‘I remember you too,’ she said, a smile not quite reaching her eyes.
He scrunched up his nose.
‘Smells of shit in here,’ he said, looking around. ‘Can you close the window?’
His question hung heavily in the air. Laurel glanced at Nate, who coughed and headed to the conference table. Alex swung around, hungrily absorbing everything in her office. He was too big for this room, took up too much space. His jacket was ever so slightly too tight across the shoulders.
‘So, Alex,’ she started, ‘what do you think of the site?’
‘Well, could be better, I suppose,’ he said, tucking his hands in his jeans pocket and rocking back on his heels. ‘Of course, more finds would be beneficial, Nate, wouldn’t it? And you know, it being somewhere not as backwater-y as this shithole?’
How. Fucking. Rude.
Laurel clenched her jaw and glanced at Nate, who was watching their exchange with wide eyes.
‘It’s promising, though?’ she pushed.
Alex blew out an exasperated breath and shrugged.
‘Sure, why not.’ He smiled like a viper.
‘I’d be happy to give you a tour of the rest of the farm if you’d like, show you how we could accommodate more visitors, why we’d be perfect for investment.’ Because without his recommendation for funding, she wouldn’t be able to buy Hibbert’s fields and her vision for Lower Houghton would be shattered and broken.
‘Nah, I’ve seen all I need to,’ he said, his eyes raking down her.
Laurel willed herself not to cringe. She was not having a good reaction to Alex Woollard.
Alex turned his back and stretched out in one of the conference chairs, making himself at home. In her office. On her farm. In her life.
She clenched her jaw.
Alex linked his fingers behind his thinning hair.
‘Mine is black coffee, four sugars,’ he called vaguely in her direction.
Laurel’s eyes widened in anger and heat rose in her face, blood throbbing in her temples, threatening to spill out in a tirade of ‘get it your fucking self’.
Nate caught her eye and she couldn’t tell whether he was pleading with her or warning her. Either way it was inappropriate, and confirmed that Alex Woollard was the same self-centred, arrogant fuck he had been ten years ago.
‘I’ll go, I need a coffee. Peppermint tea?’ he asked her as he passed.
She nodded abruptly. It was a peace offering, it was an apology, a reminder that not everyone was as much of a dick as Cesspit Alex.
Laurel tried a different tack.
‘Nate tells me this is your first senior liaison position. Congratulations,’ she said, perching on the edge of her desk.
‘Oh yeah,’ he glanced over at her. ‘My first official position, but I’ve run lead on loads of sites, so none of this is new to me,’ he said, dismissively, tapping away on his phone.
Mmm hmm, neither was being a douche, obviously.
Alex threw the device on the table and swivelled in his chair to look at her with narrowed eyes.
‘So, you and the good doctor, then? Just like old times?’ He smirked.
Laurel’s heart plummeted.
‘What?’
