Page 10 of Professional Consult
“If you could just sit tight for the night and stop giving me so many damn problems, we’ll start fresh in the morning. Does that work for you?”
The urge to fight him has vanished. Running on adrenaline all day has left me exhausted, and I don’t think what I have to say matters much.
Tonight, I sleep on an uncomfortable cot.
Tomorrow, we’ll have a respectable chat. I’ll do some leveling myself, and we’ll figure this out.
“Fine.”
He starts walking over to his desk but halts suddenly.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
He bends down, picks up one of my shoes, and turns, shaking it at me. “Did you really throw your damn shoe? Like a goddamn toddler!”
Now he’s done it. I poke my face through the bars and glare at him. “If you wouldn’t have erroneously incarcerated me, then maybe I wouldn’t have had to resort to such childish measures.”
His jaw clenches and a vein on his forehead bulges to the point that I’m worried it might burst. Suddenly, his big bear arm winds up, only to crash down as he throws my shoe on the floor.
I blink a dozen times, trying to register what I just saw.
He isunhinged, and there is no way in hell I’m going to fight with him any more than I have. Tomorrow, I’ll call my lawyer and get this straightened out, then I’m going straight to Milton and demand that he fire Clint for the shit he pulled. I have all the leverage in the world. Heck, if I wanted, I could have his ass charged. We’ll see how he likes spending a few nights in jail.
That is, if you can get yourself out of this mess.
As Luke takes a seat at his desk, he lets out a slew of curses as he logs into his computer and begins pecking his fingers along the keyboard.
His massive form makes everything around him look small, like a parent playing on their children’s toys. In any other situation, this would be amusing, but right now, it only serves as a reminder of the damage he could do.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, which looks tiny.
He scowls.
This can’t be good.
“Do you have any fucking idea of the hell I’ve had to go through today?” he yells into the receiver. “The massive amount of bullshit? Your co-star isn’t a method actress—she’s a goddamn psychopath!”
What’s that supposed to mean?
“Whatever playground you think you’re building—double it! Throw in a goddamn library while you’re at it…are-you-fuckinglaughing?”
Cocking my head to the side, I watch Luke, studying his features as they go from angry to shocked to did I just shit myself?
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Dread washes over me as I realize the shit storm might get worse.
If Clint is as bad as I think he is, he could be bribing and manipulating his brother. Heck, he could be blackmailing him into fucking me over.
Luke buries his face in his massive hand and unleashes more curses as he stomps his feet. His bulky shoulders slump. “Do you realize what this could cost me? Cost Pond Spring? Or do you just not care now that you’re Hollywood royalty?”
Luke’s going to cave. He’s going to fuck me over.
“I could go to prison for what I did.” He chuckles dryly. “You could too.”
I pray to God that they do.
Luke sets his phone down, opens a drawer, and pulls out a bottle of whiskey along with two cups. After pouring generous helpings into the glasses, he gets up and makes his way over to my cage, handing me a glass.
