Chapter 1 #2
I turned, setting my bag carefully on the edge of a nearby chair, unsure if I would be able to respond without my voice betraying my nerves.“No, nothing at all.”
“Alright,” the blonde woman smiled politely, “Mr Charlton will be with you shortly.” She turned after that, then backed away toward the hallway, her heels clinking against the marble floor until it was barely audible.
Now left alone with my thoughts, I made to settle down, but the doors swung open, drawing my attention to them.
I saw the black of a man’s suit as he made his way silently through the parted doors. A compliment made its way to the tip of my tongue as I watched with great admiration as he made his way inside.
My eyes met his, and in an instant, I felt the slight tinge of admiration I had felt a second ago melt into nothingness.
“I’d be damned!” I muttered, my rage doubled as I realized that the last person I wanted to see in this moment was standing right there in front of me, looking annoyingly calm.
His piercing black eyes scanned the room briefly before resting on me, his expression indifferent.
I watched him tuck his hands into the pockets of his pants, his obviously expensive suit glistening under the rays of the sun that poured into the room. The silver hair seemed to glisten as he walked in.
He gave me a thin, courteous nod, unfazed by the obvious animosity crackling between us.
It was he, no doubt about it. The question now was: why is Charles Blackthorne here? That was one question only John Charlton could answer.
As though conjured by my thoughts, the door opened with a soft whir, and he walked in, a file in hand as he strolled almost casually towards us. “Hello Linda.” He gave me a polite smile before sending a nod in Charlton’s direction.
“One too many at this point. I see everyone got an invitation too!” I spat out, doing almost nothing to shield my displeasure.
“Calm down, Lin..” Charles started to say, but I halted him mid-sentence.
“If my name comes out of your mouth, your tongue will fall right out with it.”
He scoffed, shaking off my threat like it meant nothing as he occupied the seat across from me. “Relax, I’m just here to help.”
The sincerity in his tone seemed to trigger me more. Why would he think his help was something he could offer whenever and I would jump at the offer?
“Who would’ve thought that you would find the time to help me? Especially now that I’m in dire need of it.”
“Ms. Montgomery, try to stay calm. There’s no need for all of this back and forth.” I heard Charlton speaking from behind me.
I turned, facing him squarely. “No, I wouldn’t stay calm after you clearly ambushed me. You could’ve given me a heads up at least, let me know what the hell I’m walking into!”
As much as I have thought about it, I could not come up with a valid reason he would ghost me completely, given that he was my father’s closest friend and business partner.
With a relationship like that, you would think he’d be the one to drop everything and show up when needed.
He didn’t, and the worst part is that he had no reason.
He simply couldn’t be bothered by a friend in danger and the cries of his desperate daughter, at least not enough to return a call or proffer solutions.
My chest tightened as tears threatened to spill from my eyes. But I couldn’t let him see me vulnerable. People who hurt you do not get the luxury of watching you suffer.
I blinked back the tears, fighting to pull myself together, my fingers trembling lightly.
I hated this, all of it. My rage threatened to suffocate me as I battled the thought of walking away. But I couldn’t leave, not yet at least. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me concede.
“Well,” I turned to Mr Charlton, “Is there anyone else coming? Your assistant? The cashier at Walmart?” I let out a dry gasp. “Will his murderers be here too, or is this all of it?”
Charlton looked defeated while Charles maintained an annoying calm. The only reaction was the slight hardening of the lines in his face as he looked at me like a child that needed some form of discipline. There was something else in his eyes, something vehemently refused to acknowledge.
It was quite hard to believe that the same man I had reached out to countless times during my father's abduction, only to be met with silence, was here now, claiming to offer the same help I was no longer in need of.
The thought of his betrayal stirred up memories and what if’s?
I still wondered if the outcome would’ve been different if he had stepped in.
Charles was one of the most powerful men I’d had the privilege of meeting.
My father had friends in high places, but something about the grey silver fox always stood out to me.
The way his presence commanded so much authority and people you never thought could obey orders let alone let themselves be bossed by anyone moved to the sound of his voice.
My younger self had felt differently about his effects.
A heated face, tingling sensations and a tight knot in my stomach always accompanied his presence and not to forget the damned racing heart.
