She hovered the cursor over the accept button, feeling a moment of regret. Once she clicked on the icon, she was effectively saying goodbye to Stump River forever. There was little chance that she’d ever return to see Lucy or Beth or Al or Ruth or Armand... When she thought about it, it was surprising how many people she’d come to know in such a short time. Back in Chicago, she didn’t even know the name of the people who lived next door and they’d been there for months!
Her mind had purposely skirted away from thinking about Bryan and Daniel. She hadn’t seen them that often, yet in some ways she viewed them as the brothers she had never had. It had been fun hanging out with them last night, well, at least until Ryne appeared. Would she miss him? Firming her jaw, she gave an emphatic mental ‘no.’ The man wasn’t to be trusted and the sooner she was away from him, the better. Before she could change her mind, she clicked the ‘accept’ button and watched the screen flash her confirmed flight. The ticket would be waiting for her at the airport. Mel wondered why that fact made her feel slightly ill.
Checking her watch, she pushed her chair back. It was time to find and confront Ryne. There was no point in putting it off. They’d parted badly and she really didn’t want to see him, but getting it over and done with was the best plan; sort of like removing a bandage...fast and clean. Once she stated that the interview had to be done today because she was leaving, he’d see that she was no longer willing to play along with his little games. Oh, he’d probably protest and make excuses, but she wouldn’t stand for it. Even if he was working, he could still answer her questions while he pumped gas and changed tires. With her steno pad of questions firmly clutched in her hand, she bid farewell to Beth and headed out the door.
*****
Aldrich leaned back in his leather chair and stared out his office window. His feet, encased in highly polished designer shoes, were propped up on his desk while the fingers of one hand idly twirled an engraved, gold-plated pen. His other hand held a receiver lightly to his ear as he listened to Greyson’s instructions.
The view from his fifteenth storey window was impressive, though Aldrich hardly ever bothered to notice it. This type of location was just one part of the prestigious perks that came with working for such a wealthy man like Greyson. He was, after all, one of the wealthiest men in the country. It was a far cry from where he had started his legal career; a small office in a rundown three storey walk up. He’d been fresh out of school, in debt up to his ears and eager to make his mark on the world. Note the absence of the word ‘idealistic.’ Aldrich smirked. He’d never been idealistic. A realistic view of how the world worked was his main advantage. Know where to be, who to talk to and when to look the other way; that was his motto and so far it had served him well. Hence, his job with Greyson Inc.
A few drops of rain fell on the glass, drawing his attention to the weather. The sky was grey and overcast, matching his mood perfectly. Greyson was being more difficult than ever and Aldrich was stretching his patience to the limit as he attempted to remain calm and unflappable. While he’d never openly admit it, he found the tycoon a tad...difficult...to handle. He’d been working for the man for five years now and still never knew what to make of him.
The man was rich, powerful, moody, and more than a little eccentric. Today, it was one of his eccentricities that was giving Aldrich a headache. Honestly, how the man had ever managed to amass a fortune was a mystery. He had no sense of the value of a dollar, squandering money on foolish projects, ignoring the safety of priceless art objects...
“Are you listening, Aldrich?” The voice barked down the line at him and Aldrich momentarily removed the receiver from his ear.
“Yes, sir. You were explaining that you’ll be incommunicado for five days.” He didn’t add that it was a monthly ritual and there was no need for the phone call. Humouring clients was all part of the job.
“Good. Thought you’d dozed off in that cushy office I pay for.”
“No, sir. I’m just taking note of your instructions. You will be unavailable for the usual five days. The west wing of the house is sealed and all but a skeleton staff will be given a long weekend. No one is to enter the estate, except emergency personnel in the event of a fire or some other such tragedy. If that is the case, the Ryne Taylor photograph is to be saved first.” He hesitated to speak what was on his mind, but given that Greyson was on the other end of a phone line and not in the room, Aldrich decided to be bold. “Sir, the chances of a fire are negligible and, if such an event were to occur, other pieces of your collection are worth considerably more than that one picture.”