Chapter 2 Aurora
Aurora
I snag the stray dog hair from my pencil skirt with my lint roller, then stuff it into my bag beside an empty tube of crisps seconds before the lift doors slide open.
Fairfax Guardian.
That’s what the gold letters spell out above the long, sleek black reception desk. ‘Devil’s Lair’ would be more accurate. Although, that’s not entirely fair. Not everyone who works here is a total arsehole like their CEO.
I mean, Dove works here. My best friend, who I’ve known since one very random night a couple of years ago that involved a bar, one too many cocktails, and a guy with an orange fake tan named Leroy who didn’t know when to quit.
We’re complete opposites. Dove is a ball-busting career woman who heads her family insurance firm’s contracts that – what were her words?
Oh yeah – ‘insure the hare-brained, crazily brilliant ideas from people and companies no one else in the industry will touch’.
But she loves it. She says innovation never comes from sitting around and doing what’s been done before.
You have to be a trailblazer and be prepared to fail faster than your opponents, so that when you do win . . . well, then you make millions.
She’s the only one of her siblings – and all of them help run the firm – who would want to do what she does. Insurance is all about negating risk. But Dove runs towards it. And her brothers let her because, more often than not, it pays off.
Her brothers. Only one brings a sourness to my mouth. Her other two, Gabriel and Angelo, seem okay the couple of times I’ve briefly met them. And the stories she tells me about them don’t set alarm bells ringing.
But, of course, in every family there’s that one person who you’d gladly wish didn’t exist.
That blot.
That bane on society.
‘Good afternoon. I’m here to meet Dove Fairfax,’ I tell the receptionist sitting behind the immaculate desk.
He flashes me a megawatt smile. Maybe they pump out endorphins through the air filters. Surely no one can be that happy working under him.
‘Who should I tell her is calling?’
‘Aurora Thorne.’
‘One moment, please.’ He presses a button on his keyboard, before talking into his headset. ‘Miss Fairfax, I have an Aurora Thorne here for you.’ He pauses. ‘Of course.’
He looks at me. ‘She’ll only be a few minutes. Please take a seat.’
‘Thank you.’
I head to the waiting area, which is overpowered by a giant concrete table in the centre. I sink into one of the plush seats surrounding it and scan the meticulously displayed financial magazines and papers on the cold grey surface.
My eyes snag on a glossy insurance magazine. There are more copies of it than any of the other titles and I scoff as the reason why becomes apparent.
The object of my disgust is taking up the front cover, filling out his perfectly tailored designer suit and standing with one hand in his pocket like a self-entitled prick. His rich, amber-flecked eyes glow like he’s thinking about a billion and one ways he can ruin you and come out on top.
Emblazoned on the cover beside his image is their company slogan.
Protecting the priceless. Providing you peace.
An exclusive interview with Fairfax Guardian’s CEO, Rafael Fairfax.
I snort, earning myself a quizzical look from the receptionist as I pick up the magazine.
The only peace Rafael Fairfax knows are the lies he tells himself about him being a good man with integrity.
Arsehole.
‘Hey, AJ,’ a guy calls, passing the desk on his way out. ‘Thanks for fixing those reports. See you in the morning.’
‘No problem, Gabe.’
Dove’s brother stops as he spots me. ‘Hello, Aurora. Dove said you were dining together this evening.’
‘We are.’ I smile as I stand to greet him, but my attention’s caught by the baby sling tied to his front.
‘Benedict prefers to travel like this. It takes the weight off his hips,’ Gabriel says easily.
I smile politely, schooling my surprise at the sight of not a baby but a ginger cat bundled inside the carrier. He surveys me with luminous green feline eyes that hold a surprising air of authority.
‘Um, he looks very . . . comfortable.’
Gabriel smiles, his warm eyes crinkling behind his Clark Kent glasses.
My cheeks heat a little. He’s beautiful.
Tall and broad. Short dark hair. Perfectly proportioned cheekbones and angular jaw.
And he smells incredible. The Fairfax male genes in full force, leaving little hope for the rest of the male population.
He massages Benedict behind one ear and the cat’s eyes narrow into drugged slits as he purrs loudly. ‘He is. He’ll be asleep before we leave the building, I guarantee it.’
He grins at the cat with the pride I’d expect on the face of a parent of a child prodigy, before he looks up at me. ‘Nice to see you, Rory.’
‘You too,’ I say, listening to the cat’s retreating purrs as they leave.
‘They’re so adorable together,’ the receptionist comments.
