Not A Chance (Heartstrings #2)

40. Indie

The thoughts in my mind had been frozen since I’d hung up with my father the night before. I wasn’t sure if the previous eight hours could count as nighttime because I hadn’t gotten a single second of sleep.

I’d texted Theo when we landed but had no memory of what I’d typed.

Worry and exhaustion had me in a daze as my father’s driver led me to the car and helped me into the back seat.

“Miss.” Winston cleared his throat in the front seat. I dragged my foggy gaze over to him. “Miss Indigo. We’re here.” He jutted his chin to indicate we’d stopped in front of my parents’ front door.

“Oh” was all I could manage. What was my father going to say when I went inside?

He smiled kindly—for being an asshole, my father seemed to hire genuinely nice employees—and spoke softly. “Shall I get your bag? Or, erm, did you forget your toiletry bag on the plane? I could drive you to the nearest department store for replacements before you go in? ”

Winston’s kind offer to help me avoid this meeting for a little while longer permeated the thick wall of worry that I’d surrounded myself with. A small smile formed on my lips for the first time since I picked up my phone last night.

“No, Winston. But thank you. You’re really too good to me.” I patted the hand that he’d placed on the backrest of the front seat. “I’m good to go in.”

“Of course, miss.” He nodded and got out of the driver’s seat as if he hadn’t just offered to help me run away.

He ushered me into the front hall, where Angelina gathered me in her arms for a quick kiss on my cheek. “My girl. Good to see you.” Her greeting was warm, but her expression was strained. “I’ve been told to take you directly to his office, I’m afraid.” Her smile dimmed.

“I’ll go.” Before she could argue, I’d given her hand a squeeze and headed down the long hallway to my father’s office.

I paused in front of my father’s imposing office door, my knuckles poised to knock. I took a deep breath and tried to convince myself yet again that just because this was an unusual meeting request, it didn’t mean it was going to be as bad as I was imagining.

Right before I knocked, I heard muffled voices coming from inside the office. My spirits rose for a second at the thought that he was dealing with something important and my conversation with him would be cut short.

I rapped my knuckles on the door gently and was granted entrance with my father’s deep voice calling out, “Come in.”

I pushed open the door and stepped right into the middle of his conversation with a youngish man in a designer suit. It was draped over his body too perfectly to be anything but custom.

If he was in a meeting, why had he let me in?

“Ah, Indigo. Yes. Come sit down.” My father stood momentarily, obeying social niceties before waving me to the other empty chair in front of his desk.

I jerked my gaze away from the stranger, hoping my father was going to explain what was going on here.

I could have given Pinocchio a run for his money with the woodenness of my steps. Each joint and ligament worked against one another as I forced myself to take a seat.

“Hello, Father. I hope you are well.” The well-trained social robot had taken over my mouth with the appearance of this man beside me.

“Yes, quite. Thank you. Let me introduce you, Julian.” He’d turned his head toward the man in question, and I mimicked his movement. “Julian Fairbank, this is my daughter, Indigo.”

My eyes were trained on Julian as he smoothed his suit over his abdomen, half getting out of his chair and offering me his hand. Without my conscious direction, my hand met his halfway, and the soft, dry skin of his palm touched mine briefly in a polite squeeze.

“Lovely to meet you, Indigo. Both of our fathers have told me so much about you.” His smile was perfectly practiced, so I couldn’t tell what he really thought behind the calm stare he was aiming my way.

Since I hadn’t heard a damn thing about him before, I offered a simple “thank you” in reply.

“Julian and I were just speaking about the very important fundraisers happening this week. And, well, with his father, Robert, announcing his bid for the Senate next month, we all thought it was time I introduced you two.” My father’s eyes took on a hard glint, a severe warning against saying anything out of line.

“Congratulations. What an exciting time for your family” was the best I could offer. My gaze darted between the two men, desperate to figure out what was going on here.

Julian nodded his thanks while my father continued speaking. “So here’s the itinerary for this week. You will dine out Friday evening, just the two of you, followed by brunch with Robert and Elise and your mother and I on Sunday. There is one nonprofit benefit on Tuesday evening in San Francisco, which we will all attend. And we’ll finish out the week with your father’s campaign fundraiser on Friday evening, Julian.” My father gave the other man a confident smile.

“Sounds right to me, Gerald.” His self-assured tone matched my father’s.

It was clear that nothing was expected of me in this exchange because neither man spared me a glance until Julian stood. Had I been called home just to stand here as a prop? Neither my father nor Julian seemed inclined to enlighten me as to why I had to stand here feeling off-balance while they kept me out of the loop.

