Read Trust Online

Authors: Cristiane Serruya

Tags: #General Fiction

Trust (13 page)

Silence ensued for some minutes as they tenderly caressed each other.

“A penny for your thoughts.”

“They aren’t worth your penny.” She smiled wanly at him. “I just had a bad meeting today and I’m concerned about whether I conducted the matter as I should.”

“What happened?” As always, he expressed interest in her.

“The long and the short of it, I had this bad feeling about the director negotiating a contract with us and I demanded a meeting with the CEO of the bank. Then the guy pushed me too far and I snapped.”

“Which one? How?” Ethan’s demeanor blackened.

Sophia, absorbed in her thoughts, didn’t notice the change in Ethan’s attitude. “The director. He pressed us to accept the contract as it was, full of absurd clauses. He even insinuated that Leibowitz Oil depended on this contract to survive. Ridiculous.” She bit her lip. “And he kept leering and drooling over me. It was disgusting.”

Ethan flipped her suddenly on the bed and pressed his body over hers, his hand shot out and grappled her right wrist with strength, wringing it. “You will not go to these meetings again, Sophia.”

“Ethan!” She staggered. His behavior surprised her. “You’re hurting me,” she murmured.

He squeezed her hand violently and pressed her body down on the mattress harder, grabbing her hair in his hand and yanking her head back. “I don’t want you to go alone to these meetings,” he insisted, his azure eyes darkened.

“Let go of my wrist. You’re going to break it,” she whispered urgently, a weird fear spreading through her as pain took control, “please.”

He let go her arm and her hair, but didn’t budge from her body. His fingers were imprinted on her wrist. She lightly rubbed her fingers over it and winced.
It’s going to leave a mark
.

He inhaled heavily. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He bent his head to kiss her lips, but she turned away, avoiding his kiss. “I don’t like the idea of you exposed.” He buried his head on her neck, kissing it. “Alone, unprotected.”

“I wasn’t alone. Edward was with me,” she answered.

“Edward?” His voice had a tinge of rage again.

“Edward Davidoff, the CEO of Leibowitz.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Close, aren’t you?”

“No-Yes,” she stammered. “I mean, we’re friends, co-workers.”

“You shouldn’t work this hard and burden your pretty head with these mundane things.” He curled his fingers under her chin, “You don’t need to. I can provide for both of us.”

Dear God. The man is crazy. Provide for both of us? Is he proposing marriage?
“I like what I do, Ethan. As everything in life, it has its ups and downs,” she reasoned. She rose and went to the bathroom. She studied her wrist and then her face in the mirror. She noticed a movement in her peripheral vision. He stood at the door. She grimaced.
Damn!
“I’d better leave.” She lowered her eyelids, hooding her darkened eyes.

“I’m sorry, baby. I really am. I like you very much.” He stepped into the bathroom, warily, “I don’t like you meeting with men. You’re an astonishing woman.”

She wrinkled her nose in denial. “There is no need for jealousy. I don’t care about anyone else.”

“I’m not concerned with you, but with them,” he frowned and his azure eyes darkened. “I see how men look at you. You’re coveted, but you’re mine, Sophia. Mine.”

“I see,” she murmured, although she didn’t.
This is not affection, Ethan. This has another name
. “But, I’m going home, Ethan. Call me a taxi, please.”

“I can take-”

She shook her head. When she raised her eyes, they held a resolute expression. “A taxi, Ethan,” she said firmly, “please.”

Chapter 7

Leibowitz Oil Building.

Friday, January 22
nd
, 2010.

9.30 a.m.

“Come in,” Sophia called, unlocking her office door, and looking up from her iMac screen.

Edward paused at the door and listened to the music playing in Sophia’s office.

“A waltz by Strauss. Perfect.” Edward literally waltzed into the room with a stack of papers in his hand, an enormous bouquet of dark red peonies and a huge grin on his face. “Congratulations! You’re a genius; one hell of an executive. Gabriel would be proud.”

“What is this?” She smiled at him. “The contract for the students from the University of Strathclyde?”

“No. The loan!” He threw himself in the armchair in front of her desk and put the bouquet on the other. “Exactly as you wanted it. Lower fees, a guaranty of a hundred percent and almost no penalty clauses.” He grinned wickedly at her. “And the best part… Please change the waltz to Beethoven’s fifth symphony, Allegro con brio.”

“Come on, Edward, cut the suspense.”

