The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(34)
Samara studied her nails for a long moment and finally dropped her hand. “Shelving that topic for the time being—you’ve skipped the last two happy hours we’ve set up. What gives?”
Guilt flared. Journey started to go with the time-honored excuse of work keeping her too busy to spend time with her best friend, but it wasn’t the truth any more than her dating Frank was the truth. Journey clasped her hands together in her lap. “I’m having a hard time with the transition since Mother left. Part of it is the longer hours, but we were already working that leading up to that whole mess. It’s just…” She shrugged, going for nonchalant—as if she hadn’t spent the last few months waking up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and breathing hard, a scream trapped on the inside of her lips.
You didn’t have nightmares Saturday night.
Yeah, not prepared to deal with that.
Journey ran a finger along the hem of her dress. “I turtled instead of being a good friend. I’ve been out a grand total of one time since you left Kingdom Corp, and it wasn’t even a fun night out—it was me making bad life choices.”
Samara’s dark eyes seemed to read between the lines. “You know you can talk to me, right? We don’t have to be the COOs of competing companies first and friends second. I’d do damn near anything for you if you needed me.”
She knew that. Damn it, she knew that.
The temptation to spill everything nearly sent her to her knees. Her father’s threats. Her weakness that she couldn’t beat no matter how hard she fought. Maybe the burden would lessen if she could share it.
Sure. Dump your issues on Samara because you aren’t strong enough to handle them on your own. You already dragged Frank into this mess. Are you really going to pull your best friend in, too?
She managed a smile. “I know. I’m just at a point where I have to figure some stuff out, and unfortunately I have to do it alone.”
Samara finally nodded. “Okay. I get that. You’ve had a hell of a lot of changes in a seriously short time, and needing to get your feet under you is totally understandable.” She grimaced. “Though you don’t have to justify that to me—really. I’m not trying to add to your stress level, but I miss you.”
“Aw, honey, I miss you, too.” She pulled Samara in for a quick hug, inhaling her lavender scent. “When all this bullshit has calmed down, I’m going to kidnap you for a weekend at the Hampton house or somewhere in the Caribbean. We both deserve a few days where the only things we have to worry about are turning over to sun our other sides and whether our drinks are getting too low.”
Samara laughed. “Deal.” She grinned. “Though if things go well, we can bring the guys along and have a couples’ weekend.”
Fat chance of that happening. “Ha ha. Very funny.” Journey relaxed back against the couch. “Enough about me. Fill me in on all the giddy details of how things are going with my darling cousin.”
Chapter Nine
After Samara left, Journey got through two meetings without the sky falling. Some days, her entire job seemed to be putting out fires, but she was good at it. There was nothing like two people walking into a room angry and frustrated—and walking out of it with a solution she’d helped provide. She smiled to herself and set down her pen. There was time for a short lunch before she met with Bellamy for their monthly check-in regarding all things security for Kingdom Corp.
She froze as someone knocked on her door, and then cursed herself for freezing. “Come in.”
The woman who stepped into her office could only be termed handsome. She had a strong jaw and solid body, and her strawberry blond hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense low ponytail. Her gray suit was expensive but boring. All in all, it gave her a forgettable-type appearance…if they had met under any other circumstances.
She gave a cool, professional smile. “Journey King?”
“That’s what it says on the plaque outside my office.” She set her pen down with care and forced herself to take a slow breath. Just because she didn’t recognize this stranger didn’t mean she was in danger. Her fight-or-flight responses were all jacked up, and she couldn’t afford to start attacking anyone who crossed her path. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Dr. Alice Scott. I’m here for the first step of your evaluation.”
Cold skittered down her spine, and she straightened. “I don’t have an appointment on my calendar.” No use in apologizing for her abrupt behavior. From the tight set of Dr. Scott’s mouth the second she walked through the door, she already had a convenient diagnosis ready—at Elliott’s bidding.
“I can reschedule if that’s required.” She reached for her pen, no doubt to write a note about how uncooperative Journey was.
“It’s fine.” She paused and made an effort to moderate her voice. “I only have thirty minutes before my next meeting, but we can speak now.”
“Thirty minutes is more than adequate.” Dr. Scott closed the door softly behind her and took in the office with a critical eye. “I like your art.” Her tone said the exact opposite.
“Thank you.” Journey gritted her teeth. “Please have a seat.”
The shrink sank into her chair as gingerly as if it was covered in something disgusting. She flipped open her notebook and crossed one leg over the other. “We both know why I’m here, so I think it would be best to skip over the softball questions and get to the heart of things.”