The tense muscles in his shoulders relaxed as he settled against the back of his desk chair. That’s why she was so quiet. She felt awkward about their argument, and they hadn’t cleared the air yesterday. In fact, yesterday had been business as usual, as if nothing had happened. Exactly the way Bran wanted it. “No problem. I’ve already admitted I shouldn’t have surprised you like that.” He stopped short of telling her the wedding might never happen.
“About Ms. Parker…” She shifted in her chair, her pants squeaking against the leather.
Here it comes. She’s going to criticize Carina. To prove he wasn’t dependent on Stephanie, he should threaten to fire her in response to any criticism. His stomach churned at the thought. I only have to threaten—I don’t have to go through with it.
“What about Carina?” He kept his tone and his posture neutral, taking a sip of water from his thermal cup, his muscles tense, as he waited for her response.
“I think she’s a great choice.”
If he hadn’t already swallowed, he would’ve spewed water everywhere. “You do?”
“Yes.” Her voice was firm, as if she had given the matter a great deal of thought. “She’s intelligent and attractive. Socially, she’s a good match.”
“Interesting. You’ve never said anything nice about her in the past.” Why was Steph complimenting Carina when they’d just had a big confrontation?
She hesitated, clearing her throat. “Sorry if I wasn’t encouraging before. You don’t need my approval, but I ought to support you in every decision you make.”
“Instead of expressing your honest opinion?” he asked, wryly.
“I changed my mind. Women are allowed to do that, you know. I was harsh and judgmental before. Decided to look at her the way you do.”
Who was this woman? Certainly not the Stephanie he’d come to know over the past two years. “And how do I look at her? Since I can’t see,” he prodded, hoping to provoke a bit of ire and bring back the old Stephanie.
“You know what I mean. There’s a reason you’re attracted to Carina. You could’ve had any woman you wanted, and you chose her.”
“Right. Any woman I want. Any woman willing to marry for money.”
“Branson Knight!” It was her scolding schoolteacher voice. He’d succeeded in irritating her. “You know, good and well, money isn’t your only asset. It’s not even your best asset.”
“Then what is my best asset?
“I can’t believe you’re fishing for compliments,” she barked, in an obvious sidestep. “How can someone be so generous and caring in one instant, and conceited and selfish in the next?”
He painted a scowl on his face, though he was ridiculously pleased she’d called him generous and caring. He jumped when he felt her standing beside him. He lifted his face toward her. “Why the heavy sigh?”
“Mr. Knight, can I be honest?”
“Always,” he said, and he meant it, though he cringed at her formal address.
“I need this job… now, more than ever.”
“So?”
“So, you’re wasting your time asking me these questions, because I’m bound to say what I think you want to hear.”
“Then let me tell you what I want to hear.” He stood abruptly, frustration rising in his gut, lapping at the edges of his control. “Just this one time, I want you to have the gall to say it to my face.”
“Say what?”
Her tone was small, like a small child cowering at his fury. But he didn’t care. Only his father, who cared nothing about him, had ever been straight with him. He couldn’t trust anyone—none of his friends, Stephanie, or even Fordham. He faced her and glared in a way he knew must be terrifying. Her feet shuffled away from him.
“I want the truth. That’s one thing I get from Carina. She’s blunt—honest to a fault.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her voice shook, but he continued his tirade. He jerked his hands up to point to his eyes. “Tell me to cover these with shades, so you don’t have to see them. Say I’m a monster. Admit when I get close, you turn your face or shut your eyes to avoid looking.”
“No.” She’d scrambled four or five feet away from him.