“Heavy on the sugar, right?” Lucius holds up a packet with the Magnolia logo across it, then rips it open with his teeth and pours the sugar into the shaker. It’s lewd and wrong, but he looks so good when he’s doing awful things. He starts shaking the drink, his gaze never leaving mine.
I force my attention back to Mr. Angles. “Mr. Angles, please. I need to—”
“He’s not going to talk to you.” Lucius finishes shaking the drink and pours it into a glass.
“We set a meeting. You agreed to see me.” I ignore Lucius and stare down at Arlo Angles. “Remember?”
“Berating him won’t change it.” Lucius adds some mint leaves and offers me the glass.
“What did you do to him?” I peer at the graying man who hasn’t said a word. He won’t meet my gaze, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
“Do to him? Nothing.” Lucius offers me the glass again.
I don’t take it, and instead entreat Mr. Angles again. “Listen, it is burning hot out here. I think we’d be more comfortable if we moved this inside. Just you and me. I have some great plans for the future of Magnolia, and you would be doing your shareholders a great service by simply meeting with me about how to move the company forward into a more profitable future.”
“Wow, you should do commercials.” Lucius smirks.
I should’ve taken the drink, because right now would be the perfect time for me to throw it into his smug face. Instead, I walk to the sunny swing and sit down, then strip out of my jacket.
“Mr. Angles, we can have this conversation out here if that’s the way it has to be. Okay, imagine a Magnolia that is—at minimum—thirty percent more profitable by year end. That’s what your shareholders deserve, isn’t it? You can continue to make—”
“What’s that?” Lucius is towering over me. At least he’s casting a shadow.
I keep going. “Now, the way to get to that profitability is to trim the fat and restructure the company from the top down. We keep the workers who—”
“Arlo, inside.” Lucius’s voice is almost a growl. “Now.”
“We’re having a conversation. Mr. Angles, I only need a little of your time.” Desperation has entered the chat.
Arlo gets up, his knees popping, and hustles inside.
I stand to follow him and give Lucius an acid glare.
“Stop.” He takes my elbow, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. “Who did this to you?” His gaze is on my upper arm.
Shit. I already forgot about the marks.
“No one.” I reach for my jacket, but Lucius doesn’t let go.
“Tell me who hurt you, Evie.”
I meet his gaze. “Is that a joke? You hurt me.”
“I’m not talking about five years ago. I’m talking about this.” He runs his fingers down the bruised skin. “Tell me who did this to you. All I need is a name.” His voice has that sinister quality that matches perfectly with his reputation and dark good looks. He’s a killer, as sure as I’m standing here, Lucius has blood on his hands many times over.
“I don’t have a name.” I tell the truth; I don’t know why. “And I can take care of myself.”
“That’s why you’re sporting bruises like this?” He leans back to peer at my other arm. His gaze darkens even more when he sees the matching marks.
“Lucius, I don’t need your help.” I pull my arm from his grip. “Unless you want to go ahead and surrender the keys to Magnolia.”
“Not happening.” He takes my jacket from my hands and holds it out for me like a pleasant valet.
I give him a wary look, then slip my arms into it. He runs his hands along my shoulders and leaves them there until I step away from him.
“I’m glad we had this special time. Now, I need to speak to Mr. Angles.” I march to the front door and turn the filigreed knob.
It’s locked.
I ring the bell.
No one comes.
I can feel Lucius’s eyes on me as I pull out my phone and dial Mr. Angles’s number. Straight to voicemail.
Fuck.
I whirl on him. “What did you do? Threaten his firstborn?”
“Nothing so boring as that.” He shrugs. “Everyone has their demons. I just know which ones to exploit.”
“I’ll get to him.” I turn away from the door. “It doesn’t matter what sort of bullshit you pull, I’m going to speak with each of the board members. And when I’m done with them, they’re going to happily jettison you and your entire family from Magnolia.”
He stares down at me for a moment, his face thoughtful. “How about we make a deal?”
“Now you’re offering me a devil’s bargain? Like I can trust you?” I want to laugh in his face, but at this point, I can’t risk anything even close to that level of emotion. It could break me. Isn’t it strange how strong feelings can call out their opposites? Laughter leads to tears or anger to desire.