Page 185 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

“This meeting is adjourned. Everyone out.” he demanded in a loud voice.

Chairs screeched back, papers and folders were gathered up, people started moving with speed. Under the noise of the fleeing executives, Matt leaned closer to Adam, his words now came in a harsh whisper. “Get your fucking hand off her.”

The grip on my arm tightened reflexively before it was gone. Matt and Adam were staring at each other while I stood silent between their imposing forms as the last executive left and the door slammed shut. My eyes jumped from one brother to the next, unable to decide who wore the stonier look.

“Don’t ever touch her like that again.” Matt said quietly in one quick exhale of air.

“Sort it out, Matt.” Adam’s incensed grumble grated on my nerves. The ‘it’ no doubt a reference to me and my unexpected arrival. And was he on drugs? Grabbing my arm like that!

“I will,” Matt replied with a tight smile. “But didyouhear me? Don’t ever put your bloody hands on her, don’t you fucking dare touch her. Don’teverdo that again, Adam.”

Adam looked at me, making no effort to conceal his disgust. “Fine.”

“Good.” Matt shot back. “And?”

“And what?” Adam retorted, taking a few steps back.

I stayed quiet. My time amongst Matt’s family had taught me one thing: don’t get involved when they’re having a go at each other.

Matt just stared at his older brother, not saying another word. But his breathing became a tad more forceful as he stepped past me, putting his body partially between Adam and me. The tension bounced from one to the other, they were both angry.

A sneer curled one corner of Adam’s mouth up when he glanced at me once again. “My apologies. I overreacted.”

“Now leave us alone.” Matt said to Adam before he folded his arms and gave me his full attention.

I did catch the nasty look Adam sent my way right as he stormed out the conference room, but I labelled it under the ‘whatever’ part of my mind and focused on the love of my life who was now the bane of my existence. Folding my own arms I faced my husband. We stared at each other for a charged minute until Matt let out an exasperated sigh and cocked his head at me.

“I’m waiting.”

“Excuse me?”

He half-sat on the table’s edge. “For you to explain why you think it’s acceptable to come to my workplace unannounced, interrupt an important board meeting, and cause me to have a proper go at my elder brother.” Matt’s eyes narrowed into dangerous grey slits. “Well?”

I returned his look with one of my own. “Seriously? You have no idea why I would be here? That’s how you want to play this? TheI’m oblivious to what’s going ongame?”

Matt exhaled, exasperated and clearly annoyed. “I wouldn’t have asked if I did, Madison. Look, I have neither the time nor the inclination to deal with one of your episodes today-”

The strangled growl vibrating from my throat made him pause. One of my episodes? The murderous urges were coming back. With hands that trembled from rage, I rifled through my bag then pulled out the folded paper. Shaking it open I shoved it under his nose.

“What isthis? Huh? Do you really believe I am going to let you get away with this?” The decibels of my voice were climbing now. “Do you think I’m just going to bend over and let you-”

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” Matt cut me off and snatched the paper from my hand before squinting at it. Then he reached inside his open jacket and pulled a pair ofspectaclesoutfrom the inner pocket. I watched speechless as he put them on, speechless for a whole two seconds.

“You’re wearing glasses? What did you do?” It was off-topic, I know, but Matt had perfect vision. At least he had when we were together.

He scowled at me. Certainly embarrassed, if the barely there red tinge ghosting across his cheeks was any indication as he replied coldly, “Eye strain.”

“Permanent?” I asked, worried. “Have you thought about laser treatment? Maybe contacts?”

Another scowl, accompanied by a raised eyebrow which had a reduced effect due to the spectacles, was sent my way.

I peered at Matt. “Not that it looks bad. You look great, like a distinguished professor, maybe a librarian or something – um, it’s not degenerative, is it? This eye problem of yours-”

“Temporary eye strain, poppet,” he muttered, distracted as he assessed the paper in his hand. “Is this a copy of a mortgage statement?”

I didn’t think he was even aware of the nickname slip. I wished things had turned out differently for us. “The mortgage statement for my business premises. Why are you doing this to me, Matt?” I shrugged my bag off and placed it on the table. “Do you hate me that much?”

Matt raised his gaze to mine. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

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