Being Mrs. Cane (Cane 3.5)

“Eden,” I bellowed, stepping around the desk and extending my arm to offer a hand.

“Mr. Cane,” she said in response, grabbing my hand and shaking it. She looked deep into my eyes, a smirk on her lips. “You look great.”

“As do you.” I released her hand, gesturing to the chairs behind my desk. “Sit, please,” I said, walking back to my chair. She sat first, and I placed my elbows on the desktop while she pulled a folder from under her arm.

She placed it on the desk and opened it, peering up at me beneath lashes that were caked with mascara. “You have more tattoos since college,” she noted.

“I’d prefer that we not rehash past history. Let’s keep this professional.”

She paused, picking her head up to meet my eyes. “Do you really think I came all this way just to talk business? I mean, I knew you were a bit dim in college at times, but didn’t realize it would carry over the years.”

“Insulting me won’t heal old wounds, Eden. Look, I apologize for what happened. Trust me, I wish I’d just told you that I wasn’t going to go.”

She fixed her jaw, lowering her head and flipping through the paperwork. “Honestly, these papers would have been so simple for me to scan and send for you to print and sign, but I wanted to see the look on your face when you saw me.”

I sat back in my chair. “What did you think I would do? Get nervous?”

“Are you?” she challenged.

“Not at all.”

Her tongue ran over her lips. “I hear you are engaged. When’s the wedding.”

“Next fall.”

“Hmm.” She smirked. “Let’s hope you don’t stand the bride up at the altar like you did me at the airport.”

“Not going to happen.” I held both hands out, as if the answer were right in front of us. “She’s the love of my life.”

Her eyes narrowed as she slid several sheets of paper across my desk. “Who is she, anyway? A lot of people have been wondering who this lucky lady is.”

“Her name is none of your concern.” I grabbed a pen, reading over the first sheet. I’d read them before, but I didn’t trust Eden, and I wouldn’t put it past her changing terms to make me look like a fool in the end. I signed it after reading it, and as I went to the next sheet, Eden stood and walked around the office.

“Are you ashamed of her?” she asked, looking out the window. “Like you were ashamed of me?”

“Why do you still hold onto that anger?” I questioned, frowning. “It was years ago. We were kids.”

“Yes, but I really liked you, and you didn’t even give me a fair chance.”

My nostrils flared, and I shook my head, reading over the next page carefully before signing.

“As I recall,” I murmured, “I gave you many fair chances. Shit happens. Most people learn to let it go. We weren’t compatible.”

“You weren’t trying to be compatible,” she spat, folding her arms. She looked me over in my chair. “You just thought you were better than me.”

“That’s far from true. I assumed I wasn’t enough for you, and I let it go. Don’t tell me you haven’t met anyone after me? I’m certain you have.”

“I have,” she declared, coming closer to the desk. “And he was great. We were together for four years…but apparently I was too much for him too.”

“There are men out there who desire the things you do. Maybe you’re just choosing the wrong men.”

She scoffed, and before I knew it, she was standing at the edge of my desk, only a few steps away from me. Her hand touched my shoulder, and I glared up at her. “Eden, you need to get your hands off of me and take a seat.”

“God, I used to love that,” she sighed. “Your bossiness. The possessiveness. I always knew you’d end up being your own boss one day.”

I clenched my jaw. She started to move behind me but I pushed out of my chair, frowning. “Is this why you came? Because you think something will happen between us?”

She simply smiled. Nothing more.

“Okay, let me fill you in on something,” I snapped, taking a step closer. “I love my fiancée. I’ve been in love with her for years, and it doesn’t stop now, just because someone from my past comes knocking on the door. There is nothing between us, Eden, so just back off and do your damn job.”

“Or what, Cane? You’ll tell my father?” She gave me a smug smile. “Did you notice he and I don’t have the same last names?” She looked me over. “Yeah, it’s because he’s a lying bastard who went behind his wife’s back to sleep with a woman named Valerie St. Claire. My mother didn’t think he was worthy to have a child named after him. His wife couldn’t have kids, so of course she resents me for being a living, breathing creation of his. Every time I see her, I see the hate in her eyes, but you know what? I don’t care, because I am his only child, and I have him wrapped around my finger, and she knows she’ll never be able to get rid of me. My father already knows how I am. He knows that I like to take what I want; he’s fine with it as long as I don’t disrupt his plans.”