Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“What the bloody hell?” I mumbled. “Lloyd’s? No, that can’t be.”
“Stern Alliance. They’re an American firm…my husband works for them. He’s an engineer and—I’m sorry,” she babbled incoherently. “I’m sorry.”
I gaped at the screen, a whoosh of static in my ears. Americans? That didn’t make sense. “What…what are you saying?”
She was shaking like a leaf, her lips chattering till she finally bit them. “My husband works for Stern. I know you don’t believe in coincidence, but I didn’t know about this…I promise.”
I was having a hard time putting the pieces together. “Explain.”
“Three months ago Paul mentioned that Blower had contacted their New York headquarters. I swear to you, I didn’t think it had anything to do with our acquisition, but the whole thing made me uneasy. I didn’t want to be in the middle of anything, and Paul had already been at the Aberdeen office for a year, so I offered my resignation, found an immediate replacement, and—”
“Stop.” I fixed her with a sharp look and shook my head. “This isn’t your fault, Julia.”
She wiped tears from her eyes and let out a soft sob. “I swear to you, Paul didn’t know anything either.”
“I believe you. Relax. This isn’t the Middle Ages. I don’t condemn by association, and to be perfectly honest, this has nothing to do with you. This is Blower fucking me over…or trying to.” I raked my hand through my hair and paced to the window, unsure how to proceed. An hour ago, my day had been going bloody well. I’d had a gorgeous man in my bed, a headful of starry-eyed ideas about “seeing where things led” between us and now, I was back on the battlefield. “I need to find out what’s going on. Call a meeting immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
I waved her off and stared out at the Thames, my mind whirling in a thousand unpleasant directions. I hadn’t planned on losing. At all. I didn’t have a contingency in place. This was supposed to be mine.
It was tempting to place blame, but I knew Blower wouldn’t share juicy secrets with an engineer based in Aberdeen. And I believed Julia. Moreover, I owed her a debt I couldn’t repay. If she hadn’t panicked and given notice, she wouldn’t have hired Raine and…
Fuck.
I had a bad feeling I was on the verge of losing everything at once.
And by the time I found Raine’s Post-it later that evening, I knew it was over.
18
RAINE
The story broke on Sky News thirty minutes after I left Graham’s office.
Mint and Cooperton had signed a contract with an American firm for an undisclosed sum, rocking the financial world. The stock market was down and analysts were debating the ramifications of the sale throughout Europe.
I understood bits and pieces of the gloom loop. Bottom line…the market didn’t approve, and fingers were pointed at The Horsham Group for not acting in a timely manner. Somewhere in a glass tower across town, Graham was probably mollifying board members and strategizing a way to save the deal or save face or…whatever it was that executives did in a crisis.
I texted a heart emoji and told him to call when he could, but I didn’t hear from him.
And by ten p.m., I was officially worried.
I walked to Grosvenor Square and debated letting myself in to wait for him inside. He’d given me the code and I didn’t think he’d mind, but something held me back. I sat on the stoop instead and brushed up on my knowledge of ancient Egypt for my upcoming interview on my cell.
“Raine.”
I slipped my phone in my pocket and stood, unsure what to say. “I heard. I’m sorry.”
Graham nodded in solemn acknowledgment and opened the door. “Come in.”
He dropped his briefcase on the kitchen island and tugged his tie loose, but kept his coat on. Any other day, I would have sidled into his space to help him get comfortable, pushing fabric aside and unbuttoning his still crisp oxford shirt.
He didn’t want my help tonight.
“Um…hey, if you’d rather be alone, I won’t stay. I just wanted to see you…to make sure you’re okay.”
Graham’s lips twitched at one corner in a vague approximation of a smile. “Thank you. I’m fine.”
“Okay. Have you eaten or—”
“No. I…maybe. I don’t remember. It’s late and it’s been a long day,” he replied stiffly.
A renegade thought crossed my mind that I should have kept the Deverley keys. If I hadn’t been to the office, I wouldn’t have known something was up. I wouldn’t have watched the news and I wouldn’t have hesitated to let myself in or smother him with cajoling platitudes and sex. But I knew he was disappointed, and it kind of broke my heart.
“Can I do anything? Make soup, draw a bath, rub your toes? I give a good foot rub and I—”
“No, thank you. I need to think. And I need to do that alone.”