4. Sterling
CHAPTER 4
Sterling
A s soon as the woman’s gone, I’m looking down at the quiet five-year-old at my side. I lean down so we’re eye level, giving him my best disappointed expression. He avoids my eyes, making it clear he’s aware he did something wrong.
“What have we said about talking to strangers, Sean?” I ask.
“You said I shouldn’t do that,” he replies.
“So you remember? Good. Now explain to me why were you talking to her?”
He shrugs. “She didn’t look like a bad person. And she’s pretty.”
I pause at that. Now that I think about it, she was pretty, with her shiny blonde hair and dainty doll-like face. I’ve never met Emilia Cameron before but I have heard about her. Carson’s long-lost sister.
She’s fiery. I think back to how she stood her ground, her blue eyes meeting mine head on, something even some grown men are unable to do.
“Pretty people can be bad people, too,” I tell Sean. “Just don’t do that again. If you see a stranger, don’t talk to them. Just walk away.”
I’m actually surprised he engaged in a conversation with her. Sean’s a socially reserved kid. He mostly keeps to himself, playing with his toys or reading a book.
“Okay, Daddy. Can I go play now?” he asks hopefully.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You and I will go and greet our guests. I’ve kept them waiting long enough.”
His nose wrinkles. “Do I have to?”
I smile. He really does not like hanging out with other people.
“But the pretty woman from earlier will be there, too,” I point out to provide some incentive.
It works because his expression brightens. “Okay, I’ll go.”
It would seem Emilia Cameron is the exception when it comes to his feelings about human interaction. Interesting. He slips his hand into mine as I lead him to the living room. The Cameron siblings are there, standing in a half-circle and whispering about something.
If I was a betting man I’d say Emilia’s informing them about our interaction. She’s gesturing wildly with a frown on her face. I look from her to her brother, who’s listening to her with a shit-eating grin.
Carson Cameron is, frankly, an idiot. But he’s an idiot I’ve known my whole life. We grew up together, and most of my childhood memories involve Carson in one way or another. He’s also a genuinely good person with a good heart. Growing up, kindness was a quality most of my family members, other than my father, didn’t appreciate. But being around Carson helped to ensure I didn’t turn out to be a completely unfeeling dick.
Although I’m sure some people would not agree with that.
Anika notices me first, and I double-take at the sight of her. The awkward teenager I knew back when I used to live in Edenton definitely grew up. I can’t help a small smile as she squeals, walking toward me and Sean.
“Hey stranger,” she says excitedly, her ponytail swinging.
“Anika Cameron,” I greet with a small smirk. “Look who decided to grow up. I see you finally stopped wearing those weird glasses.”
“I see you haven’t changed much, jerk. I’d offer to hug you if I didn’t know you have an aversion to human contact,” she returns.
Carson speaks up then. “It’s a good thing I don’t care about that.”
Before I can react, he’s striding over, enveloping me in a bear hug. I tense at first before relaxing into the embrace. I return the gesture, patting his back with a semblance of affection.
“Nice to see you haven’t changed, Cameron,” I say warmly.
He pulls back, his hands resting on my shoulders as he studies me. I can see in his eyes that he wants to ask how I am and all that cheesy shit, but I break the eye contact to gesture to the small human who’s doing his best to pretend he’s invincible at my side.
“This is my son, Sean,” I introduce.
Sean shifts closer to my side, but I rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Both Camerons’ eyes are soft when they land on my son.
“Bud, this is my friend Carson, and that’s Anika, his little sister,” I tell him.
Carson leans down to offer him his hand for a shake. “Nice to meet you, little man. I’m Carson. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I haven’t heard a lot about you,” Sean replies easily.
I inwardly groan at that. Carson chuckles.
“Oh yeah? I wouldn’t be surprised, knowing your dad. There’s probably a lot he hasn’t told you but it’s cool. Now that you’ve met your Uncle Carson, I’ll tell you everything. Ever heard of vampires?”
Anika slaps her brother’s shoulder. “Dude, he’s five.”
