Taylored to Perfection (Taylor Made Book 2) Page 10

  “I have had this conversation with you. And I have been very clear. I will not compromise where your safety is concerned. If it means having backup to get this across, then that’s what it means. And this discussion is for Lucy and Jules, too. The three of you seem to lack the ability to understand what is expected of you.”

  “Hold on.” Jules lights like a match. “Lack the ability?”

  Ruth raises her hand and cuts everyone off.

  “Girls. I don’t think you realize what goes into the decisions made regarding your safety. I know it is hard to understand, but this is in your best interest. You want the boys to have protection and they do. They go nowhere without it. Being a Taylor means making concessions. Lucy you were born a Taylor. Jules it won’t be long before you’re official. Emme, you’ve agreed to move in with Graham.” Jules whips her head around at me in shock. I haven’t had the chance to tell her yet. Luckily, Ruth continues, “That makes it official. Security is part of being a Taylor. It’s non-negotiable. So, we all need to come to an agreement about what that looks like for each of you. Then we can put these constant arguments to rest.”

  “And Jackson and Harry are here because?” I direct my question to Graham who’s still standing. He unbuttons his jacket and leans his knuckles against the table.

  “I asked them to be here in hopes you would listen to them since you won’t listen to me.”

  “I listen to you, Graham, but you just demand it of me. You don’t explain it to me. You don’t educate me on why you feel it’s necessary. You want me to be safe, but you keep me in the dark. How can I understand if you won’t tell me?”

  “I shouldn’t have to explain it to you. I’m telling you this is what is needed to keep you safe. You should trust that I know what I’m talking about!” His voice booms over the table.

  “Graham,” Ruth says calmly.

  He releases a deep, frustrated breath.

  “Fine. Let’s go over statistics. Smith, how many threats does my immediate family receive on a weekly basis?”

  “Upwards of fifty threats on a weekly basis.”

  “And how many of those are true concerns?” His eyes dart to mine.

  “On average three to five.”

  “And how close have we come to someone actually achieving their goal?”

  “Closer than I like to admit,” Smith answers.

  “Lucy.”

  “We were able to stop a kidnapping attempt six months ago,” Smith responds.

  “What level would you have assessed the danger to her at that time?”

  “Level ten on a scale of ten,” Smith answers automatically, but I can tell he’s trying to soften his response.

  “Don’t scare her, son,” Ben interjects.

  “Adam,” Graham says, giving him the lead.

  “Smith, of those threats, were any of them aimed at Jules?” Adam asks, clearly already knowing the answer.

  “Yes. She was being virtually stalked by someone claiming to be the Angel Gabriel who said God told him to take her to heaven where she wouldn’t be susceptible to the evils of the Taylor organization.”

  “And how many times did Jules ditch her security over the last three months?” Adam’s look is fierce.

  “Seventeen times.”

  “How many times has she gone out without her tracker?”

  “Roughly ninety percent of the time.”

  “Ninety percent.” Adam’s eyes bore into Jules’.

  “Teague.” Graham looks at him over my shoulder. “What are the active security items we have on Emelia at this time?”

  “We know she’s being followed by an unknown subject in the city. We know someone is investigating her in Memphis. They don’t appear to be related. She was threatened at the club last Thursday evening. She has no tracker. She’s had attention from gossip columns on eight separate occasions over the last few weeks, one running tomorrow claiming she is the grandchild of billionaire Forrest Forrester. Also, we assume it won’t be long before word leaks that you’re moving in together.”

  “What the hell, Mags?” Jules says, unable to stay quiet about the news any longer.

  Before I can answer Graham confirms the news. “I asked Emelia to move in with me last night and she has agreed.”

  “After we left,” I explain to Harry. I don’t want him to think I lied to him.

  “Is this what you want?” Jackson leans forward, asking me.

  “Us moving in together is not the issue…” Graham stops when Jackson holds up his hand.

  “It’s an issue to me, as I am sure it is an issue to Harry. You’ve only known each other a month. And you’ll forgive me, Graham, but your history of long term commitment isn’t stellar. It doesn’t mean I don’t support it, but I do think it deserves a moment of pause to discuss.”

  “Agreed.” Ben and Harry echo.

  Even though I don’t want to make this any easier on Graham, I feel it is my obligation to mollify the situation before everyone jumps on this train. “Graham and I have a lot to learn. Especially about each other. But I didn’t make this decision lightly. And I don’t take the commitment lightly. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. We’re both going into this with our eyes open.”

  “Have you ever asked someone to live with you before?” Harry asks Graham.

  “No.” His tone softens. “I haven’t had anyone I was seeing even in my apartment. It’s not something I take lightly either.”

  “So how do these things get leaked if the only people who know about it are sitting in this room?” I ask the obvious question, changing the subject.

  “We’re working on that,” Teague answers. “We think it was just coincidence that the rumor began at the same time you two actually happen to be moving in together.”

  “And to wrap up the statistics, how many threats have we received regarding Emme since we met one month ago?” Graham circles the group back around.

  “Two hundred sixteen,” Smith responds.

  “What?” I cry.

  “Two hundred sixteen. More than four times the threats received to the entire Taylor family,” Graham elaborates.

