Ashton Scott

“You did not just say that to me!” I’m yelling now, every fibre of my being taut with outrage. He’s hitting every one of my insecurities I have over the way I conduct business, and I can’t hold back my hurt.

He’s also going after the one thing I have left of my grandmother—Willow Street—and I will not go down without a fight over this.

Raking his fingers through his hair, he huffs out, “We need to take a step back—”

“No! You need to answer my question. What’s the plan?”

The vein in his temple pulses, and I can tell he’s fighting not to lose his temper. “A multilevel centre with shopping and offices. There’s a lot of support for this, but I don’t need your building for it to go ahead.”

I shake my head. “Why can’t you understand that either way I don’t want this to happen? I don’t want you to come in and ruin what we have there. It’s one of the last parts of this city that remains untouched. You might call it progress, but I call it greedy.”

It’s his turn to flinch. However, before he has a chance to respond, I grab my shoes and phone, and add, “I don’t see the need for it.”

“Where are you going?” he asks as I move across the room to the door.

I don’t slow down. “Home.”

“Lorelei,” he says, his voice low and full of objection.

I stop and spin around to face him. Wild energy blazes from me as I throw back, “I need some space. And some time to think.”

“About what?”

“About us. I’m not sure I can do this anymore.”

He’s silent for a beat, his body rocklike and his face a wall of stone. “I’m not letting you go until we finish this discussion.”

I stare into those fierce eyes of his, returning the same level of intensity. “You can stand there and throw orders out all you like, Ashton, but this time I’m not paying any attention. If I don’t put some space between us, I’m not sure you’ll like the outcome of that discussion.”

He works his jaw, his eyes searching mine. “I’ll give you the day, Lorelei, and not a second longer. I don’t like leaving things unresolved.”

I force out a long breath. “I need longer than a day.”

That answer does not make him happy. “How long?”

“I don’t know.”

We stare at each other for a few painful moments, each recoiling from the wounds we’ve inflicted. This weekend has ripped us apart, and I’m not sure where we can go from here.

He drives me home, unhappily, and doesn’t force the point when I say no to him walking me in. When I’m safely behind closed doors in the sanctuary of my own home, I let the tears fall.

How did we mess this up so badly?

51

Ashton

“I’ve decided I don’t like Asshole Thursday any more than I like Asshole Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday,” Jessica says as she dumps a stack of files on my desk early Thursday morning. “And if, as Lorelei just informed me, we’re in for Asshole Friday too, I think I might just take tomorrow off work and leave you to live through it on your own.”

My head jerks up at the mention of Lorelei’s name. “You were talking to Lorelei?”

“Yes, I called her to follow up on setting a date for your next meeting regarding the resort development with Stan.”

“And?” Jesus, I’m wound so tight over the argument Lorelei and I had, and the fact we haven’t spoken since, that I’m more impatient than usual for Jessica to give me the information I want.

Her lips purse as I bark out my demand. “You know, maybe I should just go home now. This mood of yours is growing old, and frankly, you don’t pay me enough to put up with this kind of shit.”

Leaning back against my chair, I exhale a long breath and rake my fingers through my hair. “Fuck,” I mutter. “I’m sorry.”