I snag a book that's sitting on top of a nearby pile and hurl it at him with everything in me. It hits the door with a loud crash, narrowly missing his head. He glares at me, but when I pick up a second, heftier book, it's enough to make him turn and leave quickly.
Once I'm alone, I bury my face in my hands and try to sort through all the thoughts and emotions swirling through my head. The contract looked legit, but there's no way I could possibly know what Anderson Development's letterhead looks like. It's not like I have a stack of it sitting here for reference. For all I know, it could easily be a fake.
I tell myself not to jump to conclusions until I talk to Liam in person. He's never given me a reason to doubt him. Which means I have to trust him.
At least, for now.
ooo000ooo
“Hey, there you are,” Skyler says as she waltzes into my shop.
She drops a bag onto the counter – presumably, what she brought me for lunch. I'm appreciative, of course, but at the moment, eating is the last thing that I feel like doing.
“Here I am,” I mutter.
“Brought you something to eat,” she says. “Enrique is trying out a new recipe, so I want you to tell me what you think. And be honest.”
I give her a smile I hope looks more authentic than it feels. “Thanks.”
She looks at with an odd expression on her face, obviously knowing that something is wrong. But, she waits to press me on it. At least, for the moment.
“You'll never guess who stopped by the Grill today,” Skyler says.
“Who?” I mumble.
I'm still feeling like shit – thanks to my earlier exchange with Goodrich. There are so many questions rattling around in my head. I'm having trouble with it all. If what Goodrich said is true, it means that Liam has been lying to me this whole time. Using me... Stabbing me straight in the back.
“Gatsby! I finally met your reclusive lover and got to have an actual conversation with him,” she beams brightly. “And I have to say – nice job, Paige. Gorgeous, intelligent, witty, and rich – and he knows how to get you off like a rock star? Damn, he's actually someone I'd consider marrying – and you know that I don't say that easily. Well done, sweetie.”
“You barely know him,” I say.
“I've lived vicariously through you, so it's almost like I know him,” she says, her smile wide.
I smile slightly, starting to feel a bit better. It's hard not to under Skyler's unrelenting assault of cheeriness. Mostly, I'm just amused by her shenanigans. Though I have to admit, Liam is pretty nice on the eyes.
“He seems like a nice guy though,” she says. “A good businessman too.”
I sigh. “Like you'd know anything about his business.”
She raises an eyebrow as she looks at me. “Well, he did talk about it with me, a bit,” she says. “I may not know all the finer details, but I do know a little –”
“Wait,” I say. “You talked to him about his business? About what exactly?”
“Developing the town, of course,” she says. “When he came into the Grill, we talked for a while. He told me not to make any deals with Damon Moore and that a better offer was on the way.”
I freeze, that gut-wrenching feeling of nausea rising up within me once more. “And?” I ask. “What did you say?”
“That at the moment, I'm not interested in selling. That I'm doing just fine on my own, thank you very much,” she says.
“And what did he say?”
“That if I ever am interested, to talk to him,” she says. “He told me to steer well clear of Damon Moore. Said the guy is bad news.”
I sigh and shake my head, feeling like I might throw up. This can't be. This just cannot be.
“Yeah, I guess your lover boy wants a piece of the pie, after all. Well, a piece of the town development pie in addition to the Paige Samuels pie,” she says and laughs. “Can't say I blame him. From what I gather, it's pretty lucrative. And honestly, if I ever decide to sell, I'd rather work with Gatsby than our scumbag mayor anyway –”
“That's it,” I mutter.
I throw down the books I was trying to put away before Skyler came in and walk toward the front door. My hands trembling with anger and a dark rage bubbling up within me, I fumble around with it for a moment before finally managing to get the “I'll Be Right Back” sign up in the window.
I usher Skyler out the door before turning around and locking up the shop. Skyler stands on the sidewalk, her hands on her hips, a confused look on her face.
“Taking me to lunch to celebrate?” she jokes.
“No, I need to talk to Liam,” I say.
“Ahh,” she says, a mischievous smile on her face. “Gettin' yourself a little afternoon delight, I get it. After seeing the guy, I really get it. Like, a lot.”
“No, you don't get it. You really don't get it –” I snap.
“Excuse me?”
Skyler looks at me, her eyes wide with hurt, matching the expression on her face. I feel like an ass for lashing out at Skyler. She didn't do anything. She was just unlucky enough to be standing in the path of an oncoming hurricane of rage. Hurricane Paige.
“I can't talk right now, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you,” I say. “It's nothing to do with you, Sky, I promise. I just – I just need to go see Liam.”
I need to tear Liam a new one, is more like it. But I don't want to say that because I don't have the time to stop and talk. I hurry off toward my car, my blood boiling. I so badly want to think the best of Liam, but the evidence is quickly stacking up against him. Tears well in my eyes as I climb into my car and nearly break land speed records as I drive over to his place.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Liam
I'm enjoying my lunch out on the patio off my home office, Hemingway by my side, when I hear voices in the house. No, not just voices engaged in conversation – I hear shouting. Janice is clearly arguing with someone. I start to walk back into the house to see what's going on, when I see Paige and Janice enter, shouting back and forth at one another.
Paige is fuming, completely red in the face, and poor Janice is doing her best to hold her ground. Doing her best to keep back the charging bull that is Paige Samuels. I have no idea what's gotten her so worked up, but I need to defuse the situation quickly.
“Hey now,” I say, stepping in between the two women. “What's going on?”
Janice normally keeps her cool and remains unflappable about most everything, but this has gotten to her. Clearly. She points at Paige, anger in her eyes. I've never seen Janice this upset before, and if not for the anger on Paige's face, I might almost find it comical. But, there is a tense energy in the room and I know that something is about to blow up in my face. Big time.
“I told her I needed to check with you before sending her up,” Janice almost shrieks. “But, she pushed past me and came up anyway.”
“Because I shouldn't have to get permission to see you!” Paige says.
“It's alright, Janice,” I tell her. “I got this. Just go get some tea and try to relax for a bit.”
Janice shakes her head angrily and exits my office, leaving me with a pissed off Paige – and I have no idea why she's so angry in the first place. I walk over to my bar and pour myself a drink.
“Would you like one?” I ask her.
“No,” she says, pacing the room. “We need to talk, Liam.”
“Okay, let's talk,” I say. “What's got you so riled up this morning?”
I take a pull from my scotch and lean against the bar. I have to admit, Paige is pretty hot normally. But, when she's mad, there's something about her that's even sexier. Something that's even more appealing. Something about that wildness and rage bubbling out of her is really making me hot for her.
Her raven hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, but some loose strands are falling free around her face, and her pale skin is red with fury as she stares at me with a look of pure hatred. If I were a weaker man, I might flinch from that look. But, I hold my ground. I'm not a man who is easily intimidated.
I've had worse looks from meaner people before – people I actually hate. People who would actually do me harm, given the chance. I know that whatever is bothering Paige, we can talk it out, work through it, and make everything okay again.