“What?
They start bickering like they always do, and I’m glad to see that’s also something that hasn’t changed. I tune them out, my gaze going to the last Cameron sibling. The unfamiliar one. She’s hanging back, an awkward expression on her face. When her eyes meet mine, she offers me a small close-lipped smile.
Carson must notice that small interaction because he rises, moving to stand beside me.
“Em said you both already met,” he states. “But I’ll make the introductions anyway. Emilia’s my long-lost sister. She moved to town about a year after you left.”
I nod once. “Nice to meet you, Emilia.”
“I can’t tell if that’s a lie or not,” she murmurs.
Beside me, her brother chuckles. “Sterling’s a pretty honest man, muffin. If he says it’s nice to meet you, then it’s nice to meet you.”
“Fine.” She steps forward, her hand lifting in the space between us. “I’m sorry again for ‘trespassing.’”
I smirk, shaking her hand, which is dainty and warm in mine. “It’s alright, Emilia. Water under the bridge.”
She offers me a brighter smile at that and I feel the awkward air between us dissipate. Emilia Cameron seems like a formidable woman. I don’t know her story, but something about the way she carries herself tells me she’s had to make her way through the world with a certain type of strength.
I like that, respect it even.
It doesn’t take long before Sean is asking to be excused. I allow him, and once he’s gone, the Camerons and I settle down on the couches. We’re served refreshments and then we get to talking. Or should I say, they get to talking. Anika and Carson carry most of the conversation, each of them telling me about their lives in the past few years. Carson and I met once or twice in New York but, living in different cities, I haven’t really had the chance to catch up with him.
Emilia’s mostly quiet, which makes me curious about her. I think she has a big personality of her own, but in the face of her siblings’ louder personalities, she just blends into the background. It’s pretty clear the three of them share a close bond, though. Anika must really like having a big sister; I remember how she used to follow Carson and me around all the time when she was little, demanding to be included.
The Camerons end their visit quickly. Carson still has to return to Greenville where his business is located, but he promises to hang out for longer during the weekend when he’s in town. I say goodbye to my childhood friend and his sisters, grateful for the visit but a little bit glad to be on my own again.
Sean definitely gets his antisocial personality from me.
A familiar hum of activity greets me as soon as I step into the Edenton branch of Harrington Holdings. I took my grandfather’s advice and accepted a position as executive manger here. Mostly because I haven’t not worked since I was in college. And with everything going on, a break from work is the last thing I need. I wouldn’t even know what to do with the free time. Except maybe overthink my existence.
The office, though more modest than our main headquarters, maintains an air of professionalism. Employees glance up from their workstations, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension. I waste no time in gathering the department heads for a meeting in the conference room. Once everyone is seated, I begin.
“I’ve reviewed our recent performance metrics, and there are several areas requiring immediate improvement.”
Handing out copies of the latest reports, I highlight concerns. “Our sales figures have declined by eight percent over the last quarter, and project completion times have increased by an average of two weeks. These trends are unacceptable. We need to streamline our operations and boost efficiency. I expect weekly progress updates from each department.”
The team members nod, diligently taking notes. I’m sure they’ve heard about my reputation and are fully aware of the standards I uphold.
Midway through the meeting, the head of acquisitions, who introduced herself earlier as Lisa Briggs, speaks up.
“Mr. Harrington, I feel the need to inform you about a potential investment opportunity we’ve been evaluating. There’s a parcel of land on Maple Street that we’re been hoping to acquire. It’s occupied by a couple of small businesses and could be advantageous for our expansion plans.”
I lean back, considering the information. “Have we approached the business owners about this?”
“We’ve initiated discussions with some, but we anticipate the owner of the coffee shop might be especially resistant. I personally know her and she has a strong attachment to the place,” she responds.
Nodding thoughtfully, I decide, “Understood. I’ll handle the negotiations with her personally. It’s crucial we approach this delicately to ensure a smooth acquisition.”
