Free Uncovering You: The Contract by Scarlett Edwards Page B

know, a radiant smile curls her lips. As Stonehart and I pass, she gives me a little, secret wink, almost as if to say, “Go get ‘em, girl!”
    Stonehart stops before the doors. His hand leaves my lower back as he adjusts his suit. He takes hold of the handles, twists, and the sound of a dozen angry voices fills the air.
    They cut off as Stonehart makes his entrance. All eyes are drawn to him.
    I count fourteen men, all older than he, seated around a polished conference table. This is a corner office, so two of the walls are glass, overlooking the skyline. The third is also glass, but that one looks into a bustling, magnificent, modern office.
    Not one gaze flickers to me. I feel invisible.
    “Gentlemen,” Stonehart announces. “I’ve made my decision. There will be no more debate.”
    A great swell of protests rises up, and again is cut off when Stonehart raises his hand. “My associate here has more courage than any of you.” He looks at me. “You could learn from her.”
    Stonehart presses a button under the table, and the doors to the rest of the office slide open. “This meeting is now over.”
    I watch the entire exchange with a sense of awed reverence. These are obviously important men. Yet Stonehart took control of them as if they were children.
    When the room is empty, Stonehart closes the doors. He then walks to a bar in the far corner of the room. Bending behind it, he pours himself a glass of scotch. When he turns, he seems surprised to see me. “Lilly. You’re still here?”
    “You called me to have a meeting—”
    “We’ve had it.” He walks to his desk, which has nine different screens arranged in an array above it. He does not look at me again. “You may leave the same way we came.”
    I’m astounded. The man called me here promising reparation. He praised me in front of his colleagues. Then he dismisses me like an unwanted maid?
    “You said—”
    His dark eyes flash. “Are you questioning me?”
    “No, but I thought—”
    “Lilly.” His hand hits the desk. I jump. “I stress, do not ruin the impression you have made. Rare is it that I repeat my words, but I will do it this time, for your sake: Leave. Do not make me angry.”
    The presumptuous asshole!
    Dozens of choice words run through my head. I can tell all of them would be wasted. I huff and stalk out, slamming the door behind me with a satisfying thud .
    I’m halfway to the elevator when I hear the clicking of heels on the floor behind me. “Miss Ryder. Miss Ryder, wait!”
    I turn to see the young girl from the desk running after me.
    “I almost forgot! Jer—I mean, Mr. Stonehart—wanted me to tell you about dinner reservations tonight.”
    I look at her like she’s mad. “What?”
    “He asked me to tell you that he requires your presence at dinner at Nemea tonight.” She speaks so quickly that it’s hard to catch her words. “He said for me to tell you when you left, but it almost slipped my mind. Thank God I remembered!”
    I shake my head. “I doubt he wants to see me again after the way we left things.”
    The secretary’s eyes widen. “Oh, no, no, Miss Ryder, you must have misunderstood him. Mr. Stonehart can be a difficult man at times. He was adamant about my asking you. He doesn’t make that type of offer to just anybody.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean, it’s obvious you must be his friend’s daughter or somebody important for him to go to so much effort for you.”
    I narrow my eyes. “What effort? What do you mean?”
    “Whoops,” she gasps. “Maybe I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Oh well,” she winks, “it’ll be our little secret. Okay just so you know…” She unlocks the iPad under her arm and swipes into an app. “Your reservation is at eight, but the driver will be outside your place at six-forty.”
    “Hold on,” I say. “I didn’t even agree to this.”
    She rolls her eyes. “Come on. It’s not like you can turn this sort of thing down. Reservations at Nemea are