Adam hands us our cups and makes his way to the other side of the desk, sitting down in his chair and surveying us, “So, Mr. Harlow… I trust you’ve brought the relevant paperwork?” He’s smiling as he skips straight to the point.
“Of course, Mr. Jones. What exactly would you like to see first?” Cade smiles in return, flicking his briefcase open easily.
“Please, call me Adam.” His eyes move to me as he says it, meeting my gaze. Electricity crackles in the air between us and I feel my breath grow short.
He looks back at Cade, “The paperwork for the trust fund, thank you.” His voice is as polite as when he first opened the door, but I can feel the current running beneath. It’s almost patronizing and I see the tension grow in Cade’s shoulder.
These men hate each other. They may wear suits and dance around the issue with polite talk and subtle digs, but their hatred for each other is clear. Not even five minutes in. I bite back a sigh and lean forward, trying to seem interested.
I realize with startling clarity that I am going to have to do a damn good job of this if I want to convince Adam of our relationship. I rest a hand on Cade’s arm, “Is that the letter you mentioned?” I ask, naive and eager to help my fiancé. My voice is a soft murmur, as if I only want Cade to hear me. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
To his credit, Cade doesn’t shoot me an irritated glare even though I feel him stiffen. Instead, he looks at me in a supportive sort of way, “Yes, that’s the one.”
Tension cracks between us and I hope that Adam mistakes it for sexual tension, romantic chemistry or something other than anger.
Cade finds the papers and passes them over to Adam.
I wonder how long I can keep this up. The meeting is only meant to last for an hour, but five minutes in and I don’t know what I am supposed to feel.
I focus on a point behind Adam’s head and try to breathe.
I can do this.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CADE HARLOW
Stress pounds through my temples, thudding through my head and making it ache. I’ve been working too damn hard to lose everything to this guy. He’s smooth, I can’t deny it. He’s crisp and well dressed and he talks to Ellen like he knows just what makes her tick. I feel an odd jealousy at the way he makes her smile, the way he elicits a laugh from her.
She needs to be careful. Anger thuds at my chest. If she acts like a schoolgirl with a crush around Adam, he’ll know that our relationship isn’t for real. She’s playing her part well, touching my arm, asking innocent questions, taking an interest in me and what I am doing. But I wonder if she’s attracted to him.
She nods at everything that Adam and I say, and she looks as polished as she did the evening I proposed to her. Everything is going perfectly – everything is going according to plan and, honestly, there is no real reason for me to worry.
But I just can’t shake the concern from my bones. The way Adam looks at Ellen has me unsettled, and I have a bad feeling that she’s looking at him in much the same way. I can’t blow this.
I need to come up with better ways to convince her to play her part. I need to find a better way to deal with Adam. I’d be doing so much better if I had actually slept last night and the ache in my head is growing blinding.
“Okay, Mr. Harlow. Everything seems to be in order.” Adam is smiling as he holds up the paperwork, “Do you mind if I take a copy, just for the records?”
“No, of course not.” I respond pleasantly.
A moment later, he’s stepped out of the room. An obvious ploy. I turn to look at Ellen, cutting her off before she can speak, “Thanks for coming with me.” I take her hand in my own, speaking in low tones, “I know it’s boring, but I really appreciate it.”
She smiles and it’s so warm and so sincere that I feel winded for a moment, “Don’t worry about it, Cade. I’d never make you go through this alone.”
A hand seems to grip my heart, clutching it tightly in my chest. There is sincerity in her voice that I have not heard for so long. It makes me ache and I hate it. Of course she is acting sincere and loving. It would be silly of her not to – we’d both lose out if she decided to be snippy.
Still… the feeling lingers in my chest long after the moment has passed. When Adam wanders back into the room, we shift apart again, my attention moving back to him. He hands me my papers and I nod.
“Thank you.” I take them and tuck them back into my briefcase.
“I don’t expect any delays.” Adam is smiling in a reassuring sort of way, “We’ll probably need to meet a few more times, to sign some papers, but I’ll be in touch.”