“Put it on. Just the beginning.” His grin was infectious and she did as he asked. Exactly seven seconds after the music started, he exclaimed. “Wales was fired.”

“Wow! There is a God!” A vindictive smile spread over Sophia’s face. “The bastard was disgusting.”

“It’ll teach him manners.” He singled out an ivory envelope with dark green motifs from the stack of papers. “Now, this!” He opened it and took from it a folded page. He unfolded the crispy vellum stationary, smoothing it gently with his fingers. Edward’s eyes quickly scanned the letter and whistled. “Change the music. Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concert.”

She did as requested. The ominous sounds filled the room and Sophia shuddered.

“I just love this,” he breathed and closed his eyes for a second. “Spectacular, isn’t it? So… intense. As is the man who has caught your attention.”

“I beg your pardon?” she frowned at him.

“Sophia, Sophia.” He threw her a secretive smile and turned his gaze back to the letter in his hand, raising a dark blond eyebrow. “He’s a gentleman; exceptionally fine woven paper and impressive penmanship.” Edward sounded fascinated with her correspondence.

“Who?” Sophia impatiently tapped her fingers one to another. “Edward…”

He grinned at her. “It says here…”

London, January 21
st
, 2010.

Dear Mr. Davidoff,

It is with the greatest satisfaction that I send you the new contract for your and Mrs. Santo’s approval. I hope it meets your requirements.

I have to congratulate you on your choice for the head of the legal department of Leibowitz Oil. Mrs. Santo is intelligent, smart and, if I may say, a shrewd businesswoman. Quite a sight to behold.

Mr. Wales is no longer with us. Henceforth, I’m at your disposal for any future enquiries, unless you have any other director or vice-president you would wish to appoint as your contact with us. It was a pleasure to work with you, as always.

I look forward to hearing from you and I remain at your disposal.

Yours faithfully,

Alistair Connor MacCraig

CEO, The City of London Bank.

“Shrewd businesswoman?” Sophia grinned. “I like it.”

“I do, too. Especially because he thinks I’m responsible for the choice,” he chuckled. “‘Quite a sight to behold.’ This is a lot more interesting than a ‘shrewd businesswoman’.” He snatched the card from the flowers, flaunting it at her.

“Who sent those and to whom?” she asked curious.

“They aren’t for you! They are for Mrs. Santo. Head of the Legal Department.” He looked at the envelope. “Perhaps you know her?” His smile vanished. “You have to stop doing this, Sophia. It’s affecting LO.”

“I will, I will. I just need some courage and a little more time.”

His smile returned. “Can I open it?”

With a flourished wave of her long hand, she authorized it.

“Hmm…” He rubbed two fingers over his square jaw. “A personal card. There is a coat of arms engraved above his name.”

“Who is he?”

Edward looked at her with a teasing reproving look. “As if you didn’t know.”

“I don’t.” She frowned. “Who sent me flowers?”

Edward shook his head slowly at her and lowered his head to read the card. A blonde lock fell over his forehead and he pushed it back impatiently as he read the card silently. He let out a long whistle this time. “Now.
This
is a sight to behold!” and read out loud.

London, January 21
st
, 2010.

Dear Mrs. Santo,

It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

I was greatly dismayed by Mr. Wales’s undignified behavior towards you, Leibowitz Oil, and the Leibowitz family.

To undo the unfavorable impression, I request the pleasure of your company for lunch at Gordon Ramsay at Claridge’s, on January 22
nd
, at 1 o’clock.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Yours truly,

Alistair Connor

“I would say: up close and personal. Just Alistair Connor. Beautiful name. Strong.” Edward shook his head in amazement. “Heavens, Sophia! Another one! You have all these gorgeous men falling at your feet. Why not share your secret?” He pouted. “What’s the magical, invisible powder you throw to spellbind every man and woman around you?”

Her laugh rang through the room. “Take your pick. I cannot go out with more than one.” She extended her hand. “Let me study the contract.”

“Stop beating around the bush and call him to confirm the lunch,” Edward pushed.

Sophia straightened up in her chair, suddenly scared. “I’m not going, Edward. I’ll write him a thank you note for the flowers, but I’m not going. You can go.”

“He didn’t ask me out, Sophia. He asked you. And it’s solely a business lunch.” He cocked his head to look at her and spoke quietly. “Why not?”

A warning sensation tingled through Sophia. “I don’t know. Instincts, maybe?”

