My Father's Boss (The Family Affairs)

I was going to have to do something about him. He’d never done anything inappropriate with a client or a co-worker, so I hadn’t had any reason to fire him, other than the fact that I just didn’t like him. But I could send him to sexual harassment training and some others that might help him grow up. At the very least, it would keep him out of my sight for a while.

“Is it true?” Dana asked.

I blinked, having lost my train of thought.

“Did we lose one of our biggest clients because of a fight over a woman?” Her tone was annoyed, and her blue eyes were snapping with indignation. Dana was heavily involved in women’s rights, and it was her specialty in law as well.

“It’s not that simple,” I replied calmly. “Derek came on to the woman in question, and when she refused him, he pressured her, making her uncomfortable. In order to keep things amicable, I informed him of our policy that employees are not permitted to fraternize with clients.”

“Oh.” Dana’s righteous anger disappeared, and she nodded respectfully. “Thank you for defending her.”

“He fired us because of that?” another lawyer asked, unwilling to let the subject drop until they had the full story.

“In a manner of speaking. He let us go in order to resume his advances or, more correctly categorized, his sexual harassment. Since he was no longer a client, I saw no reason not to throw him out of the building.”

“And the lawsuit is because she chose you, eh?” George guffawed.

What an ass.

“She already belonged to me,” I snapped before I could think better of it.

Isabella gasped, and my gaze swung in her direction, concerned that she might be sick. But she was staring across the table in horror, and I followed her line of sight to see her father’s eyes pinned on me.

His face was so red, I was worried he might burst a blood vessel, and if looks could kill, I’d have been incinerated to nothing but ash. Confused by his reaction, I shifted my focus to Isabella, who definitely looked as though she was going to throw up.

“I told him about Derek hitting on me,” she confessed in a whisper.

Ah. So that was what this was about.

Ellis stood and placed his hands on the table before leaning over it and growling, “A word in private, Trahan?”

I nodded. “We hit most everything on the agenda. I’ll send out an email with the last few items. They didn’t require discussion in the meeting. It was simply convenient.”

The room was full of Ivy League–educated, high-powered lawyers, all over the age of thirty. Yet every face was filled with naked curiosity.

“That will be all,” I said a little more firmly. I could practically hear their silent sighs of disappointment at missing the drama.

Their exit dragged on, and I wanted to tear up everyone’s yearly bonus for giving Ellis more time to stew in his anger. The longer it went on, the less likely he was to handle things rationally.

Finally, it was just the three of us left.

Ellis dragged his icy stare away from me, and his eyes softened a little as he looked at his daughter. But his tone was harsher than I appreciated when he spoke to her. “Izzy, go wait for me in my office.”

“Watch your tone,” I snarled. Then I went down on my haunches in front of Isabella’s chair, concerned that this might be overly upsetting to her. “Are you okay?” She was pale, and I didn’t like the way her normally bright eyes had dimmed. “Do you want to go lie down in my office while I talk to him?”

“Beau, get away from my daughter!” Ellis boomed, but I ignored him.

Isabella took a deep breath and shook her head. “I’m not going to let you face him alone,” she vowed softly.

“I can handle it,” I assured her, brushing wayward strands of her silky hair out of her face.

“I know that, but you don’t have to. We should face him together.”

I smiled in spite of the situation because I should have expected this. My bombshell was gorgeous, smart, independent, and courageous. “If that’s what you want.”

Isabella nodded resolutely, so I rose to my feet and focused my steely gaze on Ellis. “She stays.”

“That’s not your decision,” he argued, slamming his hand down on the table.