doubt that there remained an underlying current of danger, a threat unarticulated but nevertheless understood.
That tone told Mr. Lockland that Philip was done playing babysitter. It said that they both knew that Philip was no ordinary man and if Mr. Lockland insisted on continuing to bluster and preen, Philip would show him just how far from ordinary he really was.
He would, too. He would show him and by the time things got to that point, it would be too late for Mr. Lockland to take it all back, to say “Oh, never mind, I didn’t mean it, and didn’t you realize it was all a big joke?” There was a point of no return when it came to Philip’s relationships with people, either business or otherwise, and this one was rapidly approaching. It was up to Mr. Lockland whether he would choose to stop or move full speed ahead despite his multiple warnings. Fortunately for him, it sounded like he was leaning towards the former.
“Right, right. You’re right. I overstepped. I believe we understand each other.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. And what does that mean for our working with each other? Moving into the future?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Mr. Lockland replied just as quickly as humanly possible. “I’ll take care of it and get back to you when it’s all sorted out. Sound good?”
His tone had moved from that original pomposity to downright graveling, a sick kind of puppy dog sound. That tone said how glad he was to be almost out of this conversation, that he felt that he really might make it out alive. He had forgotten for a moment who he was talking to and forgetting a thing like that could be dangerous. He would have to be more careful, that tone said. He really would or else he would need to take a step back and assess if this was something he was really cut out for.
“Good,” Philip said in the same bland tone he had maintained throughout the duration of the rather short and yet somehow incredibly taxing conversation, “glad to hear it. Hopefully, we won’t need to speak again anytime soon, yes?”
“Yes! Yes, I’ll make sure of it. I’ll take on the whole fucking project if I have to.”
“I believe you.”
With that, Philip hung up the phone. He did believe him, he really did. It was pretty obvious that Mr. Lockland didn’t love the idea of any further contact with Philip, which was how he liked things between him and the people he did business with.
He wanted as few complications as possible so that he did not have to step in. Because when Philip stepped in, he was ruthless. That kind of ruthlessness could be messy and he wasn’t looking for messy at the moment.
Messy often led to an unscheduled move, and this was not a time when it suited him to leave town. Not when things were just starting to get interesting for the first time for a very long time.
“Christ, Philip, is that still the way you do things? You never really do change, do you? Not really, not hardly at all.”
Philip, who had been seated in a desk chair facing the vast wall of floor to ceiling windows behind his desk and staring out at the blanket of stars peppering the sky, shut his eyes briefly and steepled his fingers together. If the moment before he had felt like a master of sorts looking over his bustling kingdom, now he felt like a child. A bad child who had been caught in the process of doing something he knew he should not, who had been told before on more than one occasion.
He didn’t turn around to view the owner of his chastisement, not yet. He didn’t need to. He would have known that voice anywhere.
“Caroline. To what do I owe the pleasure? Did you decide the phone call just wasn’t going to cut it?”
“What do you think, Brother? And turn around when you talk to me. I’m not one of your little worker bees who you push around so well.”
God,