‘Oh, yeah,’ I agree, taking my seat again and biting back my smile.
My father will love hearing about a cat in a baby carrier.
I can almost hear his warm chuckle now. My smile falters.
I haven’t heard it in a while. Each time I’ve visited him over the past months I’ve grown more worried.
I know he puts on a brave face for me, but I can see right through it. I know him.
My eyes drop to the magazine in my hand, and I stare at the man on the cover. He, however, doesn’t know my father.
‘I haven’t forgotten what you said,’ I spit under my breath, glaring at his face.
‘She’s the daughter of George Thorne, a criminal who defrauded the company he worked for, stealing millions, and almost causing the collapse of several firms as a result.’
‘Oh my God,’ the beautiful woman with him had gasped. ‘What happened to him?’
‘He’s in prison, where he belongs, eating slop and panicking if he drops the soap,’ Rafael grunted. ‘Best bloody place for scum like him.’
His words are etched into my brain. I’d come to meet Dove after work, a few weeks after my father lost his trial and was sentenced.
Rafael had greeted me as he exited the lift with his date on his arm, asking what I was doing there with more than a hint of suspicion in his tone.
It was laughable really, because the first time we met, when Dove introduced us, he was nothing but polite – even friendly.
Especially once he learnt that my father was an investment manager who worked for a prestigious London firm he was familiar with.
I know his type. He’s a man who only knows how to behave with a modicum of class when he thinks there is something in it for him.
Bile rises up my throat and I tighten my grip on the magazine as I pull out a black marker from my bag. He probably thinks I didn’t hear what he said to his date that day. Somehow I doubt he’d care even if he knew.
The thing that stings the most is the way my father’s face had lit up when I’d told him who Dove’s older brother was, and that Rafael had shown an interest in meeting my father one day.
He’d glowed, like being on Rafael Fairfax’s radar was an honour.
He even proceeded to regale me with Rafael’s business accomplishments and tell me how much he had achieved for such a young CEO in the insurance business.
How he had won larger and larger clients, including a global diamond jewellery business, airline, and hotel chain.
My father spoke with respect and awe for someone he saw as a fellow businessperson. Whereas ever since the trial, Rafael Fairfax spat out words laced with disgust and superiority for someone he hadn’t even met.
‘Rory? I’m so sorry!’
Dove rushes past the reception desk towards me with a flushed face, pulling on her coat.
‘It’s fine, I’ve only been here a few minutes,’ I reply, tucking my pen away and sliding the magazine underneath another one before rising to greet her.
She flings her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug.
Dove’s immaculate in her power suits and tailored workwear.
Grown men sweat when she walks into meeting rooms. But with her friends and family she’s softer than the cosiest sweater straight out of the tumble dryer.
However, in all the time I’ve known her, she’s never so much as glanced in a man’s direction.
She’s got all this love and affection but won’t share it outside of her close circle of those she trusts.
‘Did you see Gabe?’ she asks. ‘I wanted to catch him, but he left already.’
‘I did. And Benedict.’
Dove unwinds a beautiful silk scarf from around her neck, tucking it inside her bag. ‘Was he in the baby sling?’
I giggle. ‘Yeah.’
She rolls her eyes with a smile. ‘My brothers aren’t insane, I promise you.
Just . . . protective over those they care about.
And Gabe is . . .’ She tilts her head, her eyes twinkling.
‘. . . resourceful. He claims the sling is for Benedict’s benefit, but I swear he loves carrying him around in it just as much as Benedict likes to be pandered to, if not more. ’
‘When did he get him—?’
My cat curiosity is cut off as a striding force of dark blue suit topped with wavy chestnut hair exits the lift, making a beeline for the reception desk.
The man sitting behind it straightens. ‘Mr Fairfax,’ he greets.
‘AJ, did you send Miss Jones the red roses I requested?’
‘Two dozen, as instructed,’ AJ replies.
‘Hm, good,’ the broad, suited arsehole replies, before his attention is ripped away by movement outside the window.
‘The window cleaners came late today,’ AJ comments, his eyes ping-ponging between the two cheery-looking men outside washing down the windows in their special crane, and the stiffened form staring at them, colour draining from his cheeks.
Rafael clears his throat, tearing his eyes from the window. ‘Ridiculous way to clean the goddamn windows.’
‘Are you okay, sir?’ AJ asks.
‘I’m bloody well fine,’ he snaps.
‘You don’t look so good,’ AJ continues. ‘Is it your h—?’