Page 28 of Mr. Wrong (Hollywood Knights #1)
Twenty-Eight
Lex
“Lex.”
Cracking an eyelid, I tilt my head and look up to find Landon standing over me, hands dug into his pockets, a worried expression on his face. As soon as he sees me looking at him, the worry is chased away by a look of impatient annoyance. “Did you sleep out here?”
Sitting up with a sigh, I swing my legs over the side of the chaise lounge I’m stretched out on and look around.
It can’t be more than 5AM, which means I’ve been camped out by the pool for only a few hours, but because I don’t really want to answer questions about where I was and what I was doing, I just nod.
“Yup,” I tell him, reaching up to swipe a rough hand over my face.
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be halfway to London by now? ”
“They’re holding the plane,” he tells me, obviously unhappy about it. Even though he owns the plane and can leave any time he wants, he’s a stickler for schedules. Hates it when he has to make adjustments. “We need to talk.”
“No,” I say, dropping my hand with a sigh. “We really don’t.”
“For the record, this wasn’t something I was trying to do to you, little brother.” Completely ignoring me, he lowers himself to sit on the chaise across from me. “Hiring Elle was something I was trying to do for you.”
Ellenore.
Of course, this is about her.
Because suddenly, everything is.
“ For me ?” I’m not really surprised, even though I should be. “Because I need a life, right? My own life ?” It’s what he said to me yesterday and remembering it still stings.
“I don’t want to argue with you, Lex—that’s not what this is about,” he tells me, his jaw tightening for a moment before he forces it to relax. “I came out here to tell you that you’ve won.” He stands up and re-digs his hands into his pockets. “You’ve won so, you can quit pouting now. It’s over.”
“What?” His verbal jab barely registers. I tip my head back to aim a glare in his direction. “You fired her?”
Landon’s gaze narrows on my face. “You told her that I hired her to take Rachel’s place.”
“Answer me.” Shooting to my feet, I brush his accusation away with an impatient swipe of my hand. “Did you fire her?”
“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” His arms tighten across his chest. “You wanted me to get rid of her. Wanted me to choose.”
It is.
At least it was a few hours ago.
“Goddamn it, Landon,” I say, pushing the curse between clenched teeth. “Just—”
“No, I didn’t fire her,” he tells me. “She quit.”
Shit.
“And you just let her?” That I can’t believe. Landon is stubborn. Can be completely immovable when it comes to something he wants and it’s obvious that having Ellenore here is something he wants.
“Of course not.” He looks at me like I’m too stupid to live. “It took some convincing but she’s agreed to remain in her position.”
“ Convincing ?” I feel my shoulders go stiff. My jaw tighten. “You mean you blackmailed her?” Even as I’m saying it, I’m hit by a wave of relief. Relief because Elle tried to leave and my asshole brother strong armed her into staying.
He gives me a bland, half-smile and avoids the question entirely. “But after a few hours sleep and some careful consideration, I’m inclined to let her go after I return from my trip.”
The bottom drops out and the relief drains away in a whoosh so fast I can practically hear it.
“Wait a minute…” I swipe a rough hand over my face.
“Ellenore tried to quit and you did what you do, which is whatever you have to, to get what you want, and then—once she’s sufficiently cowed, you just decided to fire her anyway? ”
“I’m confused,” he says, deftly side-stepping my pointed accusation. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“It is.” I say it too fast. Too loud. “I want her gone. I want things back to the way they were.” Even as I’m saying it, I know it’s a lie. I don’t know what the hell I want but it isn’t Ellenore gone. It isn’t to pretend she never happened.
He gives me an Oscar-worthy grin and shrugs. “Then it shouldn’t matter how it happened or why, should it?”
No.
It shouldn’t matter because I got what I wanted.
Ellenore gone.
So why do I feel like someone just jerked the rug out from under me?
“No.” I force myself to move, to shake my head in response, but the swivel of it feels forced and rusty. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter.”
“Good, then, it’s settled.” Landon nods and pulls his hands out of his pockets, showing them to me before clapping them together so loud it sounds like a starting pistol in the early morning quiet.
“Elle will stay on until I return—after that, I’ll cut her a check and send her on her way.
Until then, I expect you to be as accommodating and helpful to her as possible. Do you think you can do that?”
“Yeah.” I return his nod with one of my own and sigh. “I can do that.”