This again. Am I really such an ogre? I mean, I know I am, it’s part of a carefully cultivated image, but it’s also how I get things done and how I’ve made a name for myself, which now creates hundreds of jobs for others. But still. Have I become immune to myself?
“Yes,” he says finally.
“Did you have the same?” I hold up what’s left of the cake in my hand.
“No.” His eyes shift away again. “There was a special today.”
I lift a brow.
He smirks. “It’s called, ‘Guy Chapman is a butt-sniffing douche double chocolate with nougat’.”
I press my lips together. “Really. That’s quite a mouthful.”
His brows lift at my response and I work to keep my expression blank.
His smirk rolls into an all-out grin. “She used a dark chocolate crème anglaise. The cake was good, but the nougat filling, it was inspired. You have to admit it’s kind of funny.”
“Right. Funny.” I will not smile.
When I don’t say anything further, Carson steps away, moving back toward his desk.
“Carson,” I bark.
He steps back to the threshold, waiting for me to continue.
“Do you think I’m mean?”
A few beats of silence pass while he stares at me, wide eyed. “Are you for real?”
My teeth clench. “I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t.”
He shifts from one foot to another. “Well, it’s really kind of subjective.”
I make a derisive sound. “You never quibble over semantics. Tell me straight.”
“You know people are scared of you.”
That’s not an answer. “Do you think I use my influence for evil instead of good?”
“No. I think you’re dedicated to success and you know how many people rely on you. You might be demanding, but you know you have to be strong enough for everyone and you demand no more than you demonstrate.”
For some reason, his words don’t make me feel any better. Being an unemotional prick doesn’t make me strong. Scarlett laid herself bare right in front of me, showing me all her weakest spots. But that didn’t make her fragile or pathetic. Showing her vulnerable underside to me, her current enemy, was probably the bravest thing I’ve ever witnessed. I’ve always lived under a hard and fast rule of flaunting only competence, but showing weakness takes real courage. Real strength.
I consider Carson, his perfect suit and manicured moustache. “You’ve never been scared of me. Not even during your first interview.”
One shoulder lifts in a half shrug. “My dad is six foot five, a two-hundred and fifty-pound former collegiate linebacker and he loves Jesus. I had to have a conversation with him about how much I enjoy penis. Nothing scares me after that.”
I nod.
I don’t want to do it, not really, but I need that slice of real estate in order to continue to pay my staff, Carson included. It’s unfortunate Scarlett is going to get caught in the crossfire but it’s inevitable. There is more on the line than she realizes and there are things out of my control. Like Oliver.
“Get Officer Jackson on the phone.” Jerome is a friend from high school he owes me a favor because I catered his niece’s sweet sixteen last year.
Carson regards me, his expression carefully blank. “Are you sure?”
“There aren’t any other choices.”
He disappears from the doorway and a few seconds later, he’s on the phone.
I take another bite of the Rhett Velvet and can’t help but wonder what the ‘Guy Chapman is a butt-sniffing douche double chocolate with nougat’ cupcake tastes like. I almost wish I could try one.
“Funny,” I murmur. “Clever marketing, too.” Especially from my employees, apparently.
“I’ve got Officer Jackson,” Carson calls.
I lean back in my chair and pick up the phone. Scarlett said she doesn’t have a choice. Well, neither do I. Not really.
We’re on the couch watching Mr. Bean, one of Emma’s favorite shows, when my phone rings.
“Jerome,” I answer. “Tell me something good.”
Emma reaches over and pokes me in the mouth. I swipe her hand away and she grins at me then points at the TV.
Mr. Bean is in a karate class, shoving the teacher over and rolling him in a mat.
Jerome speaks in my ear. “Man, you didn’t tell me what a piece Scarlett was. You could warn a brother.”
“A piece?”
Emma reaches for my face again and I stand to avoid her. Ava sits on my other side and she swats at my thigh. “You’re ruining the show, this is Emma’s favorite part.”
I sneak off into the next room to have the conversation in relative peace.
Jerome continues. “She is something else. She told me she