Chapter 32
Iam so nervous. Despite the designer clothing providing me with a false sense of power, I am intimidated by my surroundings and definitely suffering from imposter syndrome. I can’t help fingering the pendant that Valentin secured around my neck, remembering the way his fingers trailed across it and his soft whisper of what he wanted to do to me tonight grazed like silk across my soul. I’m like a lovesick schoolgirl whenever he is around and as my phone rings, it breaks the spell with harsh reality.
“Polly, darling. I’ve secured us a table. The waiter will show you to where I’m sitting. Just tell him who you’re meeting.”
I whisper, “I won’t be long,” and place the phone inside the leather bag that Valentin added to the shopping haul. I don’t even want to consider how much it cost because I recognize the brand and would never be able to afford one if I saved for my entire life.
As I follow the waiter to a table set at the end of the terrace, a smart woman sits alone. She is dressed entirely in white and her make-up is heavy. Her hair is well-styled and yet her eyes are like steel probes regarding my approach.
Her smile is huge, but there is something off about her and I can already tell she is ruthless just from the way she presents herself.
It’s as if she studies every inch of me as I approach and I thank God for the wardrobe because these clothes give me a confidence I would never wear inside my own.
“Pollyanna, darling. How gorgeous you look.”
She stands and approaches, kissing me on both cheeks and then stands back to appraise me with a critical eye.
“I can see you are enjoying your inheritance. Good for you.”
Her words annoy me, but I’m relieved at the same time. I don’t want her to discover the real reason I stand before her in these clothes. She would look at me with a different expression and would probably be right. I’ve whored my body out for material possessions. I’m aware that isn’t really the case, but it’s my sad truth and Valentin must never discover how I really feel about him because then he would wrap this up and be on his way, probably leaving the door wide open for that assassin to dispose of the needy.
“Please, take a seat. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering some champagne.”
She grins. “Possibly not the best choice considering the reason we are here, but I’m of the mind that champagne always makes everything better.”
I nod politely, wondering if I should tell her I hate the taste, but I spy a carafe of water on the table, which will suffice for me.
“So, Polly, may I call you that?”
“Of course.” I smile nervously, and she shakes her head.
“Such an awful thing to happen. Poor Veronica. To be the victim of such a terrible accident is heartbreaking for everyone who knew her.”
“Were you good friends?” I’m mildly interested in her history with my aunt and she nods vigorously.
“Yes. We went to school together.”
“You did?” I’m surprised because it’s obvious Marsha is American, whereas Aunt Veronica was most definitely British.
“Yes, we studied together at the Raymond Institute in Switzerland. Some call it a finishing school. I called it prison.”
She rolls her eyes as the waiter brings the menus, and our conversation halts as we make our selections.
I opt for a simple dish of spaghetti marinara, and Marsha selects various different dishes of pasta with a wink. “The portions here are more like tapas, darling. We can try it all without compromising our waistline. We will share. I’ve always been a staunch believer in sharing.”
“Thank you.” I’m not sure what else to say and as the waiter departs, she raises her glass with a soft, “To Veronica. May her soul rest in peace.”
“To Aunt Veronica.”
Our glasses touch and as we take a sip of our drinks, I shudder at the taste, but do a good job of disguising it. As I set my glass down, she drains hers and reaches for the bottle.
As she fills her glass to the top, she sighs heavily. “Yes, finishing school was hard to endure, but I made long-lasting friendships that have stood the test of time.”
“That must be nice.”
I shift on my seat awkwardly, and she leans forward and smiles. Her eyes piercing mine as she says with a slight shake of her head. “Which is why I asked you here.”
My heart beats a little faster as she whispers, glancing around as if afraid of being overheard.
“Your dear aunt was like a sister to me and would expect me to offer you the hand of friendship in your time of need.”
“That’s kind of you.” I’m awkward around her and I’m not sure why because she is being so kind, but there is something distrustful in her eyes that I can’t figure out.
“May I ask what you are doing for work, Polly?”
“I’m a copywriter. I work from home.” I answer, grasping the water glass and drinking slowly.
“How will your inheritance affect that, my dear? You now own two expensive houses that are expensive to maintain. Money will be tight.”
