Page 6

Leonard

T he limo line is endless. It seems everybody is here for Raphael’s party, and maybe that’s true. When the Senator asks you to attend a charity event, you cancel all your appointments and come in your best attire.

I study the parking lot from behind the tinted window. Leaving these comfortable leather seats and the refreshing air conditioning will take me a while. Mid-June weather will make us sweat in these tuxedoes, even with a pleasant breeze outside.

A loud bang from the left side of the car startles my driver, making him lose his usual poker face. I hired him ten years ago, and I haven’t seen him smile once. Sometimes I wonder if he even has the muscles on his face to curve his lips upward.

I turn toward the noise and see a familiar rusty yellow Beetle parking beside the catering service truck.

“Jesus, is that thing still running?” I murmur to myself.

I notice the driver’s eyes briefly meet mine in the rearview mirror. Yeah, I know. I’m surprised too. The last time I saw that car was four years ago at Raphael and Silver’s wedding, and the most annoying girl was driving it.

As if I summoned her, Roxanne steps out of the car.

First, her long, toned legs peek out of the slit in the fabric, her small feet wrapped in golden sandals.

The rest of the lean figure follows, wrapped in a dress of the same color.

She looks like a present ready to be unwrapped.

Sexy as sin and with a regal bearing very few can pull off so naturally.

It’s like she owns the world, and she probably does.

It’s a shame that package comes with the most annoying attitude.

I watch her strut toward the entrance, her chin high, her strides long, and her long legs making more than a few heads turn.

By the time I finally step out of the car, she is already inside the garden, rocking the crowd next to her sister, Silver.

She seems a bit detached, but the smile never leaves her face.

These events can be very tiring, but they are also an excellent opportunity to revive those connections that are so useful in this environment.

I don’t know what she thinks about them, though.

She is not exactly a billionaire willing to open their wallet for a donation while discussing the most crucial work-related topics.

She is probably here because her sister asked her to be, and is bored out of her mind.

She probably already illegally obtained all the information she needs about the people here at this event.

I’m surprised the FBI is not here to arrest her.

A small smile curves my lips at the idea of something like this happening tonight. Raphael is so deeply connected with the FBI that I doubt anyone will risk his wrath to get their hands on the little sister-in-law and famous white-hat hacker.

“Why are you smiling?” Harrison’s voice penetrates my thoughts.

“I was thinking, how funny is it for Raphael to have a sister-in-law who can make his life a living hell?” I grin turning my head toward Harrison and his partner, Sienna.

“Who is she?” Sienna asks.

“The one in the golden dress next to Silver.” I point at Roxanne.

“ That’s her? Jesus, she’s grown up a lot since Raphael’s wedding.” Harrison’s mouth is hanging open in surprise.

“Look at those pigs drooling all over her,” Sienna points out with disgust.

I look past the two of them and see at least ten old farts undressing Roxanne with their eyes.

They could be her grandfathers, for Pete’s sake!

My gut clenches in an uncomfortable grip.

She doesn’t deserve those filthy eyes on her.

Nobody deserves to be treated like a piece of meat ready to be devoured.

“You look like you want to murder someone.”

I turn my gaze from the disgusting show toward Harrison, who has an amused grin on his face.

“Are you okay with the way they’re looking at her? She’s not a piece of cake to stuff into their filthy mouths,” I point out.

My friend frowns. “No, I’m not okay with that, but I don’t really want to smash someone’s face in just for looking at her,” he points out.

His statement unsettles me. I would do it because I know what thoughts are going through their minds at this exact moment. They’re the same thoughts that have crossed my mind time and time again, and I feel guilty about them. She is a guilty pleasure a forty-year-old shouldn’t indulge in.

“Well, I’ll kick their asses if they try anything funny,” I grumble.

“Who are we fighting?” Aaron joins us with Dakota at his side.

He is a famous producer in Hollywood, and his fiancé is one of the most promising actresses of our generation. He definitely gets what we are talking about. A lot of men hit on his woman without any restraint, and he is doing a damn good job at staying out of jail.

“The pigs that are fucking Roxanne with their eyes,” I point out, nodding toward the crowd.

