“Good, good. This is William Ashford. He’s invested in the company and will be around a lot more, as will Willow.” Andy isn’t dressed to the nines like Ashford. He’s in a polo and a pair of slacks.
“His daughter,” Willow interjects. “I’ll be working in the office a few days a week.” Not sure why my stomach settles, and it’s not something I’m going to touch on right now, either.
“Jace, it’s good to meet you. I heard you’ve been a valuable source in the midst of everything. It’s appreciated.” When Ashford extends his hand, I shake it. His squeeze is light, lighter than any man’s should, and now I’ve got a shit ton of thoughts to unpack.
“Not a problem.” I knew something was happening behind the scenes. Didn’t think it’d be a new partner or that it’d come with a woman who’s my boss’ daughter.
“I’m going to finish showing them around. Meet me in my office before you leave for the day,” Andy states more than asks. Jesus fuck, as if I haven’t been here enough. Now I’m gonna have to deal with a meeting on top of all the other bullshit.
“Will do.” The trio leaves the room, as does another person. No idea who the guy is. All I know is he’s got his nose stuck in a tablet and is following them around like a lost damn puppy.
“It’s hotter than a hooker’s doorknob on payday,” Toren says when the area is clear. My back is to him, too lost in thought about the woman who’s got my dick in knots.
“No shit, and it’s only gonna get hotter.”
“Can feel it, man. You better be careful with that one. Shit could get dicey.” I don’t elaborate on what I’m talking about. Toren can fill in the gaps, and while I should heed his warning, I’d rather dance with the devil any day of the week than play it safe.
What I do know is Willow Ashford is going to be trouble, the good kind.
And I already know walking away from her is going to be impossible.
1
Willow
Present Day
“Willow,” I hear my father say my name in a discerning manner. I’d roll my eyes, except I’d be lectured about being thirty-three years old, and a woman like me shouldn’t do childish things like that.
“Father,” I reply, looking up from the numbers on the spreadsheets I’ve been working on ever since my father abruptly appointed me to be an accountant for Industrial Steel.
I knew there’d be no stopping William Ashford II.
While most girls are the apple of daddy’s eye, I’m more of an afterthought. He wanted a son, and he got me instead, a girl who can’t be handed down a family name. Why I continue to stay isn’t as easy as one would think. Then again, when it comes to family, it never is.
“Did you figure it out?” Sometimes I hate being entirely too good at my job.
“I will by the end of the day.” If he’d quit coming in and out of my makeshift office. Every day since we’ve been on the scene, he’s been in here asking me how things are going. Well, the truth would be: shitty, sucktastic, and a fucking nightmare. Words that dear old dad will never hear coming out of my mouth.
“It’s about time. I’m off to the country club,” he says with a twinkle in his eye. This, this right here is the reason I stay. I’d much rather move far away from my sleazeball of a father. Sadly, there’s one person holding me back, and that’s my grandmother. She’s the warmth to his cold, the love to his disdain, and if it weren’t for her health battles, I’d have dipped out a long time ago. As it stands, I know it won’t be much longer until she says her final goodbyes, a thought I’m not prepared to face or think about.
“Okay, I still have a couple of hours left here. Give Mom my love.” I’m not particularly close to her, either. That probably has a lot to do with her penchant for bottles of wine. The more expensive, the better. I didn’t win the parental lottery. I won a grandmother who is worth every last dollar in my bank account, though. My mother’s mother is the epitome of loving, caring, and everything in between. Her husband, my grandfather, passed away ten years ago, and ever since, she hasn’t been the same.
“She won’t be there.” Of course, Victoria Ashford won’t be there. It’s later in the day, and I’m sure she’s a bottle or two of wine deep. The reason she’s this way is because of the man standing in front of me. He’s always screwed around on my mom, married her, got her pregnant, and then it really ramped up, at least according to the rumors I’d heard quietly whispered around the house. It wasn’t until I walked in on him with his secretary that I witnessed it with my own eyes.
In our home.
Needless to say, whatever relationship I did have with my father vanished, right along with my innocence, at the age of thirteen. When he was finished doing, and bydoingI mean doing his then flavor of the month, on his desk, I was given a talk, one where he told me to keep my mouth shut, or else I’d be moved into a boarding school far away. I didn’t realize it wasonly a threat until I’d graduated high school. In one of Mom’s many stupors, she admitted a few things. One of those included that her parents still held the majority of the purse strings, and that included on what to spend on their only grandchild.
I went off to college and earned the degree I’d wanted, working with numbers and learning as much about managing money as well as minoring in business management. My grandfather drilled it into my head the last few years of his life as well as while growing up to never depend on a man.
Things changed when he passed away. Life got harder, grandmother’s health started to decline, and my father got more vindictive. My mother also became even more of an alcoholic than she already was. I don’t know why my grandparents didn’t put certain plans in place, you know, like making me the person responsible for their trust. It’s in my parents’ name, and Dad has basically taken it over.
“Well, have a good night, then.” My attempt at shutting this conversation down and getting him out of my office isn’t going as I hoped.
“Oh, I will. Also, brunch this Sunday at the house. Your presence is required.” My stomach sinks to my feet, not only because this is his subtle way of saying he’s meeting someone at the club. It can’t be his secretary. Mason isn’t his type, unless things have changed. And that’s enough of those thoughts. I don’t care about anyone’s preference in sexual nature. What I care about is my father ruining a good person, and Mason is the best on and off the clock.
“What time?” I ask, even though I’m sure he or my mother will call me, but why bother when I can get it directly from the source?
