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Authors: Prescott Lane

Quiet Angel (26 page)

BOOK: Quiet Angel
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“You are not my sister today!” Gage hollered. “You are just another employee who fucked up.”

“This is not my fault!” Emerson shouted back.

“You are in charge of PR, Emerson! You are in charge of what’s in the papers and on the news! How is this not your responsibility?”

“I did my job! This is totally out of my control.”

“Maybe if you spent less time at home crying about your divorce, you’d do a better job here at work!”

Layla winced, wanting to reach through the door and kick Gage in the balls. She hoped Emerson kicked him herself.

“Go to hell, Gage!” Emerson barked.


You
messed this up, Emerson. Did it ever occur to you Layla might have things going on, things she doesn’t want reported?”

“I’m frankly not thinking about Layla when I do my job, Gage. I’m thinking about the company! This company is just as important to me as it is to you!”

“The
company
? I’m concerned about Layla right now! Her life is now on full display! I have crazies emailing my corporate address asking for her autograph, a picture, a lock of her hair! Do you think I want perverts emailing me at work, obsessed with my wife?”

“Gage, I really think you’re overreacting. Layla’s strong. We can get her security if we need to. But I think she’ll be fine. She can handle the attention.”

“Emerson,” he said quietly, “you really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Want to tell me?”

The question hung in the air. Layla’s whole body shivered. She thought to barge in the boardroom but knew Gage would keep his mouth shut.

“Never,” he answered. “I just can’t deal with this—on top of trying to run the company.”

“Then maybe you should consider one of the dozen offers you’ve had to sell it,” Emerson said. “Can’t run for office and run Southern Wings.”

He shook his head and pulled at his hair. “This is just one big cluster fuck. Everything’s out of control. Emerson, you’re fired.”

Layla gasped and burst inside, her eyes on fire, like a laser on Gage. He opened his mouth to speak, but she raised her hand that he better not. She put an arm around Emerson. “Take it back and apologize.”

“What? Were you listening out there?”

“Take it back and apologize.”

“Her job is to control this stuff, and she didn’t do her job.”

“You’re not being fair. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“I need someone who can handle these things, someone who’s focused.”

“Gage, I really don’t like you right now. Don’t you think she’s been through enough?”

Emerson wiped a tear from her eyes. “It’s fine, Layla.” She started to leave, but a knock on the boardroom door kept her inside.

Mary peeked her head in. “Mr. Montgomery, I’m sorry to interrupt, but your mother is on the line. It’s the fifth time she’s called in the last 10 minutes.”

Gage pinched the bridge of his nose, another emotional woman in the mix. “This can’t be happening,” he muttered a few times.

“I’m sure she’s seen the paper or turned on the news,” Emerson said.

“Would you like me to say something to her, or should I put her through to you?” Mary asked. “Otherwise, I believe she’ll just keep calling.”

Emerson looked at her brother, talking to himself, scrunching his face. “You know, Gage, I could handle Mom—that is, if I still worked here.”

“What?” Mary cried. “What happened?”

“Gage just fired me,” Emerson said.

“For what?” Mary asked, staring daggers at her boss. “What did you do?”

Gage shook his head. “No, no, no, it was just a misunderstanding. . . .” he said then stopped, surveying the three women before him. He couldn’t bullshit his way out of this. He was no match for them. He’d been an asshole—he knew it—and lashed out. He loved his sister. The last thing he wanted to do was mess up her life even more. And the thought of calling his mother to explain the recent headlines and to say he’d just fired her daughter was too much to bear. “Call her.”

Emerson adjusted her glasses. “I’ll need an apology and some manners.”

Gage rolled his eyes then looked at Layla, a tight-lipped grin on her face. “I’m sorry, Emerson, for what I said. Can you please handle Mom?”

“Sure,” Emerson said.

“And thank you for bringing Layla here.”

Emerson left with a spring in her step, giving Layla a wink along the way, with Mary following behind. Gage pulled Layla into a hug. “I’m sorry I lost my mind a little.”


A little
?”

“OK, a lot. Everything’s just happening too fast,” he said and began to pace.

“What’s going on? Who leaked this?”

“I’m trying to find out. These stories—as positive as they are now—are like a warning shot from them, that they’ll one day use you to get to me.”

“Who’s
they
?”

“I’m going to find out.”

“Aren’t you being a little paranoid?”

“No. Where you’re concerned, I can’t be careful enough.”

“Do you know anything?”

“I’ve made a few calls and am waiting to hear back. But my main focus has been you, getting you here, making sure you’re OK.” Gage sunk down in a chair.

Layla walked up behind him and massaged his shoulders. “I need to go back to Savannah tonight.”

“No, not tonight. I need a few more days to. . . .”

“There’s some stuff going on with Poppy.”

“I need you to spend the week here.”

“I can’t. Poppy can’t pay her share of the rent, and I can’t cover the whole thing. It looks like we have to close Story Wings.”

“I’ll buy the building,” Gage said.

“That’s sweet, but no.”

“I’ll cover Poppy’s share.”

“It just won’t be the same without her. We built that place together. I don’t want to do it alone or with someone else.”

Gage offered another option but treaded lightly. “I guess that frees you up to move to Atlanta. You could start a new career here.”

“I don’t know what I want to do. The store was always my dream.”

“What’s Poppy going to do?” he asked.

“She doesn’t know. The money from selling will buy her a little time.”

