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“It’s too early.”
“Is it? You’re head over heels for her. And judging by that photo?” She taps it. “She feels the same way.”
“Emily.”
“Fine. I’m zipping up.” She sets the Ibuprofen on my desk. “In case you need them. Oh, and did you have time to review the Kensington’s documents?”
Thanks to Lil, I did. “Yes.”
“Already?” The sides of her mouth lift.
“Don’t.”
“Alright, I’ll leave you to it.” She walks toward the door and opens it, about to step out, but stops abruptly.
My father appears, brushing past her, and she shoots me a questioning look.
“It’s fine, Em.” I give her a nod.
She nods back, slipping out and closing the door behind her.
I sit back, my eyes tracing every subtle movement of my father. “Didn’t know we had an appointment.”
He strides into the room like he fucking owns the place. I mean, he used to, but that was before he handed the reins over to me. “Do I need an appointment to see my own son?”
“We both know you didn’t come here for a social call.”
He takes a seat in front of my desk, crossing his legs. “I saw the photo.”
Of course he did. Everyone and their mother has seen it by now. “And?”
“And I’m wondering what the hell you’re doing.”
“I’m living my life. Is that a problem?”
“It is when it involves that Edmunds girl.”
I can feel my blood pressure rising, my fingers itching to reach for the Ibuprofen. “Her name is Lil.”
“I know her name,” he says. “What I don’t know is why you’re parading around with her like some lovesick puppy.”
“Lovesick puppy? Is that what you think this is?”
“Isn’t it? You’ve been obsessed with that girl since—”
“Obsessed?” I shake my head. “No. I love her. There’s a difference.”
He scoffs. “This isn’t a game. Her family—”
“Is none of your fucking business.” My voice turns low and dangerous. “Who I spend my time with is my choice, not yours.”
“It becomes my business when it threatens everything we’ve built.” He slams both of his hands on the desk.
I stand, matching his stance. “And what exactly have we built? A legacy of lies and manipulation? Of using people as pawns in your twisted games?”
“Watch your tone.” His voice is a growl, a warning.
But I’m done heeding his warnings. Done letting him control my life.