Something Like Hate - Harloe Rae Page 0,40

stomach is becoming an automatic reflex where he’s involved.

I’d send him straight to voicemail, but that’s a lesson that doesn’t need repeating. The man is relentless and refuses to be silenced. It’s in my best interest to answer and avoid further confrontation.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” I shoot an apologetic look to my companions before swiping to accept. “Hello, Lannie.”

“I need you in a meeting.” He’s nothing if not efficient.

“All right, when?”

“Thirty minutes.”

I cough to cover my choke, disbelief squeezing tight to my windpipe. “Excuse me?”

“Half an hour, Savannah. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Heaven forbid.

“More notice would be great. Also, it’s Saturday.”

“Your point?”

That he’s a tyrant. “I can’t fit that in my schedule today.”

“You can, and will.” His authoritative tone threatens to carve at my sensitive spots.

If I agree to this, what happens next? He’s already impossible to please. I flop back into my chair with a petulant huff. “Or what?”

“Do you actually want to hear the answer?”

I tamp down a scream from rushing to the surface. Our first contract proposal hasn’t been drawn up yet and he’s already trying to control me. Again. “You’re not even in town.”

“Nice try, but I actually flew in this morning. You should check your emails.”

Repeating that it’s the weekend seems like a lost cause. I’m certain his plan is to drive me insane. “I’ll be sure to do that shortly.”

“You’re at my beck and call, remember?”

I don’t like the sound of that. “That’s not what I agreed to.”

“Not sure you have a choice, sugar.”

I grind my molars until a dull throb spreads. “There’s always an alternative.”

His pause swells with prickling malice, aiming to strike at the optimal moment. “I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

Biting my tongue is beginning to weigh on me. “Maybe you should.”

“Do you actually mean that?”

A glance to my right shows Clea in all her grinning glory. Her glee is misplaced, and my pride is feeling the brunt. On the other side, my mother is creasing her brow. She’s willing to risk more wrinkles worrying over me. Disappointing her isn’t an option. Lead pumps in my veins as I steel myself for what lies ahead.

“If only it were that simple.” Defeat clouds my tone, the words tasting sour. I’m already in the thick of it. There’s no stopping now.

“Just as I thought.” Victory clangs in his voice. “The clock is ticking. You better get moving, Savannah.”

“The nail polish isn’t dry on my toes. I’m pretty sure she hasn’t started the second coat.”

“I don’t care.” Of course not. Why would he?

I grasp onto my last shred of hope. “It’s not possible for me to get wherever you are in that amount of time. I didn’t drive here.”

“I’ll send a car. Text me your location.” Then he hangs up.

I stare at the phone, my mouth poised open with a retort that goes unsaid.

“Well, that sounded pleasant.” Sarcasm drips from Clea’s voice.

“You have to leave?” The frown marring my mom’s face chips at my resolve to hide Landon’s true self.

“Unfortunately,” I mutter. “I guess there’s some super important meeting that requires my attendance.”

I have the sudden urge to run in the opposite direction. Landon is proving to be the impenetrable force I first pegged him for.

“We understand, sweetie. Work is important.” She sympathizes, of course. After being married to my father for over thirty years, hearing this excuse is second nature.

The knot in my chest tightens, clenching in a sharp ache. I’m a motivated girl on a mission to expose this guy for who he really is. “It’s totally fine. I have this situation under control.”

Their matching expressions are prepared to call bullshit, and I might agree with them.

I’m about to read over an initial quality report with the Sunny Skies owners when Vannah bursts through the door. A glance at my watch reveals that she’s three minutes early. Even fighting the odds I stacked against her, she arrives as prompt as ever. I might give her credit for that if this goes well.

Her stride stumbles to a halt when she notices us sitting around the small conference table. A blush that matches her hair races up her slender neck. These fair-skinned beauties can never hide their embarrassment. She tries to shake off her shock with a wobbly grin, tucking some stray strands behind a red-tipped ear. “I apologize for just barging in.”

“Nonsense.” I pat the chair beside me. “We’ve been waiting on you.”

Vannah narrows her eyes on me for an instant so brief the others most likely miss it. There’s little

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