  “We expect that number to go down once the newness wears off.” Teague adds.

  “How many do you have?” I ask Graham.

  “Depends on what I have going that week. Slow weeks I average a hundred. Difficult weeks I’ve had five hundred plus.” He says this like he’s rattling off a baseball score.

  Jules and I exchange glances, clearly on the same page.

  “So, then, let’s talk turkey,” I concede.

  I finally get a smile out of Graham. “Talk turkey?”

  “Yep. What is the minimal amount of security we can get away with for y’all to be happy?”

  “Well.” CEO Graham stands taller, one hand rested on the back of a chair, the other in his pocket. He’s trying to be nonchalant, but I know it’s a show. “For starters, I would like to have the trackers implanted.”

  “No.” Jules and I respond together.

  “It’s done in a doctor’s office. I can even have them come to the house. It takes only a few minutes. It goes under the skin. You won’t even know it’s there.”

  “I already have one, so I’m good,” Lucy says, obviously bored with the show.

  Honestly, Graham has a better chance of being bopped on the head by the Easter Bunny than Jules and I agreeing to this.

  Jules and I look at each other. “Jules and I will take it into consideration. If we say no, what is the other option?”

  “That you go nowhere without your tracker.”

  “Next item?”

  “No more hidden security. You have one near you at all times when you are outside of the house,” Adam says.

  “And when we go meet clients? I tell them what?”

  “Smith and Teague understand their jobs, Emelia,” Graham responds, clearly exasperated. “They know how to blend in. They will sit outside of a conference room or office. You and Jules will still be abl
e to conduct business with people.”

  “And Lucy?” Jules asks. “You expect her to traipse around school with a security guard?

  “If it were up to me and Adam, yes. We would. But Mom and Dad aren’t keen on that idea. For now, her security will remain at a distance but will be visible and accessible at all times.”

  “Mom!” Lucy says, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “Don’t be melodramatic, Lucy. It will vary very little from what you are already used to,” says Ruth.

  “What else?” Jules asks.

  “For you, that’s it,” Adam answers. “For now. We’ll revisit as the need arrives. What do you think? Is this a compromise you can live with?”

  “Remind us what compromise you guys are making on this?” she retorts.

  “Well, for starters, you’re allowed to leave the house without four armed men following you. We’re not mandating a schedule of when you can and can’t go out. Were also not mandating you give a schedule in advance. All compromises on our part,” Graham explains.

  “I’m overwhelmed by your generosity,” I reply.

  “I can agree to that, pending the final decision on the trackers. Mags?” Jules waits for my approval.

  I’m just about to agree to meet them on these terms when Graham speaks. “Those are the terms for you Jules. I have more for Emelia.”

  “Do tell, sir. What else would you like for me to do?” Lucy isn’t the only one totally over this.

  “That’s two.” Graham’s eyes bead down on mine.

  “Two what, Graham? Warnings? Threats? Accusations? What is it? Clearly your drawing attention to it isn’t making any difference.” I’m fuming. I have lost all of my ability to play well with others.

  “Don’t fucking start that shit, Emelia.” CEO Graham is in full garb. What I need right now is Boyfriend Graham. Why doesn’t he understand that?

  “Graham,” Harry cautions having been relatively silent until now.

  “Don’t you start, Harry. You have literally created the most frustrating creature to ever walk this planet.” Graham places his hand to his forehead like he’s in actual physical pain.

  For some reason, Graham’s frustration brings me immense pleasure. So much so that I cannot contain a huge grin. “Oh my god. There is something seriously wrong with you.” Graham shakes his fist in complete and utter frustration.

  “Don’t stroke out, baby. What are your remaining requests?” I say, a bit less combative this time.

  “Some information I need, but we can handle that later. Lastly, Teague goes with you to Memphis.”

  “Actually, I’m going with her tomorrow,” Harry announces. That’s news to me.

  “Honestly, I’ve made the trips fine on my own. Plus, I already have my ticket. And despite you thinking I’m not compromising, I did try to get Teague a ticket today, but the flight is full.”

  “I’ve taken care of that already too,” Harry says. “I want to see where you grew up,” he quickly adds, anticipating my protests.

  “Is there anyone else here that would like to make decisions for me? Please can we just get them all out on the table?” My annoyance is back on full display.

  “See,” Graham says simply to Harry, attempting to prove his earlier point.

  We all sit in silence for a minute. Graham runs his hands through his already disheveled hair.

  “We’re a family,” Ruth interjects in an attempt to placate the room. “All of us. If your parents lived here, Jules, they would be included in this meeting, too. This is how we handle issues that affect all of us. We sit around a table and we talk it out. No matter how long it takes. No bond is stronger than this. One for all and all for one. Understood? …Understood?” She repeats herself with a bit more force, and suddenly I can see a little of the gangsta in her that Ben mentioned before. Ruth is the matriarch of this family. She has the measure of the Taylor men. I admire the hell out of her.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I answer quickly, the others following. Including Graham.

  Ben stands to adjourn the meeting.

  As everyone mills about, I walk over to Jackson. “Did you figure out who we gave the red Carolina Herrera to?”

