But when I open the door, it’s not a benign new client I come face to face with.
Instead, the man standing there has a menacing scowl.
“What the fuck are you doing with my brother?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Leo
I stand there, stunned.
Vaughn.
For a second, all I can see are his similarities to Archie.
He’s got the same tousled dark-blond hair. The same straight nose and defined jawline. The same build, the same posture, although where Archie tends to lean into a room like he’s curious about it, Vaughn fills a doorway like he’s claiming territory.
But there is one major difference between them.
Archie’s eyes are normally sparkling with mischief, while Vaughn’s eyes are currently narrowed in suspicion.
We lock gazes, and neither of us blinks. I can feel eight years of swallowed anger pressing against the back of my teeth. From the look on Vaughn’s face, he’s swallowing something too.
“What are you doing here?” I manage to get out.
“I’ve come to find out what the fuck kind of games you’re playing with my kid brother.”
My heart pounds and my mind races.
Vaughn. Here. Now.
Of all the scenarios I’d imagined for this morning—making awkward client small talk, stale coffee, trying to resist checking my phone for texts from Archie—this wasn’t one of them.
“What makes you think I’m playing any kind of games with your brother?” I ask. I’m stalling for time, trying to get my head around how the hell to handle this.
“Don’t fuck around with me, Leo,” he growls.
He thrusts his phone in my face. On the screen is a picture on Elizabeth’s Instagram page. It’s the photo she took of us at the National Gallery. I’ve got my arm around Archie, and we’re both grinning broadly.
It almost hurts me to see how happy we both look.
Elizabeth posted it two days ago.
Vaughn must have seen it, and what? Flown straight over from San Francisco?
Vaughn’s face is still contorted in a scowl. “When I called her, Elizabeth gushed all about Archie’s new boyfriend Leo and how great he is.” He spits the words out.
My mind is racing. What can I do?
“Why don’t you come inside?” I say neutrally. I try to keep my pace steady as I walk back to the conference table and take a seat.
Vaughn steps inside, closing the door behind him, but he doesn’t sit.
The dynamic of him looming over me while I’m sitting down isn’t great, but it means I can discreetly take my phone from my pocket and quickly find the voice recorder app. I press record, leaving my hand gripped around my phone under the table.
“Why do you think I would target your brother?” I ask.
Vaughn sneers at me. “You know why.”