“Jesus! She grew up,” Aaron blurts out.

“She is gorgeous in that dress,” Dakota adds, admiring her lean figure.

“Nobody is concerned about how they’re looking at her?” I ask, frustrated.

All eyes turn toward me, and I feel suddenly exposed. Why am I so upset about it? I mean, I saw her once four years ago. Just saw her? My conscience reminds me of my faults.

“Yes, but it’s not like we can cause a scene or gauge their eyes out,” Sienna points out, and my friends look at me with curiosity in their eyes.

I look like a fool. “Okay, whatever,” I grumble for the second time in a few minutes.

It’s going to be a very long night. I usually try to enjoy these events, but I’m not doing well right now. Every time I’m in the same room with that girl, I become a mess.

“I’m going to drink something at the bar,” I say stalking away without waiting for them.

I need to vanish for a few moments, before saying or doing something I’ll deeply regret. I make my way towards the bar, but my path is abruptly intercepted by Philip Sullivan. My mind, consumed with thoughts of Roxanne, had failed to register my surroundings. Now, it’s too late to evade him.

“Leonard Walton! You’re exactly the person I wanted to talk to tonight.” He chuckles and extends his hand.

His handshake is unyielding, a reflection of his unflinching demeanor.

Philip is a tycoon with an iron grip on the most lucrative oil-related companies in the United States, and he’s a man of mystery.

Speculations about his rise to power swirl wildly, but one thing is certain: crossing swords with him in a negotiation is a surefire way to end up on the losing side.

He’s a master at reducing opponents to tears, always getting what he wants.

This is precisely why I should steer clear of him, especially when my mind is preoccupied with a certain blondie sporting pink-tipped hair. The last thing I need is to be drawn into a business discussion with him.

“How come? Are you thinking about changing businesses? Am I in trouble?” I smirk at him.

Whenever we meet, we always engage in a playful dance, carefully balancing between teasing and delving into the heart of our conversation. We never reveal our intentions too soon, as no one wants to be at a disadvantage to the other.

“Why? Is there anything interesting I should know? Are you branching out into my business…or, you know, some other area?” He raises a knowing brow.

He knows about HD Security. How the hell did he get this information? We kept everything under tight wraps. We haven’t even discussed proceeding with the acquisition because we’re still in the preliminary stage.

“I’m not going to involve myself in the oil business. Trust me, I don’t want to have to negotiate contracts with you.” I may have dodged the question, but I know he is not convinced.

His sharp gaze remains fixed on my face. The intensity of his scrutiny makes me feel uneasy, but I make sure to keep a smile on my face. Showing any signs of fear in front of him could be fatal.

Finally, a shark smile crosses his face. “I’m happy you chose not to cross paths with me. It would be a shame to squash your business. But don’t worry, with anything else you’ll be fine, as usual,” he says and I don’t miss the implication in his words.

My non-reply is confirmation for him. HD Security will be hearing from me as soon as I leave this place.

I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night.

We agreed not to utter a word about it. We signed a contract, and they breached it.

I know my people didn’t do it. I trust them with my life, so the information had to come from someone else.

Philip puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes, maybe for reassurance or maybe to let me know I don’t fool him, but I’m happy when he excuses himself and leaves.

When I finally reach the bar, I’m more nervous than before—the Philip debacle has made me more upset than Roxanne’s admirers.

“They let anyone come to these parties. I should tell my sister to be more selective with her guest list.” Roxanne’s voice brings me back to reality.

I turn toward her, leaning against the bar counter. She is even more gorgeous up close. She has a slight smile on her face, and I can’t tell if the cutting remark is a serious jab or if she is teasing me.

“Yes, people with pink hair shouldn’t be allowed in a grown-up place. Or the grown-ups should get a babysitter if they can’t leave their kids at home.” I grin, hoping she understands I’m joking and she doesn’t get offended.

She rolls her eyes and smiles. “At least I’m a bit colorful. You’re all dressed the same with freaking sticks up your butts. Do you all meet up somewhere to buy your identical tuxedoes?” she fires back.

She is a piece of work. I forgot how irritatingly teasing she can be.

