Page 96 of Conflict
Before I can contemplate the matter further, a commotion across the dance floor catches my eye. In an instant, all the warm fuzzies my mom brought to the surface flee, and all I see is red.
I’m on cloud nine. Even though I hadn’t wanted to admit it, I was nervous to meet Shane’s parents. Sure, I’d seen them at the wedding, but I wasn’t Shane’s girlfriend at the time.
I shouldn’t have worried. They welcomed me into the fold as quickly as Branson’s family had with Ariana. In fact, Shane’s mother can’t stop beaming every time she catches her son stealing a kiss from me.
“You know, you’re the first woman my son’s ever brought around.”
Shane’s father, Clay, interrupts my thoughts. I bring my attention back to him and see him smiling down at me. God, if this is any indication of how well Shane will age, it’s a good sign. Clay’s eyes are playful, crinkling at the corners with signs of years filled with laughter.
“I don’t know if that says more about him or me,” I tease.
Clay’s laughter echoes throughout the room. “Ah, my dear, I think it says the most about you. The poor boy can’t take his eyes off you. I don’t even think he trusts his old man with you.”
I laugh. “Considering we’re here celebrating your thirty-fifth wedding anniversary, I’d say he has nothing to worry about.”
A fond expression takes over his face. “Thirty-five years and I still find something new to love about Maria every single day.” He peers down at me. “I want that for my son.”
I swallow hard. “I do, too,” I answer honestly.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?”
The snippy tone catches me off guard.
Clay stiffens and then turns me away from the offender. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Oh, I was downstairs in the bar, enjoying a cognac, when I heard about the celebration up here on the rooftop. Clay, thirty-five years with the same woman? How boring.”
I know that voice. Bile rises in my throat at the vehemence.
“Ms. Covington. Color me surprised to see you here, mingling with the enemy.”
Clay raises an eyebrow in my direction.
Anxiety washes over me, but I set my chin and do the best thing I can: I tell the truth. Placing a hand on Clay’s arm, I smile at him and then at Mr. Wellsley. “Clay, I’m not sure if Shane told you. I’m an accountant at Wellsley-Callahan,” I inform him. I nearly sigh with relief when he gives me a knowing nod. “And I certainly have no enemies here.”
Mr. Wellsley’s lip curls up in disgust. “There’s something to be said about mixing business with pleasure, Ms. Covington. Tell me, are you whoring yourself out to the highest bidder?”
My reflexes cause me to lift my hand, ready to smack him. I don’t give a damn who he is; no one speaks to me that way. Unfortunately, his own reflexes are quicker than mine and he catches my wrist, yanking me towards him.
“If we weren’t paying you enough, you could’ve just asked for a raise.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him where he can shove his raise, but before I can say a word, his hand on me is yanked away by a hulking, angry, possessive man.
“Keep your fucking hand off my girlfriend or you’ll lose it.”
Shane’s voice is low, menacing, but instead of intimidating Mr. Wellsley, it does the opposite. His sneer deepens.
“Your girlfriend.” His scowl turns back to me. “How convenient. Tell me, were you dating a Wellington before or after you were assigned to the Filiatrault team?”
Shane snaps his head toward me, his brow furrowed. “Filiatrault? That’s what you’ve been working on this whole time?”
I swallow hard as Wellsley’s booming laughter fills the air. When I catch Shane’s eyes, he gives me a wink and I realize what he’s doing. He’s pretending he had no idea, for my sake. To protect me.
“Oh, God. You didn’t know? That’s rich.” He brushes his hands back and forth. “I suppose my work here is done.”
“Get out, Archibald.”
Maria joins us, sidling up to her husband’s side and giving Mr. Wellsley a chilling stare.
