‘Where do we go from here?’ William goes on, ignoring my bemusement and looking to Miller.
Yes, let’s get this done with. I look at Miller, too, making him shift uncomfortably in his chair. ‘I still want out,’ Miller says, clearly uncomfortable under two sets of watchful eyes, yet his declaration is delivered with a load of determination. Determination is good. Although I’ve silently concluded that it isn’t enough.
‘Yes, we’ve established that. But I’ll ask you again, do you think they’ll let you walk away?’ It’s a rhetorical question. It requires no answer. And it doesn’t get one. So William continues. ‘Why did you take her there, Hart? Knowing how delicate things are, why?’
I seize up. Every guilty muscle in my body solidifies as a result of that question. I can’t let him take the flak for that one. ‘He didn’t take me,’ I whisper, ashamed, feeling Miller’s hold of my hand tighten. ‘Miller was at Ice. I was at home. I had a call on my phone. Unknown number.’
William frowns. ‘Go on.’
I gulp down some courage and look at Miller out of the corner of my eye, catching a soft, loving expression. ‘I could hear a conversation and I didn’t like what I heard.’ I wait for the obvious question but gasp when William says something else instead.
‘Sophia.’ He closes his eyes and inhales warily. ‘Sophia-fucking-Reinhoff.’ His eyes open and land on Miller with a bang. ‘So much for playing down your relationship with Olivia.’
‘Miller did nothing,’ I argue, leaning forward. ‘I was the one who caused this situation. I went to the club. I tipped Miller over the edge.’
‘How?’
My mouth snaps shut and I’m far back in my chair again. He won’t want to hear this any more than Miller wanted to see it. ‘I . . .’ My face heats under William’s expectant look. ‘I . . .’
‘She was recognised.’ Miller steps in, and I know it’s because he’ll be blaming this part on William.
‘Miller—’
‘No, Olivia.’ He cuts me off and leans forward a little. ‘She was recognised by one of your clients.’
The regret that invades William’s face fills me with guilt.
‘I watched as some slime ball tried to claim her from me, offered to take care of her.’ He’s beginning to tremble, the reminder re-stoking his anger. ‘Tell me, Mr Anderson, what would you have done?’
‘Killed him.’
I recoil in response to William’s short, menacing reply, knowing for certain he absolutely means it.
‘Well, I spared him –’ Miller relaxes back in his chair – ‘just. Does that make me a better man than you?’
‘I believe it might,’ William replies, no hesitation and with complete honesty. For some reason, I’m not surprised.
‘I’m glad we’ve cleared that up. Now, let’s move on.’ Miller shifts in his chair. ‘I’m getting out, I’m taking Cassie with me, and I’ll tell you exactly how.’
William regards him carefully for a while, and then both men turn to me. ‘You want me to leave?’
‘Wait in the bar for me,’ Miller says coolly, showing me a face that I’ve fast become familiar with. It’s his I’m-not-budging face.
‘So, you only brought me in here to fuck me on his desk?’
‘Olivia!’ William scolds me, pulling my contemptuous glare from Miller to him for a few moments. He’s returning my glare, and if I wasn’t so slighted at the moment, I’d snarl at him. But I accept I can be of no help here. In fact, everything that has brought us to now only confirms that I’m a hindrance, but I’m pissed off for . . . everything. For feeling helpless, for being difficult.
Standing quietly, I turn my back without another word and escape the tension, shutting the door quietly behind me. I walk numbly down the corridor, navigating my way to the ladies’ washroom, ignoring the fact that I know exactly which way to go. I disregard the looks of interest being thrown at me by men, women, and staff on my way. It’s hard, but I succeed, the knowledge of what further state of hopelessness the looks could cause giving me the necessary strength to do so.
Once I’ve used the toilet, washed my hands, and stared at myself blankly in the mirror for an age, I make tracks to the Lounge Bar and settle on a barstool, quickly ordering a glass of wine – anything to focus on except what may be going down in William’s office.
‘Madam.’ The barman smiles, sliding my drink across to me.