me with a force I don’t plan to reckon with. “Good luck beating yourself up until clarity strikes.”
“All right, kids. Let’s reel it in. We’re supposed to be having fun.” Jordan sliding in as mediator has less impact than Brance’s transparent jabs to best me.
“Is this not how male bonding works?” I jut my chin while leaning against the bar.
He teeters a palm in a seesaw gesture. “Not quite so hostile.”
As if I’m capable of anything else. Jordan should expect no les
s from me when faced with a rival ready to bear arms. Why I remain plastered to this stool is anyone’s guess. Perhaps the whiskey is finally making a dent in my steely tolerance. But no, my vision isn’t swimming and I’m able to process the stupidity of this exchange without battling a fog. Dammit. This is a rare event that I curse my iron stomach. Maybe he’s right, but that doesn’t change the facts.
Piss and vinegar flow through my veins on the regular. Thanks to a certain redhead, that ire happens to be spiking to astronomical levels. This pointless bickering is pouring gasoline on the flames. Rather than losing my temper on the man determined to belittle me, I resign myself to stew in silence.
Directing my frustration to Vannah is a reflex I don’t bother fighting. She has no concept of my blistering contempt for her. Fuck remaining civil. We’ve been engaging in playful banter until this point. With that offhanded comment she flung at me earlier, a battle has been launched. It will be brutal and bloody with only one of us coming out victorious.
Now this, I’m willing to wager millions on. Vannah Simons will curse the moment she decided to take me on. Her recent attack might have hit the intended target, but it was a lucky shot. I’m done going easy on her. She won’t land another hit without feeling the backlash.
With that in mind, I drain the whiskey in my glass and bid my so-called company a silent farewell. I have a hellion to capture.
The navigation system squawks from my dashboard as I steer into the abandoned parking lot. At least three warehouses in this area of north Minneapolis lay vacant. It’s the prime section to begin our search for Landon’s precious expansion. Multiple options in a single, convenient location. It’s a win in my book, and I’m looking to rack up as many of those as I can in this case.
I pull in near the front office door and cut the engine. A blinding glare off my windshield reminds me to grab a pair of sunglasses as I mentally prepare for battle. When I step out, a low whistle escapes me from the barren sight. Each direction shows the same—empty structures with zero activity across the commercial landscape. Talk about desolate. Even the air smells void of energy. Maybe he’ll get a discount—buy two, get one free.
After the way we parted yesterday, I have an added bounce in my stilettos. I’ll admit to being a bit stunned at receiving an email from Landon last night. He wanted to visit several properties from the list I’d sent him, at my earliest convenience. Shock dropped my jaw while I read his message. I’d almost convinced myself that he planned to get me fired for stabbing at an obvious sore spot yesterday. It wouldn’t have surprised me to receive a call from Vince demanding my resignation. But I’m not complaining about remaining gainfully employed.
A glance to my left reveals the man himself, in all his tailored-suit glory. Sunlight glints along Landon’s hair, making the strands appear more golden. The morning rays bathe him without judgment as if he’s ethereal. I’m well aware of what’s hiding beneath that surface beauty, though. That doesn’t stop me from pasting a smile on my face.
In return, he shoots me with his signature scowl.
Ah, there’s the asshole I’ve learned to deflect shit from. Damn him for looking more delicious than fresh-from-the-oven cinnamon rolls.
I wave at him for professionalism’s sake—and for the ingrained desperation for a promotion. That doesn’t mean I can’t needle him a little. “Good morning, Lannie.”
“It certainly is, Savannah. Doesn’t this gorgeous weather just scream success?” His voice is flat as ever, but the greeting is horrifically too cheery for him.
Suspicion rises before I can snap my fingers. “Um, what?”
Landon stretches his arms out. “Just soak in all that vitamin D, sugar. It’ll do wonders for your mood.”
I nearly gouge my heel on a dip in the pavement as his words register. “Did you spike your coffee this morning?”
“Alcohol before noon isn’t my style. No offense, of course. Some people need that boost to get going.”
I slant my lips in a crooked grin. “Are you suggesting I fall into that category?”
His broad shoulders lift in a lazy shrug. “No judgment from me.”
“Yeah, right.” I narrow my eyes. “I wouldn’t be drunk on the clock, thank you very much.”
“But I wouldn’t blame you. This type of work must be very dull.”
“Actually, I chose this profession on purpose,” I clarify. “It’s fun for me to show off buildings, imagining the fresh potential and changes that a new owner could bring.”
“Your definition of fun doesn’t align with mine.” Landon’s shrewd gaze skewers me from his upturned nose. Pompous jerk.
A laugh trips off my tongue. “Oh, phew. You almost had me concerned.”
