“Geoffrey. Do you have a car I could borrow?” I needed some space.
“Borrow, sir?”
“Yes. Take out for a drive. I need to clear my head.”
“I’d be happy to take you in the car.”
“No, it’s fine, Geoffrey. Really. I’m happy to take it myself.” I do want to clear my head. But I want to do something else, too. And having the Broderick butler in on it isn’t in the plan.
“I insist. I’ll go and bring her around the front.” He walks off, leaving me alone again.
It looks like I don’t have a choice.
Chapter Twenty
IVY
I’m chewing my thumb. What the hell am I doing that for?
I lean my hands on the window ledge instead and gaze out at the car as it peelsout of the drive. It was only when I heard the door slam, something that’s not easy to do considering the weight of it, that I realised he was leaving. Maybe I should have gone down there and stopped him. Or perhaps the right thing to do would have been to fall hopelessly into his arms, showing my unwavering joy at the words he said. I can’t, though. It’s not real. How can it be? We’ve known each other less than no time at all, and if it wasn’t for his heroics, neither of us would feel this way.
Turning, I stare at the paperwork to try and distract myself from the mess I’ve just found myself in. Love? Not possible, no matter these feelings crawling around inside me. They’re infatuation, or lust, or some divine sense of sentiment for the man who rescued me and made me feel safe. Twice. And he’s probably just thinking it should be love because of his own loss. I mean, who wouldn’t if they’d suffered that sense of grief for someone they actually did love? You’d be desperate for it again, desperate to right the wrongs done to you by finding another person to replace that happiness. But me? I’m not his Amanda.
And I don’t know how to do what he’s asking me to do either.
Huffing to myself, I gather up the paperwork and my laptop to make my way down to Landon’s old office, hoping he doesn’t mind if I take over. I can’t think straight about Blake right now. We both need time to cool off, and perhaps when I’ve got this shit organised and I can see the path clearly, I’ll find a way to make him see sense about us.
I push the door open and find Landon sitting on the leather chesterfield in the corner, his brow furrowed as he looks at some paperwork of his own.
“Oh, sorry, I can go somewhere else to work.” His hand waves me at the empty desk, barely any other response than that. “Problem?” I ask.
“No. I’m staring for the sake of staring.”
“Oh. I guess that’s because Father isn’t here for you to continue your argument?” He drops the papers and looks up at me, a sigh coming from his lips. “Where’s Willow?”
“In the garden somewhere. She likes the outdoors.”
I set up my laptop and start typing. “And you’re not with her, why?”
“I’m considering some words your Mr Rhodes said to me. Perhaps making decisions because of them.”
“What did he say?”
“Relatively important things. How do you feel about him?”
“What?”
He stands and smirks a little, rolling up his shirt sleeves. The casual look of it takes me back twenty years, to a time when we were nothing but children with the world at our feet and a fortune behind our backs.
I look straight back at the screen rather than acknowledge childish dreams, or whatever he’s trying to talk about. “My feelings aren’t relevant at the moment, Brother. I need to find out what’s going on with all this crap. It was bad enough before, but now someone’s dared put my life in jeopardy, I’m spitting mad about it. And anything messy isn’t helpful.”
He chuckles. “Well, quite. How very Ivy of you.”
My face shoots round to glare at him. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Landon, what?”
