“I think I can keep her occupied.”
I growl. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I end the call and shove up to my feet, turning to leave my office and storm to my room to change, when I see Cassius from the corner of my eye. I pause and turn toward him.
“Do you want to come with me?”
“With you?”
“To the office. I have some business to attend to. I mean, as long as you aren’t busy. Your time ends in—”
“I’d love to.” He hops up from his chair and is at my side.
Nodding, I tell him to meet me in the front foyer. I hurry upstairs to change and refuse to think about why I asked him to come with me.
I make it to the office in thirty-one minutes, hoping like hell that Oliver was able to work his magic.
"Miss Russo,” I greet as I walk into smallest conference room on this floor. It’s more intimate, for small meetings, since I don’t like people in my office.
Diamond Russo looks exactly as you’d expect her to. Like she puts too much money into looking younger than she is. Blonde hair. Flawless skin. Too-full lips, and perfect makeup.
Her gaze goes to me, then to Cassius behind me.
“Is your son the reason you’re late?” she asks cockily.
From the corner of my eye, I see Cassius’s jaw drop. Maybe bringing him here wasn’t a good idea after all.
“Cassius is an associate, not my son,” I say, tugging on my tie. “Oliver, please show him where he can wait for me.”
“Of course, sir.”
Oliver gets up from the chair at the table and ushers Cassius out the door. I’m not sure what I was thinking, bringing him here, only that I wasn’t ready to let him go yet.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask. “Coffee or—”
“You can tell me what the hell is going on with this new watch. I’m hearing a lot of things that aren’t looking good for you, Harmon.”
“We put out a statement to all of our investors,” I say calmly, pulling out the chair to sit.
She scoffs. “You know I hate those cookie-cutter letters, Harmon. Where’s the personal touch?”
I watch her, waiting to see if she’s going to make a move and tell me what the problem is. When she says nothing, I speak.
“How about you tell me your concerns so we can work this out.”
“My concern is that each day that passes, I’m more certain that you’re the one who stole the design.”
I grit my teeth, take a slow breath, then let it out.
Control is power.
Anger is weak.
“I assure you the design was stolen from us, and we’ve already taken legal steps to prove as much. What is put out into the media is horse shit, and you know it. So why don’t you tell me why you’re really here, hm?”
“I don’t like the way this looks or the way it’s makingmelook. My company is not happy with this.”
“You think I’m happy with it? I’m handling it. You know legal things take time. What more do you want me to do?”