other side of my large kitchen island and it slides along the marble, falling off the edge.
I resisted the urge to reach out to her later on Sunday when I got no response to my text. Maybe she was pissed that I left without waking her, but if I did message her again, I’d just look like a pussy and she’d think she had me by the balls. But now it’s Tuesday morning and the need to see her feels like a burning sensation in my chest that’s only getting worse as the days pass.
The worst part is that I’m pretty sure my need to see her has nothing to do with what my father wants from her and one hundred percent to do with what I want.
“Fuck it.” I’ve never shied away from shit that scares me and I’m not gonna start now. I type out a text inviting her to meet me for lunch and pocket my phone.
Standing from the chair, I straighten out my tie.
Normally I’d be reading the paper and having my coffee down in the Titans’ Den, but I’ve been avoiding it since the weekend. I’m sure all those jackasses have heard about how Isla spent the night here on Saturday, and I don’t feel like hearing their bullshit.
Langley pulls away from Titans’ Tower when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I slide it out to find a response from Isla, but it’s not the one I want.
Isla: Sorry, we’re working straight through. Ford has a bunch of meetings and functions to attend today. Maybe later in the week if our schedule doesn’t fill in?
Fucking Ford. He gets to spend all day with her.
Me: Would dinner work better?
Isla: It’s going to sound like I’m avoiding you, but I swear I’m not. It’s just that I already have plans for a late dinner with Everly.
Any other time, I’d tell her to enjoy and move on, but I know it’s not that easy with Everly.
Me: If you didn’t enjoy your orgasm on Saturday night, you can just say so.
Isla: OMG! I can’t believe you went there.
Me: It’s all I’ve thought of for the past two days.
Isla: Same.
Me: Why don’t you tell me when you are free and I’ll see what I can do to clear my own schedule?
Isla: I have Friday night free. Ford cleared his calendar for it. Apparently, he takes his mom out to dinner once a month.
Me: Yeah, I know all about the mama’s boy’s monthly dinners.
Isla: It’s sweet.
Of course she thinks so. She wouldn’t if she knew the real reason Ford makes sure to check in with her every month.
Me: Yeah, he’s a real sweetheart. *eyeroll* I’m claiming your Friday night, then. Do not make other plans.
Isla: Someone’s bossy.
She has no idea. Not yet.
Me: Enjoy your day.
Isla: You too.
Langley pulls up in front of the Stone Energy building and I make my way inside and up to my office.
“Morning, Roslin,” I say as I pass my assistant’s desk.
“Morning, sir.”
“Anything I need to know?” I ask, bypassing her desk and going straight into my office so I can hang my jacket up.
She follows me in. “I placed a few contracts on your desk, and Public Relations emailed you over a preliminary statement to look over in response to the bad press the energy sector has been receiving.”
“I’ll look at that first. I’m sure I’ll have to rewrite the thing myself.” I slip behind my desk and turn my computer on. “Anything else?”
She doesn’t answer immediately, so I turn my attention from my screen to her. She’s wringing her hands in front of her like she doesn’t want to say what it is she’s about to tell me.
“Your father called as soon as I got to my desk this morning. He said he’s coming down to speak with you at eleven a.m. and not to”—she puts the next part in air quotes—“pretend like you have better things to do.”
My hands clench into fists on the desk. “That’s fine. Thanks, Roslin.”
She nods and walks back to her desk, closing my door behind her.
Apparently, my reprieve from Richard Stone has come to an end. It’s unfortunate—I was starting to forget the real reason I began spending time with Isla again.
It’s not quite eleven when my father barges in through my closed door without letting Roslin buzz through. No surprise. Nothing is more important than Richard Stone, at least to himself.
I look up from the contract I’m reviewing and set the papers on my desk.
“To what do I