“You cannot skip this lunch, Sophia. Not this time,” he insisted. “It’s too important for LO. Do you want me to go with you?”

Sophia looked at her hands and sighed. “Do you really think it’s necessary?” She looked at her friend. Edward never asked for more than what she could do.

He thinned his lips and nodded. “Yes. You know I wouldn’t ask if I thought I could go in your place.”

“All right.” Sophia pressed the intercom. “Sarah, could you please call The City of London Bank and put Mr. MacCraig’s secretary on the line? Thank you.” She looked at Edward. “Have you read the contract?”

“Yes, Jason, from the legal team, and I did. A director delivered it here at eight thirty this morning.” He grinned. “It’s perfect.”

The intercom buzzed. “Mrs. L, it’s Mr. MacCraig’s secretary. His name is Angus MacKeenan.”

“Thank you, Sarah. Put him through.” The line loudly beeped. “Mr. MacKeenan?”

“Mrs. Santo, how are you? It’s Alistair Connor.” Alistair’s deep voice came through the speaker and Sophia’s heart fired up to a breakneck pace in her chest. Eyes wide, she looked at Edward, who merely raised a blond eyebrow. “I gather you have received my card.”

“Yes, Mr. MacCraig, I have. Ah…” A foreboding feeling flashed through her, leaving her at a loss for words and she licked her lips.

“So, I can confirm the reservation at Gordon Ramsay’s?” His low, deep voice soothed her.

Sophia glanced at Edward who nodded. “Yes, Mr. MacCraig, you can. I will be there at one o’clock.”

“Great. I’ll send my driver to pick you up.”

“There’s no need.” She bit her lip for a second. “A driver from Leibowitz Oil will drop me off.”

Edward shook his head, amused.

“Very well. I’m looking forward to our lunch. See you then.”

“See you, Mr. MacCraig,” Sophia murmured.

“A driver from Leibowitz Oil? Is that Steven’s new job title?” Edward inquired. “Why are you so nervous, Sophia? The guy isn’t going to bite you. He’s asking you out to a business lunch.”

“Who said I was nervous?”

“You repeated ‘
Mr. MacCraig
’ three times. And bit your bottom lip.” Concerned, he eyed her. “If you feel this bad about it, don’t go.”

“It’s okay, Edward. I’ll go.” Sophia waved her right hand again in the air and the long sleeve of her silk dress fell to her elbow.

Edward looked at her wrist and frowned. “What is this, Sophia?” Edward rose from the chair and went to her side. He held her hand and looked at her wrist. His expression clouded when he noticed the mark of fingers on her delicate arm, which she had tried to conceal with makeup but failed. “Sophia?”

Stupid, stupid!
“It’s nothing.” She dismissed it. “I must have banged my hand somewhere.”

“Somewhere with fingers?” His blue eyes flashed, angrily. “I don’t like this, Sophia. Why did he hurt you? Don’t you dare lie to me!”

Sophia bit her lip and looked at Edward. “Really, it was nothing. I bruise easily, you know.”

“I’ll let this pass. But, beware! If I see something like this again, Ashford and I will have a private talk.” Edward thinned his lips and flexed his large shoulders; his face murderous. “I may not be as broad as him but surely I’m bigger than you. If something like this happens again, I want to know, Sophia.”

Gordon Ramsay at Claridge’s.

12.55 p.m.

Sophia entered the restaurant trailing behind the maître d’. Alistair was already seated. She looked at her watch.
Five minutes to one
.

He mesmerized her as he rose and straightened to his full height. His dark blue double-breasted pinstripe suit molded to his body. He flashed a white, even smile and beckoned her to him. As usual, a lock of his windswept hair fell on his forehead while another flipped over his left eye. The same deep need to tangle her hands in his hair and yank his head down for a kiss made her head spin. She breathed deep and tried not to wobble as she walked. Never clumsy, Sophia didn’t intend to start being so now.

His eyes… His emerald-green eyes framed by those long, dark, and full lashes are beautiful. It should be forbidden for men to have such beautiful, hypnotizing eyes
. Sophia shivered as a disturbing feeling set in the pit of her stomach.
This isn’t a business lunch. Oh, God. What am I doing? Ethan’s going to be furious
. Sophia looked around, suddenly wary.
And who said he needs to know?

Alistair observed Sophia as she meandered her way through the restaurant.
There’s something different about her
.

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