“I haven’t figured that out.” I shrug, not really prepared to discuss my affairs with this woman and luckily the food arrives providing a welcome distraction.
We help ourselves and I must admit I love it here. The view of London is breathtaking and the food sublime and, as I eat, I wish I was here with Valentin rather than the slightly strange Marsha Steele.
After a while, she returns to the subject and fixes me with a keen eye.
“I may be able to offer a solution to your money woes.”
“Really?”
I’m surprised, and she nods, glancing around before leaning in and whispering, “I run a discreet service for rich men. Nothing underhand, just providing companions to escort them for the evening.”
She smiles warmly. “You would be the perfect choice and the pay is rather generous. If you would like more information, I can provide everything you need and the money would be more than enough to pay for the upkeep of your two homes.”
“Oh. Um, thank you.”
I don’t really know what to say because it doesn’t sound like the job for me and she must sense that because she changes direction.
“Your aunt was one of my employees.”
I stare at her in surprise and she nods, realizing she now has my full attention.
“Yes, she was part of my garden of roses as I call them and the money was used for the upkeep of her homes. She was extremely selective, though, and soon became the firm favorite of one gentleman in particular. Subsequently, she only accompanied him and they struck up quite the friendship. Sadly, he died a few weeks before her own demise and now they are together in the afterlife.”
Marsha‘s expression is somber as she sighs. “It was such a tragedy. They were so in love too, although the gentleman was unfortunately trapped in a loveless marriage and Veronica was his only light in a storm.”
My heart sinks when I hear her describe Valentin’s father and his relationship with my aunt, and I don’t know how I’m going to tell him what she said. It will kill him inside. I already know that and yet I don’t have long to dwell on that as Marsha shakes her head and sighs.
“Well, the offer is there, my darling, and of course I want to help you in your time of need, but if it’s not for you, there is another way.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
I’m confused by this whole conversation and her eyes flash as she says airily, “I am interested in buying Thorn House.”
She must register the shock on my face because she says quickly, “I’ve always loved the property and am currently searching for a country house for my business activities. I’m branching out into exclusive parties that I run, instead of my members and Thorn House would be perfect. It’s private, discreet and large enough to accommodate several guests and is perfectly placed in the center of the country.”
She studies my reaction and I attempt to maintain a blank expression that she obviously takes as an encouraging sign and smiles broadly. “I will pay you ten percent above the market value out of respect for my dear friend, Veronica. You will have enough money to maintain Briar House in London and rebuild the Cornwall home knowing that Thorn House is in the loving hands of somebody who cares for it as much as dear Veronica did. What do you say? Do we have a deal?”
Honestly, the last thing I want to do is sell Thorn House and especially to this woman for her dubious business activities. Then there’s the job offer from hell she spoke about. I’m not naive enough to believe these men only require a companion for the night. I’m not stupid and realize that money would be hard earned indeed. I’m not interested in any of her suggestions but I am interested in the motive behind them and so I say carefully, “Your offer is most generous, both of them and I will need time to think them over.”
She nods, as if in agreement, but I note the flash of anger light her eyes that she tries to conceal with a false smile.
“I am in the country for three more days. Perhaps we could meet at Thorn House tomorrow to discuss this further. Say ten am. I can offer you a ride up there and collect you at Briar House if that’s easier for you.”
“Thank you. I’ll give you my answer tonight when I’ve had time to think about it.”
I try to control my breathing and say, “You’ve given me a lot to think of, and you must forgive me for giving it careful consideration. I’ve only just learned that I now own two expensive properties, and it’s a lot to take in.”
“Of course, I understand.”
She pours herself another glass of champagne and nods toward my still full glass.
“Please, Polly, join me in a toast to new friends and absent ones. May we enjoy the same close friendship as the one I enjoyed with your amazing aunt. This is exactly what she would have wanted. Her oldest friend taking care of her niece. She will be beaming with approval from heaven as we speak.”
Once again, I raise my glass to hers but know in my heart I will never meet with her again. There is something so incredibly dangerous about this woman. It settles around her like toxic gas and is choking me inside. It’s as if she is trying to steal my soul and I shiver as we touch glasses. Her eyes bore into mine with a strength that scares the shit out of me because I doubt she is the type of woman who doesn’t react well to the word no.