The Will (Magdalene #1)(105)
Author: Kristen Ashley

He got that look when the person he was addressing annoyed him and he wanted them to know they mattered little to him, if anything at all.

However, that look had never, not once, been aimed at me.

“Henry,” I said, traversing the rough ground in Gran’s wellies to get closer to him. Once I did, I stopped on my side of the fence and held his eyes, my look for him doubtfully a mask. I didn’t care that he knew I was annoyed at him. “I’m uncertain I’m ready to speak with you.”

“I leave in the morning to get to Paris,” he replied. “Amond allowed a day’s delay in the shoot so I could come and spend some time with you. I don’t have more. We have to do this now or over the phone and I’d rather do it now.”

This explained Amond’s strange statements during our phone call. He knew Henry was coming.

He also knew I was going to watch men fighting and had guessed this was because those men were interested in me.

Thus, I was more than mildly annoyed that he didn’t warn me Henry was intending to pay a surprise visit.

However, I couldn’t think on that.

I could only think on the limited possibilities of what had to be said between Henry and me face to face.

“If you have something to say, Henry, then please say it. I have work to finish in the garden and then I need to get to the school and pick up Ethan. I’ve plans with a friend after that and I’m spending the evening with Jake and the kids. So I don’t have a great deal of time either.”

The mask slipped, only slightly but it did it before he said curtly, “Spending the evening with Jake and his kids.”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“Do you think perhaps that the local strip club owner knows your grandmother was a millionaire?” he asked and that wasn’t curt. It was borderline snide.

My back went up and my skin prickled.

“If you’re insinuating Jake’s interested in me only for Gran’s money, that’s both erroneous and insulting. And your spiteful tone in regards to Jake’s business concerns is offensive. He runs a very respectable club. Now, is that what you came here to say to me face to face?”

He ignored my question and asked, “Are there respectable strip clubs?”

“Jake’s is,” I returned. “Now, if this is what you wish to discuss, you made the journey to Lavender House in vain. I’ve no desire to talk about this.”

“That isn’t why I’m here.”

I said not a word but held his eyes.

His jaw clenched before he released it to announce, “I’ve spoken with Daniel. He’s phoned a company in LA who will be packing all your belongings in the pool house. These will be shipped to you express. You’ll have them by the end of the week at the latest. Daniel’s also agreed to come on board as my assistant officially. I’ll give you six month’s severance. This will be transferred into your account within two days. Your paperwork will arrive at Lavender House within that timeframe. You’ll need to sign it and return it at your earliest convenience.”

I felt not a small amount of pressure building in my head.

“So you’re sacking me because I’ve met a man,” I stated.

“I’m severing our professional relationship because it’s no longer constructive.”

“And it’s no longer constructive because you’re in love with me, never had the courage to do anything about it, I found a man I care about and you’re having a tantrum. And as you hold some power over me, the tantrum you’re having is negating my employment.”

His expression didn’t change. Not even a hint.

“You’re a millionaire, Josephine, and the severance package is fair.”

“I believe a severance package of a month’s wages for every year I’ve worked for you is more fair, Henry,” I returned, simply to be vexing mostly because he was vexing me.

“Then I’ll ask Daniel to change the amount and the wording in the paperwork,” Henry replied instantly.

That was when I felt the shot to the heart. The pierce of the arrow so excruciating it was a wonder I didn’t stagger back.

Wounded pride. Again.

But this time, the return arrow was directed at me.

“And this is it?” I asked.

“This is it,” he confirmed.

“Twenty-three years at your side and you hand me as much money as I ask for and walk away.”

He didn’t delay even a moment with his response.

“Yes.”

For the third time that day, tears stung my eyes but they weren’t good tears, overwhelmed by emotion of hearing a lovely story about a lovely woman or the gentle words from a man I was growing to feel very deeply about.

These were bad tears, overwhelmed by the emotions of loss and betrayal.

“Tears are hardly necessary, Josephine,” Henry said dismissively. “We were simply photographer and assistant.”

“Outside of Gran, for twenty-three years, you were the only real thing I had.”

The mask again slipped but he got it back in place swiftly.

But he said nothing.

I did.

“I’ve hurt you and done that simply by realizing the possibility I might find happiness and reaching for it and you strike back like this?”

“I’m uncertain what kind of happiness you can find with a small town strip club owner in the middle of nowhere in Maine but if that’s what you want, Josephine, you now have a clear shot.”

He was giving me a clear shot.

A clear shot by taking himself away.

“My first living memory is my father slamming my mother’s head against the kitchen floor.”

It came out as blunt and ugly as it was. And when it hit him, the mask disintegrated and Henry flinched so severely, his head jerked back with it.

“Some time later, she left us, never to return. Some time after that, when he discovered I was dating a boy without his permission, he beat me so badly I was in the hospital for a week.”

Another wince and, “Josephine—”

“Gran saved me from that. I managed to become normal again. I went to college. Fell in love. He was controlling, this was true, but he was handsome and he cared about me. I thought. Until the first time he beat me. I fell down a flight of stairs and broke my shoulder. I came back to Gran after that too.”

His hand came out but I took a step away.

“Did you ever wonder why I was so remote, Henry?”

“Honey—”

“Did you ever think to ask?”