The lights glare down on me. The emails that pour into my inbox demand solutions, demand so much of me. I am just about to grab a coffee, hoping that a five-minute break will have me back up to speed, but as I stand, the phone begins to ring.
With a groan, I sit back down. I clear my throat and pick up the phone, sounding as professional as ever, "Cade Harlow speaking. How may I help you?"
"Mr. Harlow, I am so glad that I got hold of you."
It might just be the exhaustion talking, but the voice on the other side of that line sounds too smooth. Too unruffled. Too calm and composed. He has only said a single sentence and already I have a feeling that he believes he holds all the cards.
But I have no idea what game we are meant to be playing.
He continues, "I'm Adam Jones, a lawyer. I'm calling in regards to the release of your trust fund."
I feel my heart clench in my chest as I stare at the figures on the screen, the terribly bleak figures. I steel myself, my voice as even and professional as ever.
"Mr. Jones. Thank you for your call. How can I assist you with that?" I ask.
"I would like to arrange a meeting to discuss the transfer of funds upon your birthday." I can hear a quiet smile in his voice. "When would suit you?"
"My schedule is quite full at the moment." I glance at the computer. I am most definitely not lying.
"I understand, Mr. Harlow. Running a company must take so much of your time." I feel defensive, chilled. He's done his research on me.
He continues, "But if you could find some time, I would really appreciate it. The quicker we can get through the paperwork, the quicker we can get the money transferred to you."
I skim through my calendar, considering his words, "I'm free Wednesday morning."
"That would be perfect. Let me give you my details." He rattles off an email address and I take it down, so that I can give him a more concrete time.
"Is there anything I should bring?" I ask, curt, polite.
"Just the standard paperwork, proof of identification and so forth." He pauses and I can feel the tension crackle in the air as he adds casually, "And bring your fiancée. It would be good to meet her."
I freeze. It is so causal and so threatening at the same time. Completely harmless, a simple request and yet it gets my back up.
"I'll see if she is available. Thank you for your time, Mr. Jones." I know the edge in my voice is cold, but I am beyond caring. I've played nice with this man for long enough and it is clear what he is up to. What worries me most is the fact that he doesn't seem interested in hiding his true intentions – he must be pretty confident in himself, in finding a chink in my armor.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Harlow. I look forward to seeing you there." So pleasant, so polite.
I put down the phone and I am angry to see that my hands are shaking. It's nothing. This man doesn't know anything. He's just a hired snoop, lawyer or not. He's the hired help and there is no way I am going to let him topple the empire my father built.
There will be no reason for him to doubt the relationship between Ellen and me. No reason to snoop any further or get anyone else involved. There is no reason for me to worry and I need to keep that firmly in my mind, and not worry about the rest of it. Just play my part well and leave the rest to fate. And to Ellen.
I stare at the phone, the longing for a cup of coffee strong. I have to make yet another phone call now, deal with yet another set of problems. My head is starting to throb and resentment builds in my chest against Adam Jones, even though I have never met him in person.
I pick up the phone again and with a sense of reluctance, I dial Ellen's number.
It rings for so long that I'm worried she is not going to pick up. When she does, I sigh in relief, "Ellen. When's your break? I'm dying for a coffee."
CHAPTER SIX
ELLEN CASSIDY
I jump when my phone rings, scrabbling to find it in the bottom of my bag. I finally manage to get it out, just before it goes to voicemail. I answer and hold it up to my ear. I sound breathless, "Ellen speaking."
"Ellen. When's your break? I'm dying for a coffee." It's Cade. There's an odd tone to his words and I quietly wonder if there's news.
I glance at the customer in the chair, waiting for highlights to finish developing, "In about half an hour. Where would you like to meet?"
"I'll see you at the salon." He sounds distracted, like he has had one heck of a busy morning.
I smile, despite my frustration. "What if I have plans?"
"Do you?" He shoots back.
I sigh, "I'll see you in half an hour."
"Good." His tone softens a little, "Thanks for agreeing at such short notice."