At some point in my lowest moments, I had considered the possibility of him being responsible for my father’s abduction; perhaps it had been a desperate move that escalated all too quickly. It was the only thing that would explain his radio silence, but even that didn’t make sense to me.
Charles didn’t seem like the type to backbite and play stupid games. The little I knew of him made me know he wasn’t the demon that haunted your dreams; he was the devil who made sure you spent your waking hours aware of his presence in your life.
I didn’t know much, but I knew he was someone no one wanted to mess with, and for some unexplainable reason, I trusted him to be good, mostly because my father did. Still, I couldn’t shake off his betrayal.
“My sincerest apologies for that, but Mr Charles himself insisted on being present, and seeing that he’s briefly mentioned in the will and a good friend of your father, it wasn’t something I could refuse him. We needed a witness too”
I took note of the subtle message hidden behind the carefully constructed words. My lack of siblings and close relatives, but I refused to let myself be swallowed by that.
Choosing to return my attention to Charles. Anger was easy; anger grounded you and kept you distracted from the ache that sought to drain your soul. Anger gave you something to work with, unlike the crippling effects of grief.
“Quite convenient how you pick and choose when to show up, don’t you think?”
“Charlton,” He said, acting as if the harsh fangs of my words didn’t get to him, let alone scratch the surface of his well-pressed suit.
I wondered how he managed to do that—maintain a stoic appearance. It is as though his face has been trained to give away nothing.
I thought back briefly to when I was a lot younger, a teenager at best. I often wondered if he smiled, or if he was in a permanently awful bad mood.
Mr Charlton cleared his throat, drawing our attention. "Let's get started, shall we?"
But I wasn't ready to let go of the past just yet. There were questions I needed to ask and things I had to get off my chest.
I asked simply, “Why?”
How was it possible that they could spend their entire lifetime thick as thieves and yet Charles couldn’t spare the time to say a final goodbye?
“I thought you cared,” I found myself saying, my voice breaking at intervals, betraying my faux composure, “My father considered you a friend and I thought I could too.”
I scoffed, “Did you do it for the money? Or because you thought his death or absence would help you secure parts of your joint business?”
His eyes shot up, hard and stormy. A chill went through me as I stared deep into the onyx orbs. Regardless, I gave myself a mental fist bump for getting a reaction out of him.
“You think I would waste so much energy on tangible things?”
The hate that boiled inside me was enough to cause an explosion if I let it go off, but even in my rage, I could see the tabloids clearly. “Therapist lets go of emotions and causes chaos in lawyer’s office.”
The media would definitely eat it up. After my father’s burial, they’ve been sniffing around like dogs, looking for the next blockbuster write-up. I refuse to let Charles take anything from me.
Instead, I smiled. "Finally, a reaction. With a speech like that, one would think you cared about intangible things like loyalty. Could’ve fooled me”
He was going to say something but seemed hesitant, his lips twitching with uncertainty.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke. “I like that you’re finding healthy ways to manage your emotions. I would offer to be your emotional punch bag, but it’ll be bad manners to keep the good lawyer waiting.”
Again, with that tone, that made me feel like a hormonal teenager while he was the well-regulated adult that knew far more than I did.
I felt a wave of disappointment skitter down my spine. I had expected him to say something, anything at all that would help me not stay mad. I wanted a reason, or at least, an excuse. I would’ve settled with him being defensive of everything I had accused him of just now.
But what he had said was far from my expectations, fading every last part of me that needed an explanation.
“Do you at least feel an ounce of shame?”
My voice trailed off. In that moment, I felt myself crumbling into small pieces, the tears threatening to burst out of me any moment. It felt like I was grieving all over again.
I pressed my trembling lips together in a bid to calm myself. I could not afford a breakdown.
Charles's expression remained calm, but I saw a flicker of something in his eyes for the first time. Regret? Guilt? I didn't care. I just wanted to leave and be done. "Let's just get this over with," I said finally, my voice firm, despite the turmoil rocking my insides.
I couldn’t keep screaming at a brick wall; it was of no use. I drew in a deep breath, pulled my bag closer as I looked away from him.
Mr Charlton nodded, his lips forming words I couldn’t hear over the noise of my emotions. He began the proceedings, his voice loud and deliberate as he shuffled through the paperwork, pausing to look at me whenever my name was mentioned in the document.
A sense of dread lingered in the air as I listened, willing myself to stay calm.