“Meaning?”
“For a minute there, I thought you were turning over a new leaf. Your arrogance must’ve been sleeping in. I’m glad it was a temporary glitch.” I wipe my brow for emphasis.
His expression sobers, erasing all traces of tension. “My apologies. It isn’t my intention to cause you distress.”
The air in my lungs vacates with a whoosh. I’m positive my gaping resembles a fish out of water. “Now you’re officially freaking me out.”
“How so?”
I whip a hand at him, gesturing up and down in an erratic fashion. “This whole calm and collected act. It’s unexpected.”
“I pride myself on being unpredictable.” Landon smooths a palm along his already straight tie.
His carefree attitude is making me hesitate longer than I prefer. My natural response to this man favors heavily on snarky comebacks and defensive quips. It’s difficult to be rude when he’s acting relatively polite. “Why are you being so… normal?”
The smile lifting his usually stern features effectively steals my breath. Again. What the actual fuck is he trying to pull off here? “As opposed to what, sugar?”
“Completely intolerable.” I’m becoming more convinced that an alien has taken over his body. Perhaps that’s not a terrible thing.
He’s staring straight through me with flat disregard. The grin is strictly surface level. Just when I thought I was making a dent in his steely exterior, he slams up the walls tenfold. “Would you prefer I resume with the insults? I wasn’t aware you were a glutton for being treated poorly.”
“I’m not,” I state at a slow pace while trying to dissect his scheme. “But you don’t really care either way.”
“That’s correct. Your self-esteem and integrity hold little interest for me. That doesn’t mean I should disrespect you. Habits are tough to break, and it was just too easy arguing with you.” His flippant tone dismisses my concern with a cutting edge.
I don’t take my focus off him, watching for signs of deception. “I figured you’d be pissed at me.”
Landon chuckles, but the dry sound lacks any warmth. “For what? Saying a woman broke my heart? Please, Savannah. That’s absurd. I overreacted, but I can assure you it won’t happen again.”
Who is this imposter, and what did he do with Landon? “You lashed out for a reason.”
He rocks on the heels of his loafers. “Even I have bad mornings, believe it or not. I’m allowed to be off-kilter now and then.”
His obvious brushoff is a lame attempt to dissuade me from prodding further. I’m not buying whatever cheap knockoff he’s selling. This entire exchange so far isn’t making any sense, but I haven’t interacted with him enough to call bullshit on his strange behavior. The subject can be dropped until I have a better grip on his abrupt shift in attitude. Fighting about it when he’s clearly withdrawn will defeat the purpose. I’ll save that kernel in my pocket until a later date.
While tilting my head, I squint at him from behind the protection of my oversized shades. “I’ll take the hint. You don’t want to discuss yesterday for the sake of keeping our… peace.”
“You’re too kind.” His voice suggests he’d rather throttle me. He glances from left to right, inspecting the noticeable absence of traffic in general. “I w
asn’t aware we were bargain shopping.”
“It happens sometimes. Might work for the best if you’re still looking to purchase multiple warehouses.”
“True as that might be, I’m not interested in buying the scraps no one else wants.” He treats himself to another superficial glimpse, clearly assuming the worst even before we’ve assessed the entire package.
Cue the internal eye roll. Heaven forbid the great Landon Winters has to trudge through the trenches with us common folk. I don’t disguise the rigid clench in my jaw. This was his idea to begin with.
“You picked these listings from the dozens I sent over.” The reminder isn’t needed, but his snap judgment grates on my nerves.
“I wasn’t aware they were located in a ghost town.” Call me paranoid, but his act of boredom smells fishier than a rotting trout.
A huff sends stray hairs flying off my forehead. “Dramatic much?”
“Ah, there she is. I was starting to wonder if your smart mouth took a vacation.” That sounds an awful lot like what I accused him of when we first arrived. He’s trying to goad a reaction out of me, but I won’t give him the privilege.
“Nope, I’m just waiting for the opportunity to strike.”
He raises his brows, the dark blond slashes lifting in expectation. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not standing here.”
“Not everything is about you, egomaniac.”
Landon checks his phone, tapping at the screen for a few moments. “We can agree to disagree for the sake of our schedule.”
And the ruthless CEO finally makes his appearance.
“Right, of course. We should stick to the program.” Not sure who I’m trying to convince.
“By all means.” He nods for me to take the lead.
“I’m under the impression that the numerous availabilities on these neighboring blocks are due to one company going belly up. But don’t take my word for it,” I tack on at the end.
“I wouldn’t dare, I can assure you.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t trust you either.”
“You shouldn’t.” The menacing glint in his eyes makes me shiver despite the rising heat as day breaks.