Chapter Three #2
“Not as much as surviving on the West Island.” It’s what the Australians call New Zealand.
“Don’t make me report you to immigration, convict,” I warn, and he snorts.
Halfway to the car, I stop. “I need to pop into the pharmacy. Will you wait here?”
“Nope.”
Gritting my teeth, I walk off, toward the chemist at the end of the street, knowing he’s following me. When we get to the door, I stop and turn.
“I’d like you to wait here,” I tell him. “I want to talk to the pharmacist about something private, and I don’t want the whole security team knowing.”
He fixes me with a steady gaze. “They can’t hear or see anything unless I want them to. I’d never betray your confidence, ma’am. I hope you know that.”
“I do feel reassured by that, but I’d much rather you not be listening either!”
He narrows his eyes, then huffs. “All right. I’ll wait by the door.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Leaving him standing by the door, I go into the shop.
I take a few minutes to browse the shelves, picking up some hairspray and a pack of Panadol I don’t really need.
I go to the back of the shop and pay for it.
Then I glance over my shoulder. He’s standing to one side of the doorway, watching the street.
Smirking, I slip out of the back entrance he obviously wasn’t aware of and head up the road.
I’m just about to use the crossing when I feel a presence at my elbow.
“It’ll be quicker to use the car,” Luke says.
I glare at him. “How did you know where I was?”
“I suspected the pharmacy was a woman’s ruse. It’s the equivalent of saying you’re on your period to get out of gym class.” When I lift an eyebrow, he adds, “Remember the two nieces?”
Irritably, I turn, and we walk back to the car. This might turn out to be more difficult than I thought.
We get in, and Luke heads off to the Ashford offices.
I concentrate on my phone during the journey, and he doesn’t say anything.
After he’s parked, we get out, and I head for the offices with him at my side.
There’s a skeleton staff on today as many of them take the Christmas week off.
I study my phone as we take the elevator up, and then the doors open and I walk out into the second-floor reception.
Carol, the receptionist, sits behind a desk facing the waiting area. My eyebrows rise as I see a huge bouquet of red roses sitting on the desk.
“Wow, they’re beautiful.” I go up to them, but before I can reach them, Luke puts out a hand to stop me.
“When did these arrive?” he snaps.
“Just now,” Carol says, surprised. “They’re for Aurelia.”
“Me?” My eyebrows rise.
“I should have been informed,” Luke tells her curtly. His hand is in his pocket—I don’t think he’s talking to her; I think he’s pressing his button. He looks the flowers over, frowning.
“There’s a card,” Carol says helpfully.
I move forward. “Where?”
She gets to her feet. “Oh. It was right there. It must have fallen out when I moved them across the desk.”
We all search the table and the floor, but the card has vanished.
“That’s weird,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I think I know who they’re from.” My stomach flips.
“Who?” Luke asks.
“My ex,” I say flatly, annoyed that I have to tell him. “Dump them in the trash, if you like. I don’t want them.” I turn on my heel and walk off.
I’m supposed to be meeting Dad, Caesar, and Marcus, and I’m late due to the pharmacy shenanigans. They’re already in the boardroom when I arrive, so I push open the glass door and go inside.
“Morning,” they all chorus as I grab a coffee from the table.
I glower at them and plonk myself down into a chair.
“Oh dear,” Dad says. “Something vexes thee?”
“I want to talk to you,” I say to Marcus. “About Luke.”
“Ah,” he says.
“Don’t smirk.” Annoyance flares at the fact that he’s obviously amused, which isn’t helped when Caesar chuckles and Dad smiles. “This is getting ridiculous. I can’t shake the guy.”
“Good,” Marcus says. “That was the plan.”
Frustration swells inside me. “You don’t understand how it feels to have your freedom taken away like this. He even got annoyed because someone didn’t tell him I’d had some roses arrive. I mean, seriously, it’s not like I get lots of weird messages.”
Marcus continues to meet my gaze, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Caesar and my father exchange glances. It was so quick, though, I’m not sure if I imagined it. “What the fuck’s going on?” I demand.
“Aurelia,” Dad scolds.
My throat tightens, and tears sting my eyes.
Marcus snorts. “It’s for your own good, so don’t bring on the waterworks.”
I blink the tears away. He thinks I’m putting them on, even though I’m not.
I’ve cried wolf too often. When I was younger, pleading and tears could get me whatever I wanted, and there was always the option of a tantrum if all else failed.
But he’s grown wise to my ways. Now he suspects any emotion I show to be fabricated.
“It’s not fair,” I say softly. “It’s stifling me, and it’s complete overkill. It doesn’t make sense. Has something happened?”
“No,” Marcus says. “Stop being paranoid. You’re an heiress to a fortune, that’s all.
You’re five-foot-two and weigh as much as a pillow.
You’re always in front of a camera. And with all the fuss around the Rutherford acquisition, we just want to make sure you remain safe from any maniacs who might decide to capitalize on the unsettled situation. ”
“I understand that. I just don’t see why the guy has to be superglued to my ankle.”
“He’s vigilant because I told him to be. I enlightened him with all the ways you tortured previous officers, and I informed him that he needed to make sure the same thing didn’t happen with him. So stop giving the guy a hard time. He’s only doing his job.”
“He’s ex-military, isn’t he?” Caesar asks.
Marcus nods.
I’m interested in spite of myself. “Why did he leave?”
“That’s personal,” he says, “and not my place to say.”
“Oh, don’t act like you have principles,” I scoff. “Come on, the least you can do is give me a bit of background if the guy’s going to be Velcroed to me.”
But he just shakes his head.
“You’re unbearable now you’re getting married,” I tell him crossly. “If Wren has any sense, she’s going to scarper as soon as she gets what she wants.”
His smile fades, and he drops his gaze to the table.
I immediately feel a stab of guilt. When Caesar told us Wren had asked him for a baby, Marcus’s fury and disappointment was written all over his face.
He loves her, but Caesar told me yesterday that although Wren has agreed to marry Marcus, he’s worried she’s only said yes because she wants a baby.
Dad clears his throat and changes the subject. Marcus looks up and our eyes meet, and I mouth, Sorry. His lips curve up then, and he winks at me, so I know he’s forgiven me, but even so, I still feel awful. I love both him and Caesar, and I would never hurt either of them on purpose.
I get up to make myself a coffee, and as I return to the table, my gaze drifts outside through the glass wall.
I can just see reception from here. The bouquet of red roses is still sitting on the desk.
Strange. The office manager doesn’t like flowers sitting in reception as some people are allergic.
I think about the message Dom sent me yesterday.
I miss you. Can we meet for coffee? Just want to chat.
I give a long, quiet sigh. We broke up just before Christmas.
I miss him too, but the relationship had become untenable.
Dom is short for Dominic, but also for dominant, and domineering.
I like a confident, capable man, but when that turned controlling, I had to end it.
It’ll be a mistake to meet him, even if he insists it’s just to catch up.
I hate being single, though. I like coming home to someone.
I miss his presence. And I miss sex. I was very sad when we broke up.
I thought we were going to be together forever.
Is it possible he’s changed? He did send flowers, which is very unlike him.
He’s trying hard. Maybe I should agree to meet him…
Luke is leaning on the reception desk, talking to Carol. As I watch, he picks up the roses and walks away. I frown. Did she ask him to get rid of them?
It doesn’t matter that my spidey senses are tingling, though. Clearly, nobody’s going to tell me anything. I’m going to have to take this into my own hands.
He might have been smart enough to foil my attempts to escape him today, but I have plenty more tricks up my sleeve.