“Thank you.”
Coming from anyone else, I would have thought he was making a nice gesture. But I knew Elliot Levy better than that.
Why let me go out to pick up my own lunch when it was much more efficient to have it delivered with his?
Around midday, Luca Rossi arrived for his meeting with Elliot. As far as I knew, Luca and Weston were Elliot’s only friends. Both were CEOs of their own companies, and Weston was in a relationship with Elliot’s sister, Elise, while Luca had recently gotten married.
Luca nodded toward Elliot’s closed office door. “How’s he doing today?”
I placed my hands on my desk. “I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. Mr. Levy is always busy.”
Busy, abrupt, demanding, intolerable. I kept those adjectives between me and my postscripts.
Tapping the edge of my desk, he grinned. “I get it. I’ve known him since college. The guy never changes.”
Standing up, I turned toward Elliot’s office when Luca’s words stopped me in my tracks.
“Hey, congratulations.”
My brows rose, and I swiveled back around, momentarily confused. When his eyes landed on my stomach, I understood. “Oh. Thanks. I’m not used to people noticing yet. It only started happening this week.”
“I have a pregnant sister, so maybe I’m more attuned to it these days.”
This man really was charming and contrary to what I’d told Elliot, I wasn’t immune. It wasn’t that I wanted to jump his bones or anything—Luca was too slick and polished to be my type—but he had a way about him that made me comfortable. I shot him an easier smile. “Well, congratulations on becoming an uncle. I’ll let Mr. Levy know you’re here.”
My stomach churned, and it wasn’t due to Baby Girl this time. I had the distinct feeling my days of avoiding this conversation with Elliot were about to come to an end.
Chapter Four
Elliot
The old man in front of me had tears in his eyes.
It made me sick.
“You’re a bastard, you know that? An opportunistic bastard.” He swiped at his eyes with the cuff of his shirt. “Does it feel good to profit off my life’s work? Does it?”
I blinked at him, unimpressed by the show taking place in the lobby of LD’s newest acquisition and third-tallest skyscraper in Denver.
Donald Rockford was bad at business, and he was looking for someone to blame when he should have been looking at his own reflection.
It wasn’t my fault he’d ”bull in a china shopped” his way into the Denver market without seemingly doing any research.
Nor was I the one who’d advised him to contract with an overseas steel company currently under investigation for the quality of the product. This investigation was public record. Anyone worth their salt would have looked into it. But not Donald, who had been blustering his way through life for seventy years.
I would never have told him to take out a balloon loan he had no hope of repaying on time due to shoddy steel, hiring the wrong people, and vastly underestimating construction time. I most assuredly would not have advised him to use his own home and most of his other assets as a completion guarantee.
“There’s nothing personal happening here, Donald.” I tucked my hands in my pockets. Finished with this unwanted conversation. “As of noon yesterday, you no longer have any reason to be in this building. You’ll vacate the premises immediately, or I’ll notify my security you’re trespassing. Your choice.”
Tears flowed down his cheeks like Niagara Falls. It was the most embarrassing display of emotion I’d ever witnessed, especially considering he’d brought this on himself.
He should have known better.
“You’re going to get yours one day, Levy.” He ripped the handkerchief from his breast pocket and swiped at his face angrily. “You’ll lose something you poured your life into and no one will give a damn about you.”
“That’s the difference between you and me, Donald. If I choose to pour my life into something, I handle it with care.” I took out my phone. Scrolling through my emails. “You can leave now.”
He uttered a string of curse words at me then swung to the left. “You must be proud to work for a guy like this.”
I looked up sharply, displeased to find Donald’s attention on Catherine, who’d been silent at my side throughout the entire confrontation.
She offered him a soft smile. “Can I call a car for you, Mr. Rockford?”
His mouth fell open then slammed shut. She’d stumped him with her politeness, and I was quietly amused. Catherine had a way of handling the men I met with on a daily basis. Her manners never failed her, but she had a cutting edge beneath her soft outer layer.