Page 4 of Heart Strings & Hotlines
He can’t be trusted.
Or maybe it’s me who can’t be trusted around him. I see handsome men all the time. I grew up among the elite where beauty is bred or created by a scalpel, but never have I had such an overwhelming reaction to someone after one freaking meeting.
My phone rings, and I’m so distracted by the memory, the intensity of his stare when we made eye contact the first time, that I answer without checking the caller ID. Rookie mistake.
“Charlotte.”
I swallow hard. Damn Thane Wilder. I’m going to blame him for this phone call too. Speaking to my father is the last thing I wanted to do today. Or ever.
“Hello, Father.” I sink into the office chair and drop my forehead onto the desk, then put the asshole on speaker. Anything is better than listening to him berate me directly in my ear.
“I’ve scheduled a meeting for next Monday at eleven sharp. I expect your attendance, and do not even think about showing up with that asshole attorney again. I don’t care what you believe you’ve built—you will not disrespect me again.”
I suck in a breath and count to four before speaking through clenched teeth. “My hotline and algorithm are not for sale. Not to you, or anybody else.”
My daydreams of a loving father who protected me were shattered well before puberty. Now our relationship is strictly about gaining control of my life.
“You ungrateful little?—”
“If that’s all you called for, you’re wasting your breath.”
“Charlotte.” My name has always sounded like a curse from his mouth. “You’re in over your head, little girl.” And there it is. The real reason he called. Daughters are meant to be seen, married off for power or money, and nothing else—at least in his corrupt world of powerful men who’ve gone unchecked for too many years. “If you think I’m the only one coming for your little company, you’re even stupider than I thought. I’ll block every move you make. I will fight you at every turn until I get what I want, and so will every other tech company in this country. You simply have no idea the war you’re bringing to your doorstep.”
What he says is probably true, and it’s why I can’t expand my hotline in the States right now. My next step has to be the European expansion. I just hope my best friend, Rowan, will accept my offer.
Without her running the European office, expansion won’t be possible. Not with the fights I’ll have to win here against men with no boundaries.
“Then perhaps the next time you call you should go through my attorney. Have a good day, Father.”
A gasp has me lifting my head from the desk. Kara Wilder stands in the doorway with her fist raised as though she froze mid-knock.
“You hung up on him.” Her voice is small, a stark contrast to her wide eyes. “I mean, I wasn’t trying to listen. I was…”
“It’s okay.” I force a smile for her benefit. “That’s what I get for putting him on speakerphone. Did you want to come in?”
She nods and opens the screen door that shrieks on its hinges.
“He doesn’t sound very nice.” I open my mouth to change the subject, but she goes on. “He actually sounds a lot like my dad.” My jaw snaps closed.
Considering our fathers are legitimate rivals in the technology industry, that doesn’t surprise me, but Kara is thirteen years old, and this conversation is already straddling the line of appropriateness.
“You stood up to him.”
This little girl stares at me as though I hung the moon, and it makes me protective in a strange sort of way.
“It’s important to stick up for yourself, Kara. Especially when there’s an obvious power imbalance. Just because someone is more powerful, it does not give them the right to belittle or attempt to intimidate you.”
“God, I’d love to tell my dad to go fuck himself.”
Shock has me sitting back in my chair. And then I burst out laughing. How many times have I had that same exact thought?
She sits in the chair opposite me, staring at the assembly line I’ve set up in front of me with packets for tomorrow’s activities.
“Can I help?” She’s so shy when she asks that my heart squeezes for her. How many layers does this little girl hide under the teenage sass?
“Aren’t you supposed to be in an activity with your brother right now?”
She shrugs and looks down, twisting her fingers in her lap. “He’s on the phone with Ophelia.”
