Stealing Her (Covet 1)

I held up my hand. “I get your point, and since you’re so impressed, let me make mine.”

Dad’s smile faded.

“I have shit to do.” I said it with a smile on my face. “And a fiancée I really want to get home to, so this conversation is done. Compare me to him again, and you won’t like the outcome.”

I took maybe five steps before he caught up with me again and put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t for one second think she won’t compare you to him too. Because one day, maybe even soon, she’ll know the truth. If I were you, I’d think about how truly excited you are for your brother to wake up from that damn coma and take everything back with a smile on his face while you sit in the background . . . again.”

My nostrils flared. “I want him to wake up.”

“Huh.” He shook his head and laughed. “I almost believed you.”

He left me standing in the hall seething.

And not because he was wrong, but because he saw the desire I had to do a good job, because he saw the feelings I had for Izzy.

I was well and truly screwed if he didn’t wake up.

Because my father just discovered that he had me.

And that I wouldn’t go anywhere, not with Julian’s legacy to continue, and not with Izzy still here. I kept a good pace on the way back to my office, and jerked my head at Kelsey, she knew things I didn’t.

I ran my hands through my hair as she closed the door behind her.

“I need enough coffee to stay awake for the next few hours without getting a panic attack. Can you also very discreetly call the hospital and check in on Julian for me? He has—” I started pacing. “He used to love heavy metal music, the screeching kind, maybe see if they can play some for him once a day, and—”

“Bridge.” Kelsey smiled warmly at me. “You’re doing a good job, everyone says so.”

“That’s the damn problem,” I whispered sadly. “I want to do well so when he wakes up he has this.” I spread my arms wide. “I need him to wake up.”

“I know you do.” She looked like she was going to say something else.

“What?” I crossed my arms. “You look like you have a question.”

“If Julian was here right now and he told you to walk away from this, from his life, would you be able to?”

“I don’t really feel like answering that question without being mind-numbingly drunk.”

She laughed. “It’s okay to be good at this, you know. It’s okay to be a little bit like him, as long as you don’t turn into the other Tennyson. Give yourself permission to be successful, alright?”

I gulped. “Alright.”

“And I’ll get all the coffee for you.”

“You’re incredible.”

“Hah, you’re the one with the power to give raises, just throwing it out there.”

“Hilarious.” I rolled my eyes. “Oh, and that other receptionist, the grumpy one who I’ve heard is rude to everyone on the phone, including Izzy?”

“Amy?”

“Yeah, send her in.”

“Right away.” She walked out and opened the door again as Amy swept into the room, looking every bit the haughty sort of receptionist my father would try to seduce. Her blouse was too low, her lipstick too bright, and she looked minutes away from asking me if I wanted a striptease.

“Amy.” I said her name with indifference. “I’m going to need you to pack your things. I’ll give you four weeks’ severance, which is really generous considering you’re actually being let go.”

“Excuse me?” She gawked. “Wait, you’re firing me?”

“Firing sounds too aggressive. Let’s just say I’m asking you to stop working for me in hopes that you’ll start working for someone else. Also, Izzy’s my fiancée and the future daughter-in-law to Edward Tennyson. Learn who to be a bitch to. Now grab your things.”

It was probably the first time in my life I did something that resembled my father’s behavior and also the first time I didn’t even mind.

She stomped out of the office.

And when she started throwing shit into a box, I had security escort her off the premises.

Kelsey returned with two huge coffees and winked. “Keep doing things like firing freeloaders and you’re going to become the new superhero around here.”

“Did he . . .” I almost couldn’t ask it. “Did Julian ever . . .”

Her face softened. “No, not for lack of trying on her part, but he never caved.”

I sighed in relief. “Good. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Anytime, Julian.” She said my name with emphasis, which made me laugh.

Amazing that weeks ago I was training in the gym and bartending. And now . . . I turned around and sighed . . . running a multibillion-dollar company.

I felt less imposter and more anxious.

That I was living a life I did nothing to earn.