Linden: Rocking Pleasure: New Adult College Romance (Coral Gables Series Book 3) (34 page)

I set my luggage down and rummage in my purse for the key. Then I open the door and sneak in. A sliver of light is shining into the hallway where I leave my stuff. I enter the brightly lit kitchen. My dad is sitting at the breakfast table reading the paper.

“
Morning, Daddy,” I greet him.

He lowers the paper and looks at me. Then he rises with a smile. “Thalia, it’s good to see you.” He opens his arms.

I walk over and hug him tightly. “I’m glad to be home.”

“
And to start work on Monday?” he asks.

“
Ugh, maybe less so,” I say with a grimace. “Are you working today?”

“
It’s Sunday, honey, and I don’t work Sundays. On principle,” he laughs. “I’m so used to getting up at four thirty, though, that I decided to sit here and have a cup of coffee in peace. That way, I avoid the hubbub your mother makes in the morning.”

“
Wow. I must be really out of whack to think it’s already Monday,” I muse. “Thank God I have another day to rest.”

“
Well, no wonder you’re a little frazzled after all that’s happened in the past few weeks.”

I sigh. “Or maybe it’s just the lack of sleep. We drove here in one go.”

“
That’s what I meant, love. Go to bed and get some rest. We’re heading out early on Monday. I want to take you along to some appointments with clients.”

“
So that means getting up at three a.m.?” I inquire with a martyred look.

“
Nonsense. We’ll get up at four thirty. Or maybe four, if you need a lot of time in the bathroom.” He grins. “And now get yourself to bed. Your brothers are coming by this afternoon.”

“
Good night, Daddy.” I smile and trudge up the stairs.

I enter my old room, take a really quick shower, and put on short-sleeved pajamas. I fall asleep immediately, and thankfully, the memories don’t bother me this time.

Chapter 15

I sleep through all of Sunday, and through Sunday night. It’s unbelievable, but I’m glad I finally found the peace and calm that’s eluded me for so long. My dad wakes me at four thirty on Monday morning, telling me what to wear so I look sophisticated enough for meeting clients. I’m glad I packed a pantsuit and a simple black dress, because the dress code in his company is not casual.

Once we’re sitting in his car, I suspect Josh, his chauffeur, is breaking the speed limit, because my breakfast churns in my stomach every time he makes a turn.

“
Jesus, Dad, how can you bear this?” I ask under my breath.

“
I’m used to your driving, and your brothers’. Not to mention your mother’s skills. Josh has nothing on any of you, so what’s the big deal?” He chuckles.

“
Oh God,” I mutter.

Dad is typing furiously on his laptop, sending out emails thanks to his Wi-Fi stick and cursing loudly about mistakes his employees made.

***

It’s my lunch break, and I’m already tired again. I feel like laying my head on the table and taking a nap, but in ten minutes, I need to be ready and smiling for another client meeting. My father wants me to listen in and take notes. I know he’s still hoping my brothers and I will take over the company one day. I won’t tell him until I’m done with college that I want no part of it. Otherwise he might cut off the money. He knows I major in architecture, and that I want to be an architect, but parents are parents. They cling to their ideas just as tenaciously as any young adult who things they’ve got it all figured out.

“
Thally, could you bring the snacks and drinks into conference room number two?” Dad asks me in passing.

“
All right, Dad.”

I rise and stretch, walking slowly down the hallway because my feet hurt from all the back and forth I already did this morning.

“
Are we late?” I hear a familiar voice from the elevators.

“
No, we’re not. The appointment is at one p.m., we just need to tell them we’re here,” another male voice answers, also somewhat familiar.

Maybe I’m wrong. People always confuse my voice for my mom’s on the phone. I put a selection of different beverages on the lower tier of the cart, before taking the sandwiches from the fridge. They were delivered just twenty minutes ago. I place the plates on the upper tier.

I push the cart into the meeting room and place the food and drinks on the large table. Then I push the empty cart back and lean into my dad’s office. “Dad, I think the clients are already here. The conference room is ready, and I just need to send off those print jobs before I join you. Okay?”

He gets up from behind his desk and comes to the door. “I expect you to be there in ten minutes. Once we’re done with the pleasantries, things get interesting.” He leaves his office.

“
It takes as long as it takes,” I mumble and head back to my desk.

I take care of the print jobs, sending them to the printer as PDF files and then calling to let them know the files should be in their inbox. We need to make sure they’ll be printed as quickly as possible, because the job is an urgent one. Dad spends a lot of money to make sure his orders are processed quickly, so we need to put a little pressure on the printer.

When that’s taken care of, I grab my pen and notebook and walk into the conference room. As I walk to my usual seat, I thumb through the notebook to find the empty pages.

“
Good—” I all but choke on the greeting as I look up.

The room is filled with Linden, his band mates, and his fucking manager.

“
Good day, gentlemen,” I finally force out.

“
This is my daughter, Thalia,” my father says. “She’s going to act as my assistant on this project.”

I’m at a loss as to how to react. Doesn’t he realize this is my ex? He was angry about the gossip; doesn’t he recognize the guy I was with on TV? Why did he even accept this job? I can’t understand what’s happening here. However, I’m not going to work with Downstair Alley, that much is clear. I’ll say I have no idea what the target audience wants; then maybe Dad will pull me off the project and let me get back to sending off print jobs. That seems like a heavenly task right now!

But of course it’s even worse than I imagine.

“
Well, Mr. Leroux,” Pierce speaks up, “we’ve already covered what the band has in mind, and they want Miss Leroux to take care of this project on her own. They know each other, after all.”

Dad gives me a puzzled look.