“Right, and you’re the one matching your hair with the car you drive. How can you even think about coming to an event like this in your own car?” I point out.

I’m not too keen on people trying to be unconventional just to rock the boat. You can have your own ideas and be an individual but show some respect for the ones putting their hearts into organizing these kinds of things—her sister, in this case.

“Of course, I should pay for my limo with the money I make enslaving my employees in shitty jobs that barely pay enough to support their families while I become a billionaire. Wait, that’s you, not me. I don’t have that kind of money, but I do have my dignity.”

I feel the unease growing in my gut. How dare she judge me without even knowing me? She has no idea how I treat my employees, or she wouldn’t say those things. She’s just a kid playing hacker, thinking she’s better than anyone here because she drives a shitty car.

“I can see you’re still a brat.” Gone is my playful politeness.

“Last I checked, you were the one being rude to me,” she snaps, leaving all pretenses behind.

“And the last time I met you, you were the one acting like a spoiled teenager,” I reply.

She scoffs, clearly offended by my statement.

“Sorry to interrupt this lovely conversation, but they’re serving dinner.”

Raphael’s voice is like a cold shower. I suddenly realize I’ve lost my composure in a place full of people who know me and can tear me apart if I do something stupid, like fight with this girl.

It takes all my strength to get myself back in check and follow my friend to our table. Next to me, Roxanne struts with her chin high and long strides to keep up with us. God forbid she comes in second to someone.

When I look at the assigned places at our table, I lose my cool again. “Come on. Seriously? Next to her?” I ask Raphael, noticing Roxanne’s name next to mine.

My traitor friend chuckles. “You’re the only two singles. Do you want me to split up a couple?”

“I swear, any table but this,” I murmur, but Silver can hear me.

“Don’t be melodramatic. It’s just a dinner, and, by the way, she’s the only one here who even understands what you talk about. You’re such a nerd, you could be from another planet. None of us understands when you start in with your commentary,” she points out, not totally wrong.

Sometimes, when I start to rant about my job, I feel like a fish out of water.

My friends lose interest after the first few sentences.

Although they try to understand and ask me questions, it feels more like I’m teaching them instead of having a constructive conversation.

Roxanne is probably the only one who can challenge me in that sense.

When I glance toward her, I can see that she is trying to hide a slight smirk.

“Fine!” I give up and sit with Roxanne on my left and Silver on my right.

“And you can also talk to her about the problem you’re having with your company,” Silver drops with a wink in my direction.

I want to kill her. She did it on purpose. She suggested her sister a few weeks ago and didn’t take no for an answer. I glare at her while Raphael clears his voice to hide a laugh.

“You have a problem with your company? What a shame you can’t solve it yourself. Aren’t you the big tech guru?” On my other side, Roxanne beams at my troubles.

Of course, she is enjoying every single moment of this conversation. She hates me; why shouldn’t she be happy if I fail at something?

“I don’t have a problem, and I certainly don’t need your help,” I spit rudely.

Her smile fades.

“Did you get to the bottom of it?” Raphael frowns, interested in knowing if there is some development I didn’t tell him about.

I give him a scolding glance, hoping he drops the subject. But he doesn’t and I feel obliged to give him an answer. “No, I didn’t, but that’s not the point.”

“So, what is the point? Enlighten me!” Roxanne challenges me with venom in her voice.

I turn toward her and look her straight in the eye. “I don’t want to give a delicate job that could sink my company to a kid with pink hair who plays at being a hacker,” I spit, and all the chit-chat dies around the table.

The fury that inflames her face almost knocks me out of my chair.

A flash of hurt crosses her eyes before she can hide it behind her stony face.

I feel like a complete jerk because I could have let her down with an easy lie, but nothing is easy when it comes to her.

She makes me want to challenge and fight her every step of the way.

My reasoning goes out of the window when it comes to interacting with her.

“Well, don’t worry. I don’t work for shitheads like you, so you don’t have to ask me,” she spits out before excusing herself to go to the bathroom.

And maybe that’s the main reason I don’t want to ask her. The fear of being rejected makes me a coward.