Gage nodded. “Give me tonight and tomorrow. I’ll fly back with you tomorrow night.” Layla stopped the massage, and he looked up at her behind him. “That’s the best offer I got, Angel.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Layla had no
idea what she was doing in Atlanta. She’d spent the entire afternoon trapped in Gage’s office, worrying about the media down below and what they had in store for her. If she didn’t get out soon, she’d have to steal one of Emerson’s bottles of whiskey. She needed a distraction. Her mind raced about whether to move to Atlanta. Now that she’d have to sell her store, there was really no reason she couldn’t. She hated to leave her little house in Savannah. She loved it there. She’d made her home there. But she knew it was time to make a new one with Gage.

She moved to his lap. “I’ve been thinking. With the store closing, I think it’s best to move here with you. I don’t want you commuting everyday.”

“If that’s what you want, then great. What about your house?”

“I guess I’ll sell it.”

“Are you sure? You love that house. You love Savannah.”

“I’m sure.”

He smiled and kissed her lips. “OK. Do you want to open a new store here? I can help you.”

“I’m counting on being the First Lady of Georgia,” she joked.

He laughed. “That could be good, or I could knock you up? Then you’d have a lot to do.”

“We said we’d wait a little while,” she said.

Mary came over the intercom. “Mr. Montgomery, everything has been arranged.”

“Thank you,” he said and looked at his watch.

“What’s been
arranged
?” Layla asked.

“A surprise for you,” Gage said.


For me
? Haven’t we had enough surprises already today?”

“This is a good one,” he said. “We just have to get out of the building.”

*

Mary arranged for
a car to pick them up from the parking garage and slip out a secure side exit away from the throngs of media. She instructed the driver he wouldn’t be taking Gage and Layla very far. But despite the careful planning, when the car came out, a few reporters signaled Gage and Layla were likely in it. Other reporters soon swarmed the car, all of them following closely behind, moving in and out of traffic, some on foot, others in vans, taking pictures, waving for the car to stop. The driver made the few blocks and pulled in front of Gage’s sleek glass building.

“We’re going to your place?” Layla asked.

“Not exactly,” he said. “Now, when we get out, don’t say a word. Just hold my hand. You’ll remember it’s just a few steps to the door. The doorman will be waiting for us. He knows we’re coming. We’ll get inside, and he’ll keep these assholes out. OK?” The driver opened their door, and Gage and Layla got out amidst camera lights popping and reporters shouting questions.

“Will you wait and have the wedding in the Governor’s Mansion?” one reporter asked.

“Are you two living together here, Mr. Montgomery?” another reporter wondered.

“Miss Tanner, Mr. Montgomery has made sexual abuse charities one of his top priorities. Will you continue that work during the campaign and as First Lady of Georgia?” another reporter asked, sticking the microphone in Layla’s face.

Gage put his arm in front of Layla and forced the microphone back. “Hey, give my lady some space.”

They reached the front entrance, and the doorman pulled them inside, locking the door, keeping the animals outside. “Is everything ready?” Gage asked him, as Layla headed towards the elevator.

“Yes, sir,” the doorman said.

Gage captured her hand. “We aren’t going up.” He turned to the doorman. “We’ll have complete privacy, right?”

“Yes, sir. No windows.”

“Gage, why do we need privacy?” she asked.

He smiled. “You’ll see.”

“This way, ma’am.” The doorman led them down a hallway.

“Gage, tell me what’s going on,” she said.

He shook his head and smiled. “It’s more fun to keep you in the dark.”

She smirked at him, whispering, “At least I’m not blindfolded this time, although that could be fun.”

“It could be,” he whispered back, “and we better find time soon, blindfolded or not!”

The doorman took them to a set of double doors. As he unlocked them, Gage lifted her hand to his lips, and her dimples popped out. The doors opened wide, and Layla’s mouth hit the floor, looking into a conference room holding a sea of white gowns and bridesmaid dresses. The doorman closed the doors behind them and disappeared.

A bridal consultant dressed in black approached them. “Mr. Montgomery, we’ve been expecting you.”

Gage nudged Layla forward, and the woman stuck out her hand. “I assume you’re the bride, Miss Tanner.”

“Layla,” she said. “Gage, we’re dress shopping? Now? After today?”

“I know it was on your ‘to do’ list.”

“Only have a month, sweetie,” the consultant said.

“Less than that,” he said and kissed Layla on top of the head. “I’ll pick you up in a few hours.”

“Wait!” Layla cried. “You aren’t staying?”

“I thought that was bad luck or something,” he said.

“I don’t care about that.”

Gage cupped her cheeks. “Well, you don’t need my opinion. You’ll have plenty.”

Another door opened, and Ava ran into Layla’s arms. “Uncle G flew us in on the corporate jet!”


Us
?”

Emerson, Helen, and Poppy walked inside. Layla greeted them with tears flowing down her cheeks. She looked back at Gage. “With everything going on today, you arranged this? You had all these dresses sent here?”

He wiped her tears away. “I’m not going to let anything get in the way of us—our plans, our future.”

Ava took her hand. “Aunt Layla, I found the most perfect bridesmaid dress! It’s strapless and flowing, and it comes in lavender. Mom said I could try it on if you liked it. Oh, I hope you like it, but if not, there’s this other one that’s a little short. Mom thinks it will be too tight, but I like it.”

“Ava?” Emerson said, laughing. “Layla is here to look for dresses for her, not anyone else.”

“Nonsense,” Layla said. “Ava, show me your picks first.”

*

BOOK: Quiet Angel
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