I turn away from him.
“This won’t be tolerated.”
Jack’s voice makes me stop in my tracks. “Thatcher is waiting for you in the office. The prisoner will be taken care of.”
I look over at him and frown. “Fine.”
I storm past him and toward my office. The door is propped open, and Thatcher Thayer is sitting by the fire, his features illuminated in the crackling embers. He does nothing to acknowledge my presence other than offer a brief head tilt.
I let the door close behind me and stride over to the desk. “I’m sure you’ve heard what happened tonight. In light of recent events, we’re going to need to renegotiate the number of men stationed at the warehouses.”
Thatcher eyes me over the rim of his drink. “I want something in return.”
I step behind the desk and reach for the decanter. “Naturally.”
He rises to his feet, the streaks of silver in his dark hair glistening in the firelight. He covers the distance between us and sets his glass on the table. Then, he strokes his chin thoughtfully.
“The tabloids can’t get enough of you and my daughter. They’re calling you a power couple. Interest in our brand has gone up. We need to keep the momentum going.”
“You want me to attend more events?”
“I want a lavish engagement,” Thatcher replies, his eyes glittering. “I want anyone who’s someone to be on the guest list. You will be by my daughter’s side the whole night, and you will make everyone in that room envious.”
I study him intently and press my lips together.
It’s not an unreasonable ask, but the thought of spending a night glued to Elise’s side doesn’t sit well with me.
Not when I know London will be watching.
It’s bad enough that her life is in danger, and now she has to watch me fawn all over another woman in public.
Fuck me.
“Your specialfriendshouldn’t be anywhere near the festivities,” Thatcher adds. “I’m sure you can understand why it would be better if we keep the focus elsewhere.”
“Of course.”
He smiles. “We have an understanding, then?”
I set down my drink and straightened my back. “As soon as your men are in position, I’ll make the arrangements.”
“You and Elise,” Thatcher says. “My daughter has impeccable taste, and it must be worthy of the Thayer name.”
I ignore the pounding in my head and nod.
Thatcher says something else, but I don’t hear him.
For half an hour, he launches into great detail about the guest list and curating the kind of event people will talk about for days, but all I can think about is London.
Will putting a label on my relationship with Elise be the thing that pushes her away for good?
I’m on my third drink when Thatcher’s phone rings. He takes it out of his pocket. “I’ll tell Elise the good news. I’ll see to it that she stops by tomorrow, so you can get started.”
I set the drink down. “And the men?”
“I’ll make the phone calls. You’ll have the reinforcements you need,” Thatcher replies. “I look forward to our continued partnership. I can already tell we’ll do many great things.”
With one last cryptic smile in my direction, Thatcher Thayer saunters off.