We get off the phone and I turn back to my client. Only five more minutes on the highlights and I take my time preparing the equipment I will need, readying the sinks and more. Five minutes later and I am rubbing the lather into her hair, rinsing it out and styling it into a flattering cut, a quick blow dry and a spritz of hair product and another happy customer is leaving the salon. I glance at the clock, and tell my manager that I'm taking my break now.
Ducking into the back, I change into a more flattering shirt. I leave the same old jeans on – not really bothered to change them. A quick brush through my hair, flash of hair product and application of lipstick has me feeling a little fresher.
I pull on my coat, grab my bag and head out of the store. Cade is right on time, standing at the corner. He smiles at me and I feel my insides flutter despite myself. He's carrying a single rose, which he presents to me, "Thank you for joining me."
I shrug, although I cannot hide the blush that grows on my skin at the lovely gesture, "Thank you."
We begin walking down the street, the cool air teasing my hair and brushing down my neck. I shiver and I can see Cade hunting for a suitable coffee shop. He eventually settles on a little one not far from my salon. It's quaint, almost boutique and it is not the type of shop I would have thought Cade enjoyed.
We sit down and we both order our coffee. Cade orders a double shot of espresso and I notice the sallow look to his skin. He is as handsome as ever, and you'd have to have seen him many times to notice when he is looking a bit pale. There is little doubt in my mind, though – Cade is working himself hard.
When the coffee comes, he doesn't hesitate in drinking it as quickly as he can. I sip mine slowly, enjoying the taste. "So, what's the matter?"
"Does something need to be the matter for me to take my fiancée out to coffee?" He smiles, smooth as ever. Tired or not, he's still the same as he always is.
I shrug, "You tell me. You seem a bit tired."
Cade glances at me. "Busy morning. Got a phone call from the trust fund lawyer."
The hair on the back of my neck prickles at the news and I feel a little sick, a little giddy at the thought. I'm trying to keep a straight face, but I am sure that I am failing hopelessly. "What about?" I ask as casually as I can.
There's tension around Cade's eyes, but he's remarkably casual and calm, "Just a meeting to get all my documents in order." He smiles and it looks a little thin, "Meet you, my fiancée. The usual."
He's as casual and composed, but I can feel the tension crackling in the air between us. His meaning is absolutely clear as day. They don't believe our relationship is real. They're going to do everything they can to disprove it. I feel nausea settle in my stomach.
I want to ask him questions, to talk about a game plan. Instead, I reach across the table and take his hand, looking at him lovingly. "I'd love to come with you. When's the meeting?" I smile.
For a moment, I am convinced that I have caught Cade off guard. Then he sighs and I can tell that everything's going smoothly again, "Wednesday." He looks at me with concern so believable that I swear it is genuine, "Will you be able to get off work?"
I consider this in earnest for a moment, before I nod, "Should be okay. What time?"
"I'll send you the details. The morning, I expect." he smiles. "We should grab breakfast before the meeting."
"Sounds great." I have a sneaky suspicion that I will not be up for eating anything at all on the day of the meeting, but I will do whatever I need to in order to keep up the pretense.
I grin in an attempt to ease the tension that is still very much in the air, "Maybe I will take you up on the offer to go shopping."
Cade shrugs, "You look gorgeous no matter what you wear."
I'm annoyed at myself for how easily he is able to take me off guard. Sweet words, flowers, coffee dates. He surprises me at every turn. I know he just has to keep up pretenses, but it is easy to get caught up in it all.
"Flattery, Mr. Harlow." I rummage in my purse.
This time, I'm able to call the waitress first. However, before I can pay, he has slipped a card into the bill and sent it back with a tip. I shoot him a dark look, "I can pay for coffee."
"I know … but I asked you out." He raises an eyebrow, "I do have manners, you know."
Suddenly, I feel pushed aside, acutely aware of how fake this all is. It's not a relationship – it's a business transaction, and no amount of searing kisses will fix that.
"No, I don't always notice that." I mutter as I rise to my feet. I turn to the door, making my way to the exit. Cade catches up with me as I step outside. He catches my arm and turns me around to face him.