“Do you have an appointment, sir?”
“No.”
“Then you—”
She breaks off mid-sentence as the door to her right opens, and Archer fucking Daring himself comes out.
“Logan Bennett, what a surprise,” he says.
So he knows who I am. Perfect.
“I will make this quick. I ran a background check on you and found out all about your scam business. Stay away from Nadine, or I will destroy you.”
“You’re all talk,” he says through gritted teeth.
“I can close your miserable stores with one phone call.”
“Archer. . .” the secretary pleads. At least she has the decency to worry.
“You son of a bitch,” Archer spits. “You and your family run around, thinking you own the world because you have more money than me? You think that makes you better?”
“I never screwed anyone over. No one in my family has. That makes us better than you.” I roll my palm into fists, fighting to keep my control.
“I screwed plenty of people, and I’m not sorry. Give me a few more weeks, and I might literally screw Nadine too. She seems stupid enough.”
“You have a death wish.” I lose my last shreds of self-control. My punch connects with his jaw. Taken by surprise, he stumbles backward. I throw in another punch, aiming to give him a black eye, so the moron has something to remind him how stupid he is when he looks in the mirror tomorrow. He hits me back with a vengeance, and we don’t stop until the secretary steps between us, her eyes wide and fearful.
“Mr. Bennett, please, leave,” she pleads.
“Don’t worry, I’m done here,” I tell her. Turning to Archer, I say, “Stay away from Nadine.”
At that, I stomp out of the office. The chilly air cools my nerves on the way to my car. Once inside, I inspect my reflection in the mirror. I bear no signs of a fight, except for my very prominent split lip. Damn it.
When Nadine asks me about it, I’ll have to do the one thing she asked me not to: lie to her. Coupled with the bank story I still haven’t told her about, I’m treading on dangerous territory.
Chapter Twenty
Nadine
“Okay, everyone, we’re done. Let’s all go home,” Ava says. We’re in the ballroom, where the show will take place tomorrow, having just wrapped up the very last rehearsal. Everyone is exhausted. Pippa tells me that they usually have the last rehearsal at least one week before the show. Since they replaced the designer with me, the schedule became even crazier.
“I can’t believe it’s midnight,” I tell Pippa.
She yawns as we head to the door. “I’m glad the show is tomorrow. I’ll sleep for a week afterward.”
“Me too,” Ava says.
“Let’s rest for a few hours tonight,” I suggest.
We step out of the venue and find Logan propped against his car, waiting for me.
“Someone won’t sleep tonight,” Ava tells me. She winks and leaves with Pippa.
“How long have you been standing here?” I ask Logan.
“Not long. Pippa texted me fifteen minutes ago that you were about to be done.”
Stepping closer to him, I notice his lip is split. “What happened to your lip?”