Page 24 of The Client
Lowering my voice, I banish my annoyance and use a calm, coaxing tone as I tell her, “Izabela, listen, I don’t know what my father or anyone else might have told you, but it is entirely inappropriate for you to be here right now, do you understand? You need to go. Now.”
I expect her to get up, sashay down that hallway, and disappear. But instead she lifts her chin and gives me that same steely look I remember.
She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can get a word out, we’re interrupted by my father’s broad frame filling the doorway.
“There she is,” he says. His gaze shifts to me. “Silly boy, did you think she was here for you? I hired her for myself.”
Smugness is coming off him in waves as he moves to Izabela’s side and takes her arm, pulling her up from the chair. The easy slide of his hand through the crook of her elbow makes my stomach turn.
“Thanks for being the warm-up act, son, but I’ll take it from here. Show her what a real man’s capable of, am I right?” He makes a finger gun at me and gives a littleclick, clicksound with his tongue like we’re two frat boys passing a co-ed around. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
I’m literally seeing red.
Fuck this.
I home in on every part of his body that’s touching her. His hand, his arm, the side of his chest, and his hip. I take one look at Izabela’s face and instantly make up my mind.
There’s no way in hell I’m letting my father leave with her.
“Izabela,” I say, crisp and businesslike, “I need you to call your employer.”
She looks uncertain for a moment, glancing at my father quickly before digging her cell out of her clutch and inching away from him. A few taps later, she raises it to her ear and waits.
“This is Izabela Jasinski,” she says into the phone. “I need to speak with Mr. Zoric, please.” Her cheeks turn pink from whatever the response is. “Yes, I’m aware that he’s very busy. This is in regard to a…job that I’m on. No, I can’t call back later—”
I grab the phone and put it to my ear. “This is Rhys McConnell. Put Mr. Zoric onnow.”
The line goes silent and then starts to ring.
“What are you doing, Rhys?” my father says impatiently, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “She’s bought and paid for. You’ve got no say in this.”
I ignore him as someone picks up and gruffly barks, “Zoric. This better be good.”
“Mr. Zoric, this is Rhys McConnell.”
“Yes. My secretary informed me,” he says, his voice friendly and ingratiating. “I don’t believe that you and I have yet had the pleasure of engaging in commerce.”
“No, we have not.”
“Which is unfortunate, Mr. McConnell. Because if we had, you would know not to call my office during business hours. This isn’t how it works, I’m afraid. So you’ll have to just—”
“I have a proposition for you,” I interrupt, sensing he’s about to give me the brush-off and hang up the phone. “I want Izabela. Exclusively. For a term of six months.”
In three strides, my father is at my side, gripping my arm painfully with one hand while he tries to grab the phone with the other. Diverting, I break his grip and stop him from another attempt with a glare.
Zoric clears his throat. “Regrettably, we’re not able to offer exclusivity at this time—”
“Do you know who I am?”I thunder into the phone, privately sickened at how much I sound like my father in this moment.
“Of course, Mr. McConnell,” Zoric says, reverting to his false friendly tone. “You’re the future CEO of McConnell Enterprises, and one of the country’s richest men under thirty! But do let me arrange some complimentary entertainment for you instead. Miss Jasinski has already been paid for by another client, incidentally. She’s not available. Perhaps I could find you another—”
“I would think the future CEO of this company is worth keeping happy far more than the aging father who got passed over. This isn’t personal, Zoric. It’s business.”
My father’s face is red now. Izabela has backed up against the wall, twisting her hands in front of her as she glances nervously between my father and me. Either way, she’s going to end up with a man who’s going to use her. But I’ll pay any price to watch my father lose.
“We have a deal, Zoric?” I say.
Zoric makes an uncertain sound, as if he’s still struggling to decide. I don’t have time for his hemming and hawing. I have a meeting to get to. It’s time to close this deal.
