The Takeover (The Miles High Club 2)

Marley’s eyes widen in horror as she listens. “What?” she mouths. “He called him stupid?”

“No job is worth your self-respect, Fletcher. Do not go back.”

“Mom, shut up. You’re making it worse. I shouldn’t have even told you.”

“Fletcher.”

He hangs up.

“That’s it,” I snap. “He’s gone too far this time.” I down my drink and slam my empty glass on the table and stand. “Meet you back at work. I have an appointment with Tristan fucking Miles.”

“Oh shit. Good luck.” She winces.

I punch my fist. “Bail me out of jail, will you?”

She giggles and raises her glass at me. “Yes, okay, what account do I take the bail money out of?”

“You’ll have to rob a bank.”

“Roger that.”

I storm out of the restaurant on a mission. Tristan Miles is looking for a fight, and he just found one.

Nobody calls my son stupid and gets away with it.

I march up to the reception desk in the Miles Media building.

“Hello, may I help you?” The young girl smiles.

“I’d like to see Tristan Miles, please.”

“Did you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry; that will be impossible.”

“You tell him Claire Anderson is here to see him.”

“I’m sorry—” she continues.

“Tell him,” I interrupt her. “I’m not leaving until I see him.”

She and the other receptionist exchange glances, and she dials a number. “Hi, Sammia. I have a Claire Anderson to see Tristan Miles in reception.”

She listens and then holds the phone down. “She’s just checking.”

I can hear my pulse as it pumps boiling blood around my body.

Boom . . . boom . . . boom.

“Okay, thank you.” She types something and hands over a security card on a lanyard. “You can go up. Hector will accompany you.”

“I can find it myself,” I snap.

“Nobody goes to the top floor without a security guard.”

He’s going to need one. “Fine.”