Page 55 of How to Play the Player

“Fine,” I concede reluctantly. “But I want to be involved in every step she takes on our behalf. Nothing she does goes out without my approval.”

Jonathan and Kiera exchange another one of those looks. As if I’m missing some kind of point.

“We expect nothing less.” Jonathan eventually brings his gaze back to me. “Quinn had already suggested you act as the liaison between her and us. She said you’d want oversight, and she’s willing to accommodate that to make this work.”

She anticipated my reaction, what I’d want, the control I’d demand. Is it because she knows me so well or because she’s manipulating the situation?

My phone then buzzes, pulling me from my thoughts. On my screen, I see a text from an unknown number.

Quinn Sanders will ruin your reputation like she’s done to you before. Smart clients cut ties before more damage is done. You should think about doing the same.

I stare at the message, a cold realization forming. This doesn’t seem like someone targeting Knight Industries directly. What if this is about Quinn? Could someone be trying to destroy her credibility by sabotaging her clients?

The theory sits uncomfortably in my mind. If this is true, that would mean Quinn is innocent, that I was wrong about her. But I can’t dismiss the evidence against her, either. For me to be certain, I have to have more information.

“Nathan? Are you okay?” Kiera’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.

I don’t show them the message. Not yet. Not until I understand what we’re dealing with.

“I’m fine,” I lie. “Just realizing there could be more to the story.”

If someone is targeting Quinn and using her clients to destroy her professional reputation, that means anyone connected to her is at risk. Not just Jonathan or Knight Industries.

Regardless, though, the result is the same. My family’s reputation is being dragged through the mud because of her.

As Jonathan goes on to outline his talking points for the board meeting, my thoughts keep circling back to the anonymous text message. There’s something about it that pokes holes in my initial assumptions.

If Quinn leaked the story herself and is trying to maintain innocence, it wouldn’t make sense for her to anonymously send a text to me warning about her; it adds insult to injury.

Regardless, the text message complicates things. Who would target Quinn this way? Why? What’s their motive? And why use my brother’s relationship as ammunition?

An hour later, I’m following Jonathan to the boardroom when my phone buzzes once more. I glance down, expecting another threat. Instead, it’s a message from Quinn.

Whatever you believe about me, I’m going to help make this right. For Jonathan and Kiera’s sake. Meeting with Dallas Lifestyle in less than an hour to implement crisis plan. Will update you afterward.

Professional. Focused. No mention of what happened between us or my accusations.

At this point, I don’t know what to think.

Sliding my phone into my pocket with a sharp movement, I take my place beside Jonathan at the head of the boardroom table, anger hardening into resolve.

Chapter Eighteen

Quinn’s office

Quinn

The door slams behind Nathan, the sound echoing through my office. I flinch as hot tears immediately well in my eyes, the cold reality of what just happened washing over me like ice water. One minute, I’d been lying across my desk, Nathan’s mouth on me, my body basking in the pleasure and wanting more. The next, I’m being accused of betrayal. Again.

My hands shake as I finish putting the rest of my clothes back on. The intimacy we’d shared just moments ago feels twisted now, tainted by Nathan’s accusations and the coldness in his eyes when he’d walked out. I angrily swipe at the tears streaming down my face, but they keep coming, even as I finish cleaning up the cascaded papers on the floor and put them neatly back on my desk.

A sob escapes my throat as I sink into my chair. I press my forehead against the cool surface of my desk, letting the tearsflow freely. The contrast is unbearable. How could the same man who worshiped my body just minutes ago now believe I’ve deliberately sabotaged his family for a second time?

My chest aches in a way that feels both familiar and brand new. This isn’t the first time Nathan has hurt me, accused me, walked away. So why does it feel like he’s taking pieces of me with him each time? Why does his opinion still matter so much? Why does it all hurt far more than it should?

I close my eyes, and uninvited memories surface—Nathan bringing me soup when I was sick, staying up all night to help me prepare for a presentation, the way he’d absently play with my hair while we talked about anything and everything. The way we danced back at the Brick the other night. The way he kissed me so passionately. Things I’ve tried so hard to suppress in the back of my mind.

I thought what I felt for him was anger, resentment, perhaps lingering attraction. But as I sit here with my heart splintering all over again, I’m forced to the conclusion I can no longer deny.

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