“Yes some experimental drug that Dexter convinced Christopher would get rid of Calvin. All it does is make us queasy and it's hard to sleep,”
“Dexter gave Chris pills? Why would he do that? I thought…”
“Remember Lauren, everyone has an agenda. No matter how much they pretend not to,” he says before closing the bathroom door.
Is this really happening?
*
When we pull up to a valet with half a million dollar cars in front of us I wonder where exactly Collin has taken me and if maybe I should text someone and let them know what’s going on. I don’t know anything about this side of my husband, a side that grooms his hair perfectly. He seems harmless enough and has been more forthcoming than Cal ever has, but he hasn’t told me where we are or why we’re here. We walk into the beautiful completely filled lounge and the maître de greets us.
“Do you have a reservation?” she asks.
“I am a party of Dexter Crestfield’s,” he says confidently. She takes a moment to look at her screen and in a moment she smiles brightly. She calls to another waitress.
“Can you show them to Mr. Crestfield’s area,” she says. We follow behind the waitress and Collin puts his hand behind my back. Ushering me forward.
“What are we doing here?” I ask him. This place doesn’t look like Dexter and Helen’s style. When we’ve dined with them it’s been at more modern exclusive places. This place, while very upscale, seems a bit mature for them. When we reach the private area my knees almost buckle.
It’s Dexter Crestfield Sr. He looks over at us curiously before a wide smile spreads across his face and he gives a signal for the two very intimidating security guards to let us in. Collin starts to move forward but my legs won’t.
“What’s wrong?” he asks simply.
“I-I don’t like being around this guy. What are we doing here?” I ask tightly.
“If you want me to help you, you help me,” he says, pulling me forward.
“Lauren, how nice to see you again,” he says, standing as the man seated with him at his table does the same.
“Senator Garvin this is my lovely granddaughter,” he says enthusiastically.
“She is quite stunning,” the senator says, looking as if I was brought in on a tray for dessert. His date, who looks young enough to be my little sister, shifts in her seat as she glances over me.
Relax, I am not your competition.
I haven’t been in a dress in a while and I pull down the short white cocktail dress Collin insisted I wear.
“Senator, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience, can you and your guest excuse us? We have an immediate private family matter that we need to discuss,” Collin interjects. Mr. Crestfield's eyebrow raises as he eyes Collin, but without missing a beat he turns to the senator and his companion.
“If you could excuse us for just a few moments?”
“Of course,” the senator says as he and his date leave the table.
“Now, who is it accompanying you tonight?” Mr. Crestfield says, eyeing me.
“Honey, take a seat,” Collin says, pulling out my seat. I take it and Collin does the same.
“We haven’t met before, how would you like me to refer to you. Mr. Crestfield?” Collin says sarcastically.
“Is this a joke?” he says, looking at me. I focus my eyes on the table.
“No, this is farce. My name is Collin and, unlike Christopher and Calvin, I remember everything,” he says smugly. Mr. Crestfield takes a sip of what looks like brandy and sits it down, appearing unfazed even though my stomach is doing flips.
“What is it that you want?” he asks.
“I want what’s owed to us. A third of Crestfield Corporation,” he says, folding his hands calmly.
“What?” I ask him, confused.
“I am sorry and what makes you think that you’re owed anything that I have?” Mr. Crestfield asks, amused.
“Would you really like to get into those details? Because I, for one, prefer not to repeat myself. Maybe we should have a reporter present for the conversation so everything is on record and there are no misunderstandings,” Collin says easily. He and Mr. Crestfield stare each other down for what seems like forever, all while my heart tries to jump out of my chest and make a run for it. I know that something big is being referred to that I have no idea about, and the way Collin just strode in and asked for a third of Crestfield Corporation makes me realize that he knows something he isn’t supposed to. Finally, Mr. Crestfield laughs. I glance over at Collin, whose face is like stone.
“I like you Collin. You remind me of a younger version of myself,” he says, taking another sip of his drink.