Page 9 of Salvaged Hearts

“You can’t assume I’m particularly comfortable with this.”

“On the contrary, I thought your brother’s presence in the city would beof comfortto you. Congratulations to your family, by the way. You must be so proud.”

God, that patronizing tone made me want to stab something. Preferably that obnoxiously pretty face. “Yes, thank you,” I said flippantly, rolling my eyes. Before I could ask my questions, he was speaking again.

“I was calling for clarification, as tone cannot be conveyed via text. Your last message could be interpreted in a few ways, and I wanted to see which you meant it in.”

I pulled in a long breath, trying to decide how to navigate this. “I just wanted to make sure his position isn’t compromised by my leaving the company.”

“The two events are unrelated.”

“Okay. So, this trade didn’t have anything to do with ensuring my loyalty toHart Investments?”

A dark chuckle rumbled over the line, dripping in condescension that perfectly foreshadowed the next words from his mouth. “Don’t flatter yourself, princess.” Before I could balk at his use of the wordprincess, he went on to add, “Paxton Rhodes is the winningest quarterback in NFL history. His accuracy is unprecedented, his players worship the ground he walks on, he just led his team to his second Super Bowl win, and Oliver has been biding his time waiting for theWolvesto max their cap so he could add him to our lineup for years now. I assure you, it’s entirely coincidental that his little sister has beenfetchingmycoffee.”

My mouth fell open as I blinked into the starless void through my windows. It was an accurate representation of how efficiently he’d just emptied my chest of any trace of confidence.

Fetching. His. Coffee.

Don’t flatter yourself.

Well. The man certainly could remind the peasants of their place in fifteen seconds or less. I managed to keep my voice steady enough to utter a two-word response. “I see.”

“I had intended to share congratulations tomorrow morning as a courtesy of our working relationship, but the vultures in the press somehow got their hands on the briefing before it should have posted. Mr. Rhodes signs the papers tomorrow afternoon.” When his statement met a wall of silence, he cleared his throat. “You’re quiet. Is there something else you want to say, Ms. Rhodes?”

Go fuck yourself?Deeming that unprofessional, I swallowed and said, “No. Thank you for the clarification. I’ll see you at the weekly briefing.”No “sir” for you. So be it if my only form of vengeance could be enjoying stripping the formality from our dynamic.

“Have a good evening, Alessandra.”

With the subtle click of the line disconnecting, I slowly lowered my cell to the counter.

June could not come fast enough.

Greyson

I staredat my phone for a beat before muttering, “Fuck, Greyson,” then sighed and slid it into my pocket.

I’d gone too far. I knew it the moment the words were out of my mouth, but my irritation with the accusation in her tone got the better of me.

From the beginning, I’d decided that pushing her away was the only option. Had always been the only option. I couldn’tafford to like a woman that beautiful, lest she become a more glaring distraction. Liking her would complicate things.Liking herwouldcompromiseher.

Confused about the vernacular or not, Mattie hit the nail on the head when she called the woman my protégé. I’d certainly intended for her to fill my shoes someday. I needed her to familiarize herself with the ins and outs of the business in order to look after them once I turned my attention to more pressing ventures or was taken out of commission. Alessandra’s workload was heavy because Ineededher to feel the burden of it before she actually assumed the role I’d planned to offer her in a few short months.

Obviously, the approach backfired miserably. A fact that was more disappointing than it had a right to be.

Perhaps that played into my frustration tonight. Knowing that the most valuable asset in my arsenal was about to walk away, and I’d be back at ground zero, hunting for a mind sharp enough to step into our COO’s shoes—losing Tiffany was bad enough, but to lose her and Alessandra within months had a headache forming with the promise of many hours of tension.

I was still rubbing at my temples, wishing I could go back five minutes in time, when an elated squeal and blur of purple caught my attention. “Uncle Grey!! You came!”

Plastering a smile on like I didn’t just shoot myself in the foot, I turned to face a beautiful, beaming Mattie as she sprinted for me. She might only come up to my ribs, but my niece took up space like the heiress she was born to be.

Wearing a fitted light purple costume and pink tights, hair wrestled into one of those military-tight buns with some little flower thing wreathing it, she hurdled for me. I’d just knelt, arms wide, when she collided with the force of a tiny train. This was her fourth year in the Emerald Bay Ballet, and while Ollieand his ex, Carly, had initially signed her up, hoping she’d gain balance and coordination, she’d really learned to love dance.

I just loved that it made her happy. She was a tricky kid to keep that way.

“Of course, I came. Did you think I’d forget?”

She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “You had that art thing, too,” she explained with more understanding than any ten-year-old should have.

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