“Well, I wish I didn’t have to rush off so soon after we’ve been introduced, but I have a full day at the office with clients who can’t be put off, unfortunately.”

My father and I both followed suit, rising from our seats.

“Of course, Julian. A distinguished corporate lawyer such as yourself knows too well how business never waits for any of us.” My father chuckled like these easygoing chats were somehow a natural part of his personality and not some act.

The men shook hands, and Julian turned to focus exclusively on me. His gaze moved from my face, doing a brief sweep of my body, before he shook my hand again.

“I am really looking forward to getting to know you better in the coming days, Indigo.” A bit of heat slid into the controlled, confident expression in his eyes.

Ick. It was not that he was bad-looking at all, but I had absolutely no interest in any of the hidden implications of his statement.

“Nice to meet you as well, Julian.” Politeness was the only thing on my menu this morning.

I sat back down while my father walked Julian to the door of his office and shut it behind him. He made his way back behind his desk with measured steps.

He took his seat once more and shuffled some of the piles of paperwork on his desk from one side to another while I waited silently.

I’d never been so shocked in my entire life. My mind raced to catch up with the implications of what had just happened.

He picked up a page, scanned it, and then put it down again. He repeated the action three times before he acknowledged I was still in the room.

As much as I wanted to light every solitary piece of paper and the wood of his desk on fire for putting me through the last ten minutes, I held my tongue. I was smarter to figure out his angle first.

He would see my anger as some childish tantrum rather than true outrage at his absolute audacity to spring this meeting on me.

“So that went well.” He took a sip of the coffee on his desk and eyed me over the rim of the cup, assessing. “I’ve known Julian’s father since college. A brilliant man with a doting, supportive wife. Couldn’t ask for a better family. Julian is an excellent choice.” He set his cup back down, still staring at me intently.

“Excuse me, Father.” My voice was rough from the inferno raging inside me and from sitting like a bloody statue while the two men talked around me. “Could you just clarify what Julian is an excellent choice for?”

He wasn’t suggesting… He couldn’t be… Bile rose in my throat. I swallowed hastily to regain control of the urge to be sick.

“Indigo, you are many things. Impulsive, yes. Immature, yes. Na?ve, definitely. But stupid, absolutely not. Julian is the ideal candidate for a husband. ”

I was going to vomit. Had I walked onto the set of Bridgerton unknowingly? A Bront? novel movie adaptation? Was he going to start spouting off about dowries and maidenheads next?

“Marriage? I don’t want to get married.” The thought of marrying someone—in this case, Julian Fairbank—for political or business reasons made me want to flee the country. Hell, maybe the continent.

Time to brush up on that high school French, girl. You can change your name and never have to deal with any of this. Would Theo consider running away to Paris with me?

“Of course marriage,” he snapped. “You’re twenty-five years old, directionless, and a Layne!” A vein in his forehead became raised with how hard he was frowning.

“I’m not directionless. I have huge plans to start a nonprofit. I’ve been planning it for years.”

An inheritance that was still eight months away.

“See!” He slapped his palm on his desk angrily. “That is what I’m talking about. You are so na?ve that you think you can make all these unrealistic dreams come true just because you like the idea of something. The Layne family donates millions of dollars to charities every year. We do not run them.” His last words came out on a sneer.

“Aligning ourselves with other well-placed families through marriage is the way to maintain our place in the world. To maintain the status and influence our family has achieved for generations.” His eyes locked on mine. “Now, it is your turn to do your duty to this family. You’ve spent years messing around, achieving nothing while pursuing your little tutoring hobby in Amado. And I’ve allowed it. It’s time to grow up and live up to the responsibilities of this family’s legacy. Beyond doing it for your inheritance, as your family, you simply owe us this loyalty.”

“But…” My mind was reeling after having my lifestyle and goals co mpletely shredded with a few harsh words. Did he really think so little of me that he hadn’t actually cared what I’d done with my life these last several years?

“No ‘buts,’ Indigo. You will go out with Julian two evenings from now. You will summon every ounce of propriety and charm you can excavate from your upbringing, and you will wow him. You will show him how lucky he is to be in the presence of a Layne. And you will reinforce his wise decision to follow me and his father’s directions regarding this match. Or you will regret it, I guarantee you. My assistant will contact you with the details of your reservation. Now, go.”

His eyes narrowed when he looked at me, and he used his free hand to point at his door.