Page 62 of The Surrender
“Take all my clients?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not understanding.”
“I know people.”
I stop midstride, realization slowly falling. “No, Jude,” I say firmly. “That’s not how I want to do things.”
“You want to work your fingers to the bone?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” he says, simple as that. “What are we doing tonight?” Conversation over. He took my word and accepted it. Fuck, could I love him more?
Tonight, I plan on gently asking him about the medication I found in his cupboard. About his father. I just need to pick my moment and find the courage. “I need to be in bed at a decent hour so I can get some sleep. I missed the gym this morning too.”
“You don’t need to go to the gym. I’m your new personal trainer, and my way of keeping fit is much more fun.”
I’m not going to argue. “I’ll be finished at six.”
“I’ll be there.”
I hang up, grinning like a fool, but it falls when I spy Leighton in the distance with Gary. They high-five. Huh? That doesnotlook like a conversation where Gary just told Leighton he’s not Kimpton’scup of tea. I sip my coffee and wince at the bitterness. “Morning,” I say as I approach.
“Oh, Lazenby.” Leighton holds out both hands, like he wants a hug. “Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”
“Congratulate you on being a first-class creep?” I ask under my breath as I pass. What the hell have I missed? “What am I congratulating you on?” I keep moving, and Leighton falls into stride with me as Gary slips into one of the senior partners’ offices.
“My new clients, the Cartwright twins.”
I try so hard not to bring up my coffee. Fuck, he got the Cartwright twins from Liverpool? “Congratulations.” I chew over the word, trying to sound sincere.Shit, shit, shit.That’s a massive deal and will certainly lessen the blow of not being Kimpton’scup of tea. The senior partners will be thrilled. Did he sleep with them? Woo them? “I’m happy for you.” I smile as I turn my back at my door, pushing my way into my office.
Unfortunately, Leighton follows me in. I’ve had more than my fair share of him today already. He’s not done gloating. “Anything interesting to share?” he asks.
“No.”
He drops into the chair opposite my desk, getting comfortable.
“Is there anything else?” Fuck, I hate him.
“Maybe we should have that lunch sometime.”
“What, so you can refer some of Kimpton’s friends?”
His smile falters. “You have to have a certain connection with your clients, don’t you? Kimpton’s not my cup of tea, so I decided against taking him on.”
I cough over my coffee.
“I could share some insights,” he goes on. “You could share yours. It could be”—he waggles a brow—“productive.”
Is he for real? He appals me. “I’m not sure your insights are worth the price I would have to pay.”Like sleeping with you, you slimebag.I vomit in my own mouth as I flash a sarcastic smile, and Leighton chuckles as he stands and fixes his jacket.
“My insights are gold, and I’m offering you a front-row seat to a Leighton Steers seminar.” Off he trots to the door. “I’ll even share how I nabbed a meeting with the owner of Arlington Hall.”
Another choke.What the hell?“The owner of Arlington Hall?”
“Yeah, you remember him?” Pound signs ping into Leighton’s eyes when he backs out. “At the convention.”
