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Color floods her cheeks. “I’m trying to save jobs?—”
“By spreading your legs for the enemy?”
The words detonate like a bomb.
Someone's coffee cup hits the table with a sharp crack. Papers scatter as Vicky jerks back. Logan's stylus clatters to the floor. Everyone freezes, then fourteen peoplesuddenly develop an intense fascination with their tablets, the table, anywhere but the disaster unfolding.
“Excuse me?” Layla’s voice is deadly quiet.
“You think I’m blind? The looks, the rumors, the way you defend him like a loyal little?—”
“Enough.” She stands abruptly, hands shaking. “You don’t get to do this. Not when you hid everything for months. Not when you let your pride destroy the company rather than ask for help.”
“I was protecting?—”
“Your ego!” The words explode from her. “You were protecting your image while everything burned down around us. And now you want to blame me for trying to save what’s left?”
“At least I’m not whoring myself?—”
“Don't. You. Dare.” She cuts him off, gathering her things with trembling hands. Her voice drops to barely above a whisper. “I won't sit here and allow you to treat me like this in front of everyone.”
She walks out, spine straight but shoulders shaking. Every part of me screams to chase after her, but I’m forced to remain in the suffocating silence she leaves behind.
“Mr. Carmichael,” I start, my teeth clenched. “Your behavior is out of line, and completely unprofessional. This isn’t just inappropriate—it’s disgraceful.”
Robert opens his mouth but then seems to realize what he’s done, his face crumbling from rage to horror.
“I should—” He half-rises, then collapses back. “Jesus Christ, what did I just…”
“Perhaps we should take a fifteen-minute break,” I manage, wishing there was something I could do to shieldher from this mess, to undo the damage Robert Carmichael just inflicted.
Caleb leans in. “Do you want me to say something? Clarify that Layla’s been handling everything above board?”
I shake my head. “No. This is between him and me. Man to man.”
People flee like the building's on fire. Within seconds, it's just Robert and me.
“Feel better?” I ask quietly.
He looks up, eyes haunted. “She's my daughter.”
“She's a brilliant executive who's destroying herself trying to save your legacy. And you just called her a whore in front of her entire team.”
“I didn't mean?—”
“Yes, you did.” I stand, straightening my jacket. “You meant to hurt her. Congratulations. Mission accomplished.”
“You don't understand.” His voice cracks. “She's all I have left. The company, my marriage, everything's falling apart, and now she's?—”
“Now she's what? Doing her job? Fighting for your employees? Being the adult you refuse to be?”
Robert's face contorts. “She's choosing you over her own family.”
“She's not choosing me.” I lean forward, hands flat on the table. “She's choosing to save as many of those three hundred and forty-two jobs as she can. Jobs your mismanagement put on the line. The fact that we're involved is separate from?—”
“So you admit it.” His eyes flash with triumph and pain. “You're sleeping with my daughter.”
“What I'm doing with your daughter is treating her with the respect she deserves. Something you just spectacularly failed at.”