  “No. Thanks for reminding me. I still can’t find it. Mind if I use your laptop to log into our server? I meant to look earlier and got sidetracked. For the life of me, I can’t remember who we styled it on. Thought if I checked the tape and knew what day I took it out of the closet it would give me an idea.”

  “Have at it.” I turn my laptop to him. “What do you mean tape?” Before he can answer I am distracted by Jules, Lucy, and Ruth saying their goodbyes, then I wait for the men to stop talking about some business deal they are working on so I can say a proper goodbye to Harry. I want to make sure he knows I didn’t mislead him about moving in with Graham. When it becomes obvious they won’t be wrapping up any time soon, I turn to give back my full attention to Jackson but something is off. He’s wound tight. His whole body looks like he’s Bruce Banner about to burst through his seams.

  “What’s wrong?”

  His jaw is jumping. His neck is red and his fists are clenched.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask again, reaching out to comfort him.

  “Emme James, if you touch me right now, I will lose my shit. I am so furious with you,” he says deathly low but audible.

  “Jackson?” Graham says, surprised by his tone.

  “With me?” I say. “What did I do?”

  He turns the laptop towards me, but I’m already looking at the wall. It’s still projecting.

  It’s video feed. Of the workroom. I had no idea there were cameras in there. That’s what he meant about reviewing the tape.

  The workroom is empty, then you see me enter from the main hall. With John Michaels behind me.

  I lunge for my laptop.“Turn it off!” I demand when Jackson blocks my attempt.

  I stand there watching John attack me, my screams filling the conference room. It shows me against the wall, him pulling my underwear down. I didn’t realize he had my dress pulled up. It shows him hitting me, me flying over the table, crashing into the chairs, them falling on top of me. Me lying there as he spits, curses, then leaves. The tape goes quiet. Several minutes go by before I make a sound, a whimper, and eventually the video shows me stumbling around as I pull myself and the room back together.

  I stare at the screen in shock, feeling violated all over again. It takes me a minute to register that other people are in the room, and that one is speaking.

  “Smith, Teague, Adam. Out. Now, please.” Ben makes his way to the door, closing it behind them.

  Jackson is the first to break. “When was this?”

  “Three Thursdays ago,” Graham says. His icy voice gives me chills. “He sent you the flowers.”

  I nod but don’t answer.

  “This is why you dropped him as a client,” Jackson says.

  I nod again, the words still not coming. I’m shaking from head to toe.

  “I asked you and I asked you,” Graham hisses through gritted teeth.

  “That doesn’t entitle you to an answer.”

  “The fuck it doesn’t.” He makes his way to the door. Smith is standing there. When did he come back in?

  “All due respect, sir,” he says to Graham.

  “Smith, get the fuck out of my way or I’ll move you.” Smith’s look tells me there’s no way Graham would win that one.

  “Son, before you or any of you do something we will all regret, let me tell you where we are in handling this matter.”

  Graham turns to his father in disbelief. “You knew?”

  Ben doesn’t cower. Matter-of-factly, he tells Graham about the police report I filed and that John has since filed his own report. He tells them about the restraining order he put in place when John approached me twice again in the Hamptons. “Now we have the evidence we need to move this forward,” he explains, pointing to the screen. The video at least serves that purpose. “We have to handle this in a
court of law. It’s how we keep him from doing it to someone else.”

  “Dad, you have your court and I have mine.”

  “And you have my blessing to handle this, Graham, but you can’t touch him,” Ben warns.

  “But I can.” I whip my head around to Harry.

  “Harry, no,” I plead.

  “Emme, I’m sorry but you no longer have a say so in how this is handled. You’ve tried it your way. He’s still coming around, now we’re going to handle it our way.” Harry points at himself and Graham.

  “Happy?” I look at Jackson, feeling frustrated, exposed, and angry at him for bringing up the video.

  “I’m sorry, did you just ask me if I’m happy? Am I happy that I have to watch some fucker put his hands on you, hit you, throw you like a ragdoll over the table and spit on you? Am I happy? No, Emme. I am not happy.”

  “You could have brought it to me in private.” I find my voice and rise to my cause.

  “I didn’t know it was on there. And for the record, I’ve asked you more than once. And they deserve to know.” He points to Graham and the others, his look fierce. “Maybe now you’ll let someone protect you instead of you always being the one to protect others. Value yourself with the same intensity.” His words gut me. I feel like I’ve been ripped open for all to see. Instinctually, I wrap my arms around my body.

  “I’m okay by the way. I really appreciate you asking.” I don’t mask the pain I am feeling. “Would you drive me home please?” I ask Smith quietly.

  “Of course.” He opens the door for me.

  I leave without another word to anyone in the room.

  “Thank you,” I say to Smith as we pull up to Graham’s apartment. I place my hand on his arm to let him know he doesn’t need to open my door for me, but he does anyway.

  “You’re welcome, Emme,” he says. His use of my name is oddly touching.

  I take the elevator to the apartment and make my way to our room where I change into Graham’s sweats and wrap myself in my grandfather’s cardigan. I need to escape, I think, making my way to a guestroom, lying down on the bed, lowering the room darkening shades.