House Rules by Rebecca Brooke Page A

mention one of my dealers, I had no intention of leaving things to chance. I also had no intention of watching the action, but even in my section, I could take care of any problems and look for a woman to take home for the night.
    A soft knock sounded on the door to my office. “Come in.”
    Stephanie, my secretary at the dealership, poked her head around the door. “Mr. Karlstad is here to see you.”
    Mr. Karlstad was one of my dad’s oldest clients and I’d only ever dealt with him when Dad was away from the office and unable to take the appointment. Shocked that he was there to see me when I knew that my dad was in his office a few doors down, I jumped to my feet.
    “Please, let him in.”
    Mr. Karlstad strode into the room.Despite the graying hair and the somewhat drawn face, this was not a weak man. I’d heard stories, some of them from my dad himself, and all of them left me certain that I did not want to be on the wrong side of Karlstad.
    “Miller, it’s good to see you again.”
    Stephanie closed the door on her way out. After shaking hands, I gestured to the chairs in front of my desk. “Please take a seat. What can I help you with, Mr. Karlstad?”
    He leaned back in the chair and assessed me for a minute. My instincts went on alert. He was not here for my help. This was something that would only benefit him.
    “I’ve heard your father might be getting you ready to take over the business.”
    I nodded, still wary. Dad had made it clear for years that I would be succeeding him someday, so my taking over was not a secret by any means. This didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be people waiting in the wings to try and manipulate the change for their own benefit. “We’ve talked about it, but nothing has been decided yet. Was that all you stopped by for?” I had no intention of telling him anything we’d discussed earlier in the week, not until I knew what his end game was.
    “Since you ask, I do have a reason for coming by.”
    I waited but he didn’t continue. Whatever the purpose of his visit, he was pissing me the hell off with the game of run around he insisted on playing. I did my best to rein in my temper. “What would that be?” I bit out, hoping he’d get the hint and spit it out.
    He leaned back into his chair as if this would be a long story. Did Dad put up with this shit every time this asshole needed something?
    “Since you’re new to running the business, I thought I could assist with the transition. There are many things to be addressed. The first of which being that I believe I deserve a lower rate.”
    Most people would have laughed, recognizing a joke for what it was. Not in this business. The fucker actually thought I’d go along with this. I rested my elbows on the armrest and steepled my fingers, my body language belying the rage such a suggestion would cause.
    “Is that how you see it?” I asked in a low, controlled voice.
    He stiffened for a moment, then visibly forced himself to relax. “Without your father’s reputation, people will be running to Nathan Marcello. And as someone who is willing to stay, I believe you owe it to me to reward my loyalty and lower my rate.”
    I stayed exactly where I was, my voice deadly calm as I said, “You will get no such thing. I’m still a fucking Hawes and you will show me the respect my name deserves. If you want to take your business to Marcello, be my guest, but I make no guarantees about the security of your information. Considering how long you’ve been a client, there is always the chance that one of your files might be . . . misplaced in the handover.”
    He skin took on a pasty white pallor I wasn’t accustomed to seeing on him, and he ran a finger beneath the collar of his shirt, loosening the constricting material. “You’d risk your own business?” His voice rose an octave as reality slammed into him. He’d made a very poor decision in going there with me.
    I knew a lot about this business, one of the most important