you look younger than when I saw you last year. How does that work?” Lexy’s laugh broke into a cough when Norma nearly squeezed the breath out of her.
The woman stood barely five feet but she had strong, wiry arms and a steel will to match. She was the perfect assistant for Marshall Worthington and had stuck it out with him for over twenty years. Lexy only wished her own mother was as capable of going toe-to-toe with him.
Norma moved back to hold Lexy at arm’s length. “Why are you dressed like a funeral director?”
“Gee, thanks.” Lexy quickly smoothed back the tendril of hair Norma had dislodged. “This is an Armani suit and I think I look very professional.”
Norma sighed. “You do. You just don’t look like you.”
“Today isn’t about me,” she said quietly. This was about getting back in her father’s good graces. Eight years and he still hadn’t forgiven her for not going to Harvard.
“You have a point. He’s awfully stubborn.”
Stubborn wasn’t the word Lexy would have gone for. Infuriating. Ultraconservative. Controlling. But that wasn’t all he was, and she couldn’t afford to forget that he’d been a loving father. Until she’d chosen her own path.
God, she hated having to grovel. Hated it.
No, she refused to look at it that way. All she’d ever wanted was to join the family business and she’d prepared herself by learning the workings of the The Worthington Group inside and out. Besides, she was qualified and her father knew it.
She faced herself in the mirror and plucked a tiny piece of lint off the wool blazer. The damn suit had cost her a fortune. She wouldn’t have minded the expense if it hadn’t pushed her dangerously close to maxing out her last credit card. But she needed to appear confident, successful, even though Marshall Worthington would see right through her. It wouldn’t matter. Appearances meant everything to her father.
“We should go,” Norma said, squeezing Lexy’s hand before leading the way.
Together, they walked past a pretty, fresh-faced blonde manning the reception desk. “Remember the summer I spent sitting right there?” It had been the month between junior and senior year of prep school. She’d gone to the house in St. Thomas for part of her break. But she’d quickly grown bored and thought it would be useful to get to know more about the company.
“Of course I remember. Marshall couldn’t have been more pleased.”
Back then it seemed Lexy could do no wrong. Full of promise, competitive to a fault, she’d been Daddy’s little girl. The golden child. Until everything had gone to hell. “What’s with all the art deco?” The lobby had been the very picture of tradition, and now it was gleaming with chrome and lacquer.
“Harrison,” Norma said.
“Wow. I’ll give it to him. He must have been very convincing to win Dad over.” Lexy tried to not feel resentful. Bitterness would only derail her meeting. Besides, she had no right. She sure hadn’t given her brother’s feelings a thought when the attention and praise were centered on her. She’d been far too selfish, her sense of entitlement off the charts. Easy to see now, so at least she could be grateful for losing the blinders. Besides, she wasn’t looking to replace Harrison. She only wanted him to scoot over a little.
They’d reached her father’s office, his huge double doors still the same sturdy oak. She paused a moment, wondering if recanting would’ve been enough for him. Had she backed down and gone to Harvard like he wanted, would her life have turned out differently? Or would he have held it against her for daring to have her own opinion?
Sadly, her decision to go to Stanford had had nothing to do with sound reasoning and everything to do with Hunter Livingston. After dating him for six months they’d agreed to apply to Stanford together. It had never occurred to her that her father would object. And with such vehemence. Before she knew it, her innocent act of independence had escalated to full-blown rebellion.
Ironically, her relationship with Hunter hadn’t made it to freshman year. But the war with her father had quietly raged on.
“I assume he’s in there.”
“Yes. So is Harrison.”
“Are they just finishing up?” she asked, hoping she’d be meeting her father alone.
“No, I’m afraid your brother fully intends to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Lexy sighed. “So they’re waiting for me.”
Norma nodded. “It’s shameful, their treating this like an interview. You have as much right to help run this company as Harrison does. I haven’t spoken to your father for two days.” She slipped behind her desk, tugged down the hem of her black blazer and lowered her voice. “I don’t even know if the idiot noticed.”
That made Lexy smile.
Norma pressed the intercom buzzer with a manicured red nail, announced Lexy’s arrival, then released the button before her father could respond. Wonderful. That must’ve improved his mood.
“Don’t take any guff from them, you hear me?” Norma’s warning frown eased. “It’s good to have you back.”
Switching her purse to her left hand, Lexy murmured, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Norma’s expression fell. “That doesn’t sound like the girl I know.”
That headstrong idealist hadn’t been up to her eyeballs in debt. Still, the sadness in Norma’s green eyes got to Lexy and she pulled back her shoulders. “You’re right. I’m going to totally kill this,” she said, and smiled at the alarm in the older woman’s face. “It’s slang. And it’s a good thing.”
“Oh. Well, then, go kill it.”
Lexy paused, her hand on the doorknob. Maybe Harrison was sticking around to give her moral support. He was actually a pretty good brother most of the time. Okay, some of the time.
She found a smile the second before she opened the door. “Good morning, Father,” she said, not surprised to see him sitting behind his antique mahogany desk.
He nodded. “Good morning, Alexis. You’re right on time.”
When she didn’t immediately see Harrison, she thought Norma might’ve been mistaken. And then Lexy spotted him, sitting on the couch against the back wall, directly under the Monet. His relaxed posture couldn’t hide the frost in his eyes.
“Hello, Harrison, good to see you.” She tensed when he didn’t respond. So what...he felt threatened? Too bad. There was plenty of room in the company for both of them.
It would serve Harrison right if she sat with her back to him but they weren’t kids anymore. She settled in a chair that mostly faced her father without her position being rude to her brother. “The lobby looks great,” she said. “Nice, clean lines but still warm and inviting.”
“I’m still getting used to all that chrome,” Marshall said with just enough disdain to get his disapproval across. “I’ve promised to give it another
