Home > His Call (Call #2.5)(12)

His Call (Call #2.5)(12)
Author: Emma Hart

“Excellent,” I mutter, taking my pen back from her. I turn to the lawyer. “And the other?”

He hands me the business contracts wordlessly. I have no need to read these. I’ve read them more times than my divorce papers, and I know that my father and Mr. Carlisle have already signed them because I asked them to in advance.

Naomi stands as I flick through another set of marked pages and I hold my finger up, indicating she should wait. I hear her heavy sigh as she does and continue my signatures on the hefty contract. When I reach the end, I close the file and set the pen on top.

My eyes meet Naomi’s as I stand. Silence weighs heavily in the room, anticipation and curiousness threading through it as my family and our legal representative look on.

“Yes?” Naomi responds in a bored tone.

I adjust my cuff link, breaking our eye contact for a moment before I find her gaze once more. I have to control my smirk as the words roll off my tongue.

“I’m afraid your modeling services are no longer required at the Stone Agency. Your agent is aware and in full agreement, and you may stop by her office on your way out to collect any details she may have and any possible future contracts should you decide to pursue a new agent outside of the company.”

Her mouth opens and closes several times until she resembles a fish. She straightens in her heels and looks at me furiously. “You’re firing me?”

“Firing you, letting you go… Call it what you will, Ms. Lane, but we will no longer be representing you.”

“You can’t do that! This is unfair dismissal.”

I rest my hands on the large antique desk in front of me and meet her eyes so she knows I’m being serious. “You haven’t signed a major contract in fifteen months, and since then, you’ve had less than ten jobs of any caliber. I’m letting you go on account of my belief that your time in this industry is coming to an end, and your former agent agrees with me, as do the director and manager of the agency. If you care to dispute our reasoning, then you are more than welcome. Until then, we’re done here. You know the way out.”

I sit down, tearing my eyes from hers and ignoring the harsh bark of laughter from my cousin. Naomi lingers for a moment, her eyes flicking over everyone in the room, then turns and leaves. The door slams behind her, and I finally give in to the twitch of my lips.

“Well, that’s soothed the sting a little,” Mom remarks casually. “Nothing like some early morning entertainment, especially when she is the victim.” She pats me on the shoulder.

“Was all that true?” Mr. Carlisle questions me. “If not, she can take you to court.”

“It’s true,” Dad clarifies. “I’ve been considering terminating her contract for a couple of months now, but in light of recent events, I decided I would let Aaron do the honors.”

“If you believe she’ll contest our claims, I’ll have the agency staff send you a full list of her contracts from the last two years,” I offer Mr. Carlisle. “I’d rather we cover all bases. She can be vindictive.”

Tyler snorts behind me but keeps his words to himself.

“Yes, best you do.” Mr. Carlisle stands and puts the files in his briefcase. “I will see to it that these find their rightful homes and that copies are returned to you, Mr. Stone. Junior,” he adds as an afterthought.

I smile and stand to shake his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Carlisle. You’ve been incredibly helpful.”

“Just doing my job.” He turns to my father, shakes his hand, and subsequently kisses my mother’s cheek before leaving.

I sit down for a second time and exhale deeply. This business now belongs to me, and Naomi is no longer a thorn in my side. Now all that’s left to do is—

“When are you going to get her?” Tyler asks.

“Tomorrow.”

The One Where He Finds Her At The Club

Light rain beats against the windows of my Seattle apartment. I stand in the front room, against the ceiling-high windows, and look out at the city.

I’ve been here so many times, and every time, I’ve looked and wondered where she was. Seven weeks ago, I got my answer. She was standing in front of me in a hotel looking so f**king beautiful that it hurt.

I vowed, there and then, that I’d never let her go again. That the only time I’d see her waking away from me would be because she’d be walking into the bedroom, ready for me to follow her. Or perhaps into the kitchen wearing nothing but my shirt, ready to make coffee.

I broke my promise to myself and my promise to her, but now, I’m determined to make it right again.

No matter how hard it is. I need my woman back in my life, and this time, I need her to stay.

My cell buzzes with a message from Tyler telling me that he’s back in London and he thinks there’s a possibility that the woman he f**ked last night works for me. Fantastic. Not that I’m surprised any. While I spent my teen years pushing my father to teach me everything he knows about running a business, Tyler was gaining enough experience with girls to manage a  p**n  company and give the girls real orgasms to boot.

I drop it on the bar in my kitchen and pour some whisky in a glass, barely glancing at the measurement. It burns my throat as it goes down, but it’s a welcome burn, and the subsequent warmth spreads through my body.

To know that Dayton is here, in this city, is making my body hum with anticipation and fear. I know she’s here, just not where… If she’s working or not.

Fuck. If she’s working. I don’t believe it, not in my heart, but the chill she looked at me with in Paris when she informed me that I was just her client is enough to make me doubt it. If she can be so impersonal and emotionally blank standing right in front of me, surely she can do it without me being around.

My cell buzzes again, and I look at the ceiling. If that’s Tyler…

She’s in Vibe.

I stare at Uncle Ted’s text. We own a handful of bars and clubs together, mainly in Seattle, but I leave the running of them to him while my aunt manages the restaurant side. The nightlife has never really been my thing, but the business opportunity came up. Working with my uncle was a no-brainer, even five years ago.

And now I know where she is. In the first bar we bought together, the one that doubles as a nightclub. Vibe Bar. The one a block away from my apartment.

I run my fingers through my hair. The temptation to go down there and see her, even if we don’t talk, is so strong. It would take me a minute to get there.

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