Page 198 of By His Vow
Guilt knots up my insides that I haven’t been a better sister. I’m not the only one who’s had their world thrown into chaos.
“Things will get better,” I assure her.
“Everyone is worried about this merger,” she confesses.
“It’ll be okay. Kingston and Miles won’t do anything stupid.”
“I trust them. But a lot of people only know Kingston as the cut-throat COO at Callahan.”
“No one is going to lose their jobs because of this.” It’s not my place to promise anything. I’m merely one of the employees at Warner Group. Hell, my job could be on the line just as much as anyone else.
“Everything will work out as it should,” Judith says with a smile. “He’ll be pleased to see you,” she adds, her eyes drifting down the hallway toward where my brother is hiding out.
“He still hasn’t moved into Dad’s office?”
She shakes her head. “All the adjustments will take time,” she whispers.
I guess it’s easy to forget that Miles didn’t have the same kind of relationship with our father as I did.
I take a step back and look over my shoulder, wishing there was something I could do to make all of this easier on everyone.
“Enjoy your evening,” I say as I continue retreating.
“You too, sweetie. Get some rest, yes?”
“You got it.”
I let out a long sigh as I stand before Miles’s office door.
I know he can do this. Both he and Kingston are more than capable of taking over this business. I just wish he didn’t have to do it so suddenly, without our father here to lean on when he needed it.
Sure, he has Michael, but it’s not the same as the man who has lived everything Warner Group since the day he was born.
Miles wants to make our father, grandfather, and those who came before them proud. And he will—I have every confidence in him.
Lifting my hand, I knock three times and wait for him to call me in.
Pushing the door open, I poke my head inside the darkened room.
“Hey, it’s only me.”
It takes a couple of seconds for Miles to pull his eyes from his computer in favor of me, and the second I look into them, I gasp in shock.
I’ve never seen him so…stressed.
“Hey, stranger,” he says, forcing a smile onto his lips. “Come in.”
Closing the door behind me, I move toward his desk and take a seat.
“You want a drink?” he asks, pushing out of his chair and stalking toward his beverage cabinet.
I watch as he pulls out a bottle of whiskey and pours himself a generous measure.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” I had enough tequila last night to last me a good few days.
Lifting the glass, he swallows the contents without so much as a wince.
He immediately pours himself another. But this time, he doesn’t drink it straight away. Instead, he stares down into it like it might hold the answers to all his problems.