C C
We sat in stunned silence. “So…she was the one who wanted us to break up?” I said eventually. “But why? Maybe it was something to do with the deal.”
James shrugged. “My guess is as good as yours. I don’t know how she got to Joseph, but I do know that he hates you and your family, and with monetary reward involved, he’d jump at the chance.” He sighed. “He wasn’t always like this. He was…better.”
My mind went back to the photo I’d seen, of James, Joseph, and his brother and sister. “Better?” I prompted.
James exchanged glances with Caiden, unspoken words flying between them. Regret, apology, anger—I looked between them, fascinated. “Before the rivalry between our families stepped up, and his brother paid the ultimate price. He was…maybe not a good guy, but he was less…”
“I get what you’re saying.” I leaned forwards, still grasping Caiden’s hand. My aim, now, wherever possible, was total honesty. I was sick of all the lies and secrets. “I saw the photo and I heard about his brother, and his sister being sent away. I know words aren’t enough, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “Thank you. Our family has never been the same since then. But now isn’t the time or place to talk about it.”
“Yeah.” One word from Caiden, packed with so much meaning and intent that the subject was immediately dropped.
A thought pushed its way forwards from the back of my mind. “My mother mentioned something at that gathering thing at your dad’s house. Something about me dressing more appropriately day-to-day. I bet you anything that this is what she meant. I bet Joseph was sending her photos of me.” I frowned. “I haven’t noticed anyone following me.”
James’ lips flattened as he gathered his thoughts. “It probably would’ve mostly been around the university campus, when he had access to you. He wouldn’t risk going near your house.”
“And you didn’t know anything about this? Because it would’ve been quite easy for you to feed back information to him, with us being friends.”
He shook his head emphatically, his gaze open. “I swear to you, that the extent of my involvement was the kiss. Joseph came to me and said that I had to do this, and when I voiced my concern, he…” He swallowed hard. “He used other methods of persuasion. I never wanted to hurt you, you know that.”
Maybe I was being stupid and naive, but I believed him.
“I believe you,” Caiden suddenly said, and both James’ and my eyes widened in shock. “I think you’ve proven that you have Winter’s best interests at heart, with saving her and all.” He growled the words out through gritted teeth, as if they pained him. “If you fuck anything else up…” He let the words trail off, his threat hanging heavy in the air.
“I get that. I won’t let Winter down.” James glanced at me, his lips turning up at the corners in the barest hint of a smile, before he opened his bag, shoving the tablet back inside. “Thank you for giving me a chance.” He took a deep breath, visibly composing himself. “Anyway, I need to get going. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?”
“Just keep an eye out, and if you hear anything relating to any of this, I’d appreciate it if you let us know.”
He nodded, his eyes meeting Caiden’s. “I’ll have to stay away from you on campus. Can’t have anyone thinking we’re hanging out and Joseph getting wind of it.”
Caiden snorted. “We’re not friends, not even fucking close. No danger of that.”
“Course not,” James muttered, before adding something else under his breath that wasn’t very complimentary, if Caiden’s hostile glare was anything to go by.
“Thanks, James,” I said, squeezing Caiden’s hand warningly. “I appreciate everything. And I can’t get over the fact you saved my life.”
He stood, shrugging off my thanks. “You’re welcome. See you around.” Then he was gone, leaving me with my brooding boyfriend, my head spinning.
FIFTEEN
I pulled my R8 into the car park of Skirmish, seeing my dad’s car already there. He climbed out at the same time Weston and I did, still in his suit, looking every inch the successful, confident businessman that he was.
“Afternoon. Caiden, Weston,” he greeted us. “I have to say, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when you suggested we get together. I assumed we’d be playing golf.”
Golf.
Weston screwed up his face. “No, thanks, Dad. You know I don’t like golf.”
We headed into the building, the automatic doors opening with a soft whirr as we neared them.
“Do you want to know a secret?” My dad turned to Weston conspiratorially. “I used to hate golf, too. But I’ll give you the same advice my father gave me. Some of the most important business deals are made on the golf course, not in the boardroom. Remember that.”
Weston eyed him with all the care of someone for whom business didn’t even feature on their radar. “I see.”
“You have to understand, it’s an important part of business. My initial De Witt negotiations were hashed out over a round of golf.”