Chapter 150: What the hell are you doing?

Ivy

The doors burst open, and the first thing I registered was the screaming.

"Ivyyyyy!"

A whirlwind of perfume and a shrieking, delighted laugh came straight at me across the office. Before I could so much as get my bearings, Irene Fitzgerald had her arms around my neck and was squeezing the life out of me.

"Oh my god, oh my god, look at you! Look at your hair! Look at the office! I missed you so much I could actually die!"

Behind her, Jenny hovered in the doorway with her hands clasped and her face as white as snow.

"Miss Kingsley, I’m so sorry. I told them to wait, and then she came in." She gulped when Duke came up behind her, her eyes wide with terror.

"It’s okay, Jenny, thank you." My assistant disappeared immediately, leaving Duke standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest, blocking the whole frame, flat and immovable as a wall. Black shirt, black jacket, black everything. He and Gideon ought to be twins.

I flushed as disappointment settled in my stomach. When Jenny called, I had actually dared to hope it was one of the Knights. But that was just silly.

"Irene." I peeled her arms off me gently. "How did you get up here?"

"Him," she said, jabbing a thumb back at Duke.

Her hands clasped together and she wiggled her brows at me. "So... you’re Harper Kingsley."

"I’m Harper Kingsley," I replied dumbly, unsure of what to say or how to explain myself. How much did Irene know? Had the Knights told her everything?

"You lied to me." She pouted.

"I’m sorry," I muttered, suddenly feeling small and dirty. A dirty liar. "It wasn’t personal."

"It was a little personal." She planted her hands on her hips. "I thought we would be besties. We shopped together. Girl, you were so good at it. I would never have guessed. Even when Duke here said you seemed off, I said he was being paranoid, because you were the nicest person in that whole house."

"He said I seemed off?" I glanced at him, but his eyes were solely fixed on Irene.

"He says that about everyone." Irene waved him off. "It’s his thing. Anyway." She folded her arms and tilted her chin up. "I have decided I am still mad at you."

Of course she was. I would be mad at me too. "I understand."

"Deeply mad. I could be mad forever!"

My heart clenched painfully. "I understand, Irene. I’m really sorry."

"Unless," she said, holding up one finger. "You do something for me."

"What?" I asked earnestly, taking her hand.

"Anything?"

"Anything." I nodded, and she beamed, her eyes lighting up.

"You better not go back on your word! Just one thing, and I’ll forgive you completely, all of it, the whole lie, the whole housekeeper thing."

I couldn’t help it. I laughed, and it came out of me all rusty, maybe because I hadn’t laughed properly in weeks. "Irene. What’s the thing?"

She leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. "Have lunch with me."

A puzzled frown nestled between my brows. "That’s it?"

"That’s it! That’s the whole thing. You’re having lunch with me, and you’re telling me everything, or at least all the good parts. Then we’re even, and I never bring it up again. Deal?"

My eyes softened. I had never had a friend or anyone like Irene.

"Deal." I glanced at the clock. "But I need an hour. I’ve got work to wrap up."

"An hour, ugh, fine." She was already backing toward the door, dragging a reluctant Duke by the sleeve of his jacket. "I’ll be across the street! There’s a plaza with those little tables, you know the one? The one with the fountain? I’ll be there. Don’t be late, Vivi."

A shudder wracked through my body at the nickname, flashes of Roman calling me that filling my head. I shook my head, watching the space where Irene and Duke had been, fighting the tears that burned the corners of my eyes.

Until she showed up, I hadn’t realized just how alone and lonely I was.

I gathered the files from the corner of my desk and headed out of the office. I had to turn these in to Anthony anyway for his signature.

His office was one floor above mine, on the nineteenth, down the far end of the corridor. His secretary was a young, anxious woman named Petra.

"Miss Kingsley. He stepped out, oh, ten minutes ago. He shouldn’t be long."

"That’s alright." I lifted the file. "I’ll just drop these on his desk. Tell him I came by?"

"Of course, miss."

I walked into his office to drop the files by his desk when my gaze fell on his computer. A thought dropped into my mind. I glanced at the door and then at his computer again.

"I shouldn’t snoop," I mumbled, glancing at the door. Petra’s keyboard was still clicking outside, so I told myself I could say I was waiting for him, moved closer to his computer and turned it on.

The files I couldn’t access, I was sure he would be able to access. After all, he was the only man my father trusted. I doubted my father would block Anthony from these files.

I sat down in his chair and tried to log into the company’s database.

"Ah crap, what’s the password?" The username was already filled in. I tried the obvious first. Braddock.

"Nope. Anthony?" My fingers danced all over the keyboard. "Welp, nope. ABraddock1?"

It didn’t work. The little invalid password line blinked at me. I tried Angel’s name next, and when it didn’t work, I shoved away, ready to give up, when an idea dropped into my head.

"This better work," I grumbled, typing in Angel’s middle name.

And guess what?

It opened right up. "Anthony’s such a sentimental old man," I mumbled, feeling a bit jealous of that bastard of a son.

His father loved him to hell. My father kept pushing me beyond my limits while Anthony just spoiled his only son with everything. It was so unfair.

I clicked into the shared drive and started down the same path I had followed in my own office hours ago.

I had just opened the first of the files when the door to the office swung wide open.

"Shi..."

"What the hell are you doing in my dad’s office?"