Page 39 of The First Taste

But as I watch Ella’s face, her eyes wide and her attention rapt, I remember just why I made that decision. It put us in the middle of what people are really talking about and moved us away from the stiff upper lip crowd that we’ve always catered to. Whether it worked as intended is up to anyone’s interpretation. But I’m certainly glad that I made the call right now.

“Wow. So this is Glasgow.” Ella whips her head around and looks out another window.

We pull up outside the headquarters of our store and I shove open the door, stepping out as I straighten my tie. I lean back in and offer Ella my hand.

She looks up at me, those brown eyes studying me intently for a fraction of a second. And then she puts her hand in mine and gets out of the car. There is no frenetic media horde waiting for us here. The rules and laws are very different in Scotland and that sort of paparazzi stocking their prey would not be allowed. Certainly not to the degree that I witnessed in New York. Offering Ella my arm, I nod to the building. Ella is looking up at it, her mouth tightening as she takes in NewsCorp's giant logo, an outline of a blue globe with a big yellow arrow swishing through it.

“Come on. James and Natasha are likely already here.”

I pull her along and can’t help but notice the moment of distaste that appears on her mouth. I’m not sure why Ella would feel any unpleasantness about going into our headquarters. It’s not as if she already knows to expect a unfair treatment or anything.

Before I even reach for the door, it is swung open by a tall, dark suited man with graying hair. His piercing blue eyes and good looks mark him as no one else could. It’s my father and he looks really fucking angry right now.

My gaze connects with his and he lifts his chin in a faint sneer. “You’re late. Come along.”

He turns on his heel and marches into the building without another word. He definitely noticed Ella but his derision remains steadfastly for me.

I repress a sigh and lean closer to Ella to whisper in her ear. “Apparently Lord Grayrose and Lady Maura have made an appearance. I thought that we would have a little more time before you were subjected to them. But alas…”

She turns a questioning look up at me but I just steer her through the doors and into the massive lobby. My mother is standing twenty feet away, wrapped in a black silk sheath. She is so thin that she looks like a dagger and her hair has been twisted into a silvering elegant knot.

At the moment, she doesn’t even acknowledge me. Instead, she fawns over James, picking an invisible piece of lint off his jacket shoulder and smiling at him while he tells her a story. Natasha is nowhere to be seen. Not surprising, as she has been the target of my parent’s criticism many times before. She has chosen wisely, although I wish she were here so that I could send Ella along with her to leave the room.

No such luck, of course. Steeling myself, I blank my expression and release Ella, pointing at the bank of plush seats across the way. She glances at me, raises her eyebrows. I nod and then she heads off toward the seats, keeping her head down.

My father claps me on the back in a welcoming gesture. His hand lands like a solid brick and I have to struggle to keep my expression from showing that the blow actually hurt me. My eye twitches and I rub my temple gently as I look over at him.

My father grins at me, showing all his teeth in a smile reminiscent of a shark. “Have you been keeping up with NewsCorp or just partying on vacation while the rest of us work our fingers to the bone?”

He said it in a jocular way but I know him all too well. He isn’t kidding about the fact that he thinks that I have been slacking off. I press my lips into a thin line and narrow my eyes at him.

“I was just gone for the weekend. NewsCorp is fine. Better than fine, actually. Did you see the latest numbers that Smith sent over? They say that the business has hit a new record high, up from last year and the year before that. All under my leadership.”

My dad smirks and shrugs his shoulders. “It’s a bull market. People have money right now. It’s easier to come by so called record highs when you have so many people with so much money to throw around. When I was the CEO of NewsCorp, we had nothing but bear market and we struggled to build the company from the ground up.”

I slide him a disapproving glance. “You inherited NewsCorp from your father. There was no building of anything.”

A flash of anger crosses my father’s face. “And just what the hell do you know about it? Nothing. And your leadership will run the company into the ground.”

Plastering a sickly smile across my face, I fire back a shot. “You know, you and Mum always have a ton to say about my management style. I fired too many people and I’m too aggressive. But I don’t hear you complaining when you cash your dividend checks. But it’s not too late for you to stop playing kingmaker.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“You and Mum made the decision when I was ending things with Kingsley that I should not run for Prime Minister anymore. So you whipped up a plan and foisted the CEO position on me even though it’s traditionally given to the second son. And you put all your political power behind backing your second son for Prime Minister.” I turn, putting a hand beneath my chin as I look over at James. “How is that all working out for you? Is he giving you everything that you need?”

My father’s expression turns black as night. “Don’t talk about your brother like that. We made a good choice. The only choice, given that you could not keep your family together. Even with $1 billion in your bank roll, you couldn’t play house with Kingsley. We had no choice. You didn’t leave us one.”

I lean over and clap my father on the back, hitting him so hard several times that my hand hurts. “Enjoy living with the decisions that you made. You made your own bed, so go lie down in it with James.”

My father opens his mouth and the look on his face says that we are about to have it out. But my mother chooses that moment to stroll over, James acting as her escort. They are arm in arm and James has the smuggest looking smile on his face, which is more punchable now than it has ever been.

Mum scrunches her lips into a prim how-do-you-do smile. “Keir. I’ve been talking to your brother and he has quite the report about your activities this weekend.” She swings her head around and spots Ella, her tongue darting out. She wrinkles her nose and turns back to me, arching a brow. “Sleeping with the catering staff? Really?”

My heart begins to thud in my chest. It’s not as if I didn’t see this coming. Mum tends to hear what she wants and she doesn’t want to hear anything good about me. She gave up on that the day that I told her that Kingsley and I were getting a divorce.

“Now Mother,” James says, patting her hand. “I believe I said that she was a ballerina at the ballet fundraiser. Not merely some trashy caterer.”

His eyes dance as he looks at me, daring me to disagree.