Page 131 of Illicit Education
I cringed. “Not very well, I’m afraid.”
His lips twitched. “Come along then.”
When we reached Reed Tower, he stopped just shy of the entrance, then slipped his hand into mine and wove our fingers together. He looked down into my eyes, and I nodded.
“Verbal confirmation, Ms. Blake.”
I leaned forward and pressed my nose against his suit jacket, took a deep breath, then straightened and said, “I’m ready now.”
He shook his head. “You’re so weird.”
The Smirker was back. And he was all mine.
We strode into the lobby together and were instantly swarmed by reporters and photographers, but Reed Publishing’s lawyers had hired extra security and they escorted us quickly through the crowd to the podium set up at the base of the tree.
It was smart, positioning Cabot there, standing at the base of his mother’s creative vision. It reminded people of the family behind the empire, behind the company. The family who loved reading so much that they built this kingdom that had helped countless authors bring their dreams to fruition. A family that loved reading so much that they built this sanctuary at the base of Reed Tower, a safe place for children of all ages to read and dream.
As he spoke into the microphone, a speech I’d heard multiple times on Friday as his legal team curated it, and then again Saturday night and throughout yesterday as he rehearsed it, I watched him with a sense of wonder.
Just a few weeks ago, he’d been an intimidating, frustrating man.
I couldn’t pretend he wasn’t still both of those things, but he was so much more now.
His private life had been obliterated, but, instead of curling into a ball–which is what I wanted to do and probably would have done had I not had Cabot Reed by my side–he rose to the occasion.
I don’t know why I was surprised.
He spoke for five minutes, eloquent and composed. I might have fallen for him even harder during that time. “What we do in our private lives is no one’s business.” Cabot looked over at me and gave me the tiniest hint of a smile.
This was the end of the speech. As planned, he’d thank the paparazzi for showing up, then we’d leave together, a united front, return to the seventy-fifth floor, and try to move on with our lives.
But then his father stepped up onto the podium.
And my heart sank.
Cabot’s eyes met mine, confusion knitting his brows.
“Thank you, son.” He clapped Cabot on the back and stepped in front of the microphone. “But I think I’ll take it from here.”
The crowd cheered and reporters shouted countless questions at the elderly man, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread coming over me. He hadn’t returned a single one of his son’s calls all weekend. His presence here felt like a bomb about to explode.
“Like my son said, what he does in his private life is no one’s business.” He paused, searching the faces around me until his eyes landed on mine.
I swallowed hard, my skin crawling beneath the distaste in his gaze.
Then he flashed a saccharine smile and looked back out at the crowd. “As you all know, Reed Enterprises has always been afamilybusiness. What my wife and I started years ago….” He paused and placed his hand over his heart, looking up at the sky as he said, “God rest her soul.”
I flicked my gaze to Cabot still standing beside his father, but his expression was unreadable.
“What we started, just two young kids with an idea, has now blossomed into this conglomerate of success.” He motioned up to the branches of the tree and Reed Tower beyond. “We are the name you know and trust when it comes to book publishing, news reporting…”
My attention wandered as he continued listing all of the many aspects of Reed Enterprises. I focused on Cabot again, but his shoulders were set, tense. I wanted to go to him, but I didn’t dare move Something held my feet firmly in place.
Something felt off.
We’d had a plan, and his father hadn’t been a part of it.
His presence now, caused my nerves to be on high alert.