Page 46 of Masked Secrets
STUART
Given the late hour, the drive from Beverly Hills to downtown only takes 30 minutes. We spend most of that time in silence, our hands entwined.
I should let go, but I don’t. Although she held up well, Brooke was understandably upset by the news of Mr. Champion’s death. Seeing that, my need to protect her immediately kicked in. If I’m honest with myself, she’s also a source of strength for me.
In reality, she’s quickly become more than that. I’m smitten with her. I thought being with her would get her out of my system. It did the opposite. After tasting her, holding her, having her, I may never be able to get enough, which is unsettling and confusing.
I’ve never felt this way about a woman. This has real relationship vibes, which was not in my plan.
I’m still enjoying the freedom my noble life allows. As long as my dad is alive and the Earl of Sandridge, my responsibilities aren’t too great. I travel, party with friends, and cut a few ribbons from time to time when Dad can’t. That will all change when I take over as Earl. Then my days will no longer be my own. That’s why I’m living life to the fullest now.
The weird thing is, I’m not sure my current life is making me happy. It can be lonely not having anyone to talk with about more serious issues, such as whether I’ll be able to fill my dad’s shoes when the time comes.
And I’ll admit that it gets old doing the club scene multiple nights a week, knowing that the women flirting with me and my friends are primarily after our money and the ability to say they spent a night with a royal or a noble.
That’s probably why Brooke made such an impression in the elevator. We had chemistry before she had any clue who I was. Then when she learned more about me, she pushed me away, which is more proof that she’s not like the women I typically meet. She’s so much ... umm ... so much more.
But I’d be a fool to give up my freedom before I become Earl, right?
Then why am I still holding Brooke’s hand as if she’s mine?
I’m royally fucked.
At the law firm,I ask for directions to the toilet and promise to meet Brooke in her office. From my last visit there, I remember it’s three doors down the hall on the right.
Reentering the hallway and walking toward her office, I hear Brooke talking to two of her colleagues. My steps slow when a guy says, “So you think you’re hot stuff assigned to that Lord. You’re not. It’s not even real legal work. It’s just babysitting duty. Don’t think it will help you make partner. If anything, it will do just the opposite.”
My jaw clenches and fists close. I’d like to punch that little shit! He’s insulted both Brooke and me in one breath. I’ll tell himwhat he can do with his outrageous statements. In fact, I’ll make sure that arsehole is the one looking for a new job.
Before I can move closer, Brooke fires back. “Justin, we’re supposed to be a team, not competitors. And Lord Sandridge is our client. He’s asked for legal counsel, so that’s my assignment. Whether it helps my chances for partner or not is irrelevant.”
Another female voice says, “That’s why you don’t belong here. Itisa competition. You’re just too naïve to appreciate it. All the better for us.”
“Then you have no reason to worry about me. You can put your efforts into chasing off one of the other attorneys who’s more of a threat to you.”
“We’ll think about it. Have fun babysitting,” the woman says.
When the two emerge from Brooke’s office, I recognize them. It’s two of the three attorneys I met at the fundraising lunch. Our paths are set to cross as I move toward Brooke’s office.
Seeing me, they exchange a quick, smug look. I expect them to be embarrassed that I may have overheard their conversation with Brooke. Instead, they seem too self-absorbed to consider that there could be consequences for their words or actions.
Cutthroat doesn’t begin to describe those two. Clearly, they’re out to destroy Brooke’s confidence and tank her career to improve their own chances at this firm. I won’t let that happen.
I’m fuming but decide not to confront them as we pass. I don’t want to make it worse for Brooke until I can neutralize those bastards.
Hurrying into her office, I find her staring out the window hugging herself. I quietly close the door. She turns her head at the click but turns back to the view outside. I stride quickly to her and wrap my arms around her waist.
Pulling her back against my chest, I kiss the top of her head and whisper, “I heard what those arseholes said. It’s not acceptable. I won’t let them hurt you.”
“I try to ignore them. It’s hard somedays. And I can’t believe they insulted you as well. I’m so sorry you had to hear that.”
“Shh. You have nothing to apologize for. I already knew they were losers. I promise they will not succeed at their game of intimidation.”
“Don’t be so certain. They’ve already chased away several junior associates,” she adds, wiping a tear from her eye.
I gently turn her toward me. Lifting her chin with my index finger, I look her in the eyes as I say, “Trust me. I promise they will not win.”
She nods, hesitantly. “Thanks for your support. We better call your dad. The death of Mr. Champion is the priority now—not my out-of-control colleagues.”
