“You’re sure about this?” William’s jaw clenched and unclenched fitfully.
“I’m sure.”
“Why are you so sure?” William held up a hand to stop the bitter tirade I was about to unleash. “Look, I believe you. But if he is an abusive prick, there’s no way we are keeping him as a client. I won’t represent someone like that. So when I tear up our agreement, I need to know we’re right about this.”
I took a deep breath, wondering if what I was about to confess to William would be better left unsaid. People looked at you differently when you told them you had been on the receiving end of a Senator Wilkinson. “You know I had a shitty ex-boyfriend. Paul? Lana told you that, right?”
William nodded stiffly, as if he could sense what I was about to say.
“We were together four years. I never saw it coming. You think there will be signs, you know? I always did anyway. I would hear these stories about women in these horrible relationships and I would think, you had to know he was like that. People don’t just change suddenly. But I was wrong. Sometimes they do change. Paul had never been violent. Never. But then one day, he got pissed and he beat the shit out of me. I left him immediately, but I couldn’t move on.” It had taken me six months to be able to walk down the street without looking over my shoulder. I stepped around the desk and moved closer to William, wanting him to feel what I felt.
“I started seeing this counselor. It helped. Just talking about it helped. And she recommended that I begin volunteering at this shelter for women and kids that are escaping abusive relationships. I’ve been helping out there on weekends ever since, so I know what a battered wife looks like. I know how they act, and how they try to hide it. I’ve watched footage of the Senator’s wife and I’ve seen her medical files. He beats the shit out of her. And apparently he also cheats on her. So yeah, I hate him.”
I had never seen anger like I saw in William’s eyes right then. “I’ll kill him.”
“The Senator?”
“Paul. If I ever see him, if he ever comes around you again, I will kill him.” William’s hands were clenched into tight fists.
I had promised myself I would stay away from William. We would work together, and that would be it. Nothing else. But we were both worked up now, and I didn’t want to see that anger in William’s eyes anymore. I let my hands rest on his fists until he relaxed them, and then I slipped my hands inside. “Don’t say that, William. Don’t be like him. You’re a better man than him.”
William pulled his hands away. “I’m wouldn’t be too sure of that. You barely know me, Livy.”
“I know you well enough.” But the words rang false even to my ears. I had known William less than two weeks. I had known Paul for four years and had still missed such a huge part of his character. Maybe William really wasn’t the man I thought he was. But some part of me just couldn’t believe that could be true. I wanted to believe in William because I needed to be able to trust someone again. That’s when I finally admitted to myself that I needed William.
“We can finish this in the morning,” William said. He opened the door to my office. “You should go home. It’s late.”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t move. I could barely speak. I had finally admitted to myself that I wanted to be with William, and he was finally letting me go.
“Will you be attending the holiday party tomorrow night?” William asked, very formally.
“I’ll be there.” The words came out strained.
“Good.” William nodded. “I will see you tomorrow.”
As hard as it was to sit in the same room with William the next day, it was even more impossible for me to imagine not seeing him at all. William Connor had gotten under my skin.
He looked strong and confident when he told Senator Wilkinson that, sadly, Gravity, Inc. would not be able to help him with his current situation. The other members of Gravity’s executive board were not happy with the decision and made their feelings known the minute the Senator was gone. In addition to paying well, Senator Wilkinson’s name was likely to draw a lot of attention to the company. They didn’t care that Wilkinson was a philanderer; it was par for the course in this line of work. William hadn’t told them what I had said the night before about the Senator’s wife. He was keeping that information between us.
“Steve, I get that you are mad. But this is my company. My decision is the final decision.” William didn’t raise his voice or pound his fists on the conference room table. He had a way of exerting the power of his position without making other people feel small. “You’ll just have to trust me on this one.”