There are nods of agreement all around. As the meeting concludes, I feel a renewed sense of purpose. Elevating the Edenton branch’s performance is imperative, and this potential land acquisition could be a strategic move in that direction.
After the meeting, I return to my office and pull up the property details for the parcel on Maple Street. The coffee shop, Emilia’s Café, stands out as the centerpiece of the lot. My eyebrows rise as I read the name of the shop.
Emilia?
I make a call asking for more information on the owner of the café and my suspicions are confirmed. It would seem the newest Cameron and I are meant to keep running into each other.
Later that evening, I decide it might be prudent to pay the café a visit. A stakeout to gauge the best route for the acquisition. I drive through the familiar streets of Edenton, taking note of just how much has changed and how much of it is still the same.
The town exudes a quaint charm, with its tree-lined avenues and well-persevered architecture. I pass by the local bakery, its windows displaying an array of freshly baked goods, and the old bookstore, its sign slightly faded but still inviting. I used to spend a lot of my time in both those shops as a teenager.
Turning onto Maple Street, I spot the parcel of land in question. Like it was stated in the documents I examined, Emilia’s Café is right in the middle. The exterior is painted a warm, inviting shade, and potted plants adorn the entrance, giving it a homely feel. I park my car across the street and take a moment to observe.
According to the report Lisa Briggs submitted on the café, it hasn’t had a steady stream of customers in a while. Not after the shopping mall that our company recently finished in the town a couple months ago. There shouldn’t be any reason not to sell the place.
Taking a deep breath, I exit the care and cross the street, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee growing stronger with each step. I push open the door and a small bell chimes, announcing my arrival. The interior is cozy, with mismatched furniture that somehow fits together perfectly. Soft music plays in the background, and the walls are adorned with local art.
Behind the counter, Emilia is busy preparing a drink. She has on a white apron and her blonde hair is in a high ponytail that swishes behind her as she moves around behind the counter. She’s attending to a man standing in front of the counter.
She looks up as I approach and our eyes meet. Recognition flickers in her face, followed by surprise.
“Sterling Harrington?” she asks, handing the customer his drink.
He thanks her with a small smile, and after a curt nod in my direction, he exits the shop.
“Emilia Cameron,” I acknowledge her, standing in front of the counter.
She sizes me up a little, blue eyes moving over my face. “So, is there a reason you’re currently in my shop?”
“To buy coffee?” I say it like it’s a question.
She hums in disbelief. “I’m sure there’s a café between here and wherever you came from that you could have bought coffee at. Try again.”
Okay, it’s pretty clear she’s not going to make this easy for me.
“I could be here for a friendly visit,” I suggest.
“Except we’re not friends and I don’t know you. Plus you were pretty awful to me the first time we met.”
“I thought we were past that. You hold grudges, don’t you, Miss Cameron?”
“Yep,” she says, popping the “p” in the word. “And you need to tell me why you’re here.”
I sigh softly. I might as well be direct in my approach. Grandfather always says there’s no point beating around the bush. You just need to conquer it like everything else.
“Okay, so I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I recently took over as the manager of our company’s branch in Edenton. And I was hoping to speak to you about an acquisition the company’s hoping to undertake. The land this café is on happens to be a part of the land we’re hoping to acquire.”
She takes all that in, her brows tugging together. Finally, she seems to piece it all together because her eyes widen. And then she proceeds to surprise me even further when she starts to laugh. I stand there patiently, waiting for her to get over her fit of laughter. I also pretend not to notice how her eyes get brighter when she smiles. It makes her look even more genuine. Beautiful.
“I’m not sure I said anything to provoke that kind of a response. What’s so funny?” I ask when her laughter subsides.
“You are, Mr. Harrington,” she says, wiping at the corner of her eyes. Her voice goes all serious and she makes sure to look me dead in the eye as she says, “There’s no way in hell I’m selling this shop to Harrington Holdings. So whatever it is you want to do or say will ultimately be useless. I’m not giving up this shop.”
My eyes narrow. I’ve always liked a challenge, and if she thinks I’m going to back down from this, then she’s sorely mistaken.