Page 31 of Crossing the Line
“So, PG, how do you suggest we handle our friendship?” Hercules bites into a maple-frosted doughnut. It’s the only one he insisted the girl put in the box.
I’ve just bitten into one with sprinkles. The sugary taste takes me by surprise.
“How is it?” he asks.
I realize I’m frowning, so I even out my expression. “Awfully sweet.”
He chuckles. “Just like you.”
I roll my eyes. “Such a flirt.” I cock my head. “I propose that, as a friend, you don’t flirt with me so much. Because…” My mouth is caught open. I can’t say that it’s because I’m having a hard enough time trying to resist him. “And touching me. You shouldn’t do that either.”
“What was that about, anyway?” he blurts.
I frown, confused. “What was what about?”
“Your lawyer being all handsy with you. You’re his client. He shouldn’t be touching you that way. He crossed a line.”
I think I’m experiencing cognitive whiplash.How did we get from me being supersensitive to his touch to Clive touching me? Plus…
“Clive didn’t touch me,” I say.
Hercules jerks his head back so far that he might suffer actual whiplash. “What? He put his hand on your back.”
“No, he didn’t.” I cock my head to the side, trying to remember. “Did he?”
“Yes, PG. He did.”
Well, I’m certainly not going to negate what Hercules saw. He seems pretty rattled by it.
“Maybe he should recuse himself from representing you,” he adds.
I lift my doughnut to my lips. “He doesn’t have to because I’m never going back to that hearing room.” I take a bite. “I think it’s all stupid anyway. And I didn’t know your family was seeking to share ownership in TRANSPOT.”
Suddenly, Hercules tenses up.Shoot, I’m mentioning our family business.It’s a red line, but I’m okay with crossing it.
Hercules leans forward, showing my favorite lopsided smile. “Well… we’ll let our brothers fight it out, won’t we?”
As if by power of suggestion, I nod. But I do like the sound of that. “Just so you know, I’m okay with what your family is asking for. I think my grandfather would be too.” I shake my head as two faces come to mind. “I think all the tension and the pushback is coming from Max and Uncle Leo. My grandfather was a reasonable man. He was a saint.” My own harsh tone catches me off guard. I compensate for it by forcing a smile. “He was.”
Hercules’s expression is unreadable. But I don’t think he agrees with me. I’m not sure why. He didn’t know my grandfather.
His cellphone rings, and he casually puts his doughnut down, wipes his fingers, and takes his device out of his pants pocket. Watching him be so blasé about receiving a phone call is amusing, to say the least. I bet Hercules is the most coolheaded man in the world. I like that about him too.
He says hello, and his eyebrows ruffle as he looks at me. Then he rotates in his chair to point his body away from me. “Just get a grip,” he says to whoever’s on the other end of his phone. After listening some more, Hercules pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Later.”
After he ends the call, he sits still for a beat. And then he faces me with a manufactured smile.
“Everything okay?” I ask, concerned.
His face is tight. “That kiss has found its way to the wrong people. I just have to do a little damage control.”
Suddenly I feel overwhelming dread. “Was that your brother Achilles?”
With a casual wink, he says that the caller was Achilles. Hercules is obviously trying to keep me from worrying. It’s not working, though. I’m worrying. If our kiss found its way to Achilles, then soon Max, my dad, or even Leo will see it.
“Hey, PG,” he abruptly says as he makes a phone call. It sounds like he’s changing the subject. “I wanted to call you this morning, but I don’t have your number. I should get it.”
I’m about to tell him when he raises a finger to halt me. All the ease he had before his brother is back. I wait as he tells his driver where he is and how we’ll be waiting for him.