“
Just a fleeting acquaintance, Dad; I don’t
really
know them,” I lie pointedly, not wanting to spoil the project for my dad’s sake, nor ready to make Linden and the rest feel comfortable. With even more conviction, I add, “I’m only an intern here, with little experience in the field, so I advise you leave it to my father and his expert partners, Mr. Cunningham.”

Pierce cocks his head to one side and studies me with the same cold calculation I felt when he sent me away that fateful morning, entering Linden’s bedroom with inconsiderate impertinence. “Miss Leroux, you’re not only squarely part of the target audience, but what’s more important is that the
boys
want you to be their
man
. If you refuse, we can always give the project to someone else.” This guy really has the threat down, the way he stresses certain words. I detest him.

I look at my dad, hoping he’ll say something to save me from having to work with Linden and his
boys
.

He clears his throat. “Gentlemen, my daughter can work on this project if she teams up with my best employees, but it would be far too much of a workload for her to accomplish on her own,” he says firmly. I know he is confused by their insistence. “I’m sure that would be in your best interest, too.”

“
I agree,” Linden says quickly. I can feel his eyes on my body, and I resent it.

The wounds have broken open again. I can feel the pain stab and choke me as badly as on that first day. I want to run away. I lean close to my father. “Dad, I don’t feel too well,” I whisper. “I need a few minutes of fresh air.”

“
Okay, but make sure to be back in ten minutes.”

His ten-minute rule annoys me. Even when I was a little girl, anything and everything needed to be done within this interval.

“
If you will excuse me now,” I say to Pierce Cunningham, before leaving the room in a hurry. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” I whimper, stumbling into my dad’s office and out onto his balcony. I lean against the warm brick wall and close my eyes. “Why, God? Why do you have to punish me like that? Why can’t I get a break?”

I sink down to the balcony floor and stretch out my legs. I feel like a rag doll left out in the rain. How could I forget that Linden wanted to give this promotion job to my dad? I knew they were coming to Austin, but I was sure that wasn’t supposed to happen for two weeks—and I also didn’t expect him to stand by his words. When he made the suggestion, I was flattered by his trust in my abilities, but now the prospect of becoming the project manager of their campaign seems like torture. I’d have to deal with him, his friends, and worst of all, Pierce Cunningham.

“
Thalia?” I hear the all-too-familiar voice. “Your father told me I’d find you here … I … ”

“
What, Linden?” I snap. “What else do you want?”

“
I wanted to see if you’re okay.”

“
I’m not,” I say hollowly. “Happy now? Please go.”

Instead, he sits down next to me. “To this day, I don’t understand what happened. Why aren’t you speaking to me anymore?”

I take a deep breath. “And you didn’t bother asking your manager, or Trish?”

“
What do they have to do with anything?” he asks.

“
Have you already forgotten what Delsin told you when he had you by the collar?” I answer without looking at him. “Let me refresh you. Your manager came barging into your bedroom, broke up with me for you, and handed me an envelope of money to leave and not talk to the press. I was not to mention our
affair
to anyone, because you were still engaged to Trish. Once he said that, it made sense that you still had that photo in your living room.”

Linden places his hand on my leg, but I pull away. “Don’t touch me.”

“
I did not know any of that,” Linden says. “As for the photograph … I just didn’t think about it. It had been sitting on that side table forever. But I can promise you that I’ll fire Pierce for what he did. And I am not engaged to Trish anymore, nor am I still with her. We’ve only met once in the last few weeks, and that was to return our stuff to each other. That was all.”

“
And you expect me to believe you?” I shake my head. “It’s too late for that, Linden. I don’t want anything to do with you. I don’t want to work on this project either, but I can do it for my dad’s sake.” I rise and dust myself off. “So, Mr. Priest, I’m ready to speak with you on a professional basis, but that’s about it. I don’t want to talk about anything private. I really don’t want to talk to you at all, to be honest, but if I have to for a few weeks, so be it. Don’t make it harder than it already is.” With that, I leave the balcony and return to the conference room.

“
Here I am,” I say as I sit down next to my father again.

Linden enters the room shortly afterwards, sits down, and stares at me. The other band members take over the meeting, setting forth their thoughts and ideas. I take notes, while my dad steers the conversation.

It seems to take forever, but the meeting finally comes to a close ten minutes after I was supposed to finish my workday. As we all say our mostly frosty goodbyes, my phone rings. It’s Nate.

“
Hello, handsome,” I greet him, purposely using the endearment so Linden can hear it. It may be immature to want to make him jealous, but I don’t care, and he deserves it.

“
Hey,” Nate says. “I’m sitting in your car, right in front of your dad’s building. Are you coming out? Oh … and is your mom always this … monopolizing? She made me eat three slices of cake, and I had to tell her everything I’ve ever done in my life. Sort of.” He sounds overwhelmed.

I burst into laughter. “Yes, she is. I’ll be right down, and you can tell me everything in the car.” I look at my dad. “Dad, I gotta go. Someone came to pick me up. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“
Of course, love.” He smiles.

“
Goodbye, gentlemen.” I nod at the rest before leaving the room, giving them no chance to say anything else. I grab my bag from under my desk and then rush out to the 38th floor elevators. I can’t wait for one of them to take me down to the ground and out of this damn building.

“
It was good to see you again,” Gavin says, materializing next to me. “And it’s even better to see you acting so professional. You weren’t crying or trying to slap some sense into one of us.”

I smile up at him. “Well, time flies. How are you?”

“
I’m fine, and it looks as if you’re okay, too.”

“
I can’t complain. Things are going great. No complications.”

The doors open, and we get in. Unfortunately, the rest of the band joins us before the doors close again.

“
And what are you doing tonight, Thally?” Gavin asks conversationally.

“
A friend is picking me up and then … I don’t know. Do you have any plans?”

“
Yeah, we’re headed into the dungeon to record new vocal tracks.” He smirks.