Page 9 of One Last Lie

As I descend the stairs, I hear Cecilia talking with a stranger. The stranger is a woman around Cecilia's age. Her brusque manner and assertive tone suggest that she holds a position of power and is used to getting her way.

“The board will hold a vote next week to determine the company’s future,” the stranger says, “I understand that Johnathan and I have been rivals at times, but—”

“Enemies,” Cecilia interrupts. “There’s no sense in not calling it what it is.”

After a slight pause, the stranger says, “Yes. Enemies. However, our… conflict… was purely business. I hold no ill will to you or the children. If you agree to abstain from your inherited vote, I promise that I will ensure that your pension continues at its current rate.”

“And if I exercise my right to vote, you almost certainly lose, and I can ensure myself that my pension continues at its current rate.”

I know I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but something tells me I shouldn’t interrupt this conversation. Something else tells me I need to hear what’s being said.

The stranger sighs and says, “There’s no need for us to be enemies, Cecilia. My issue with Johnathan has nothing to do with you. Besides, most of your income comes from Johnathan’s personal estate. Let’s say I really am the bitch he says I am. Do you really stand to lose that much?”

Cecilia laughs. It’s not at all the reaction I expect, and I recoil slightly in surprise.

“I guess not,” she says, “but I don’t like being threatened, Elena. Even when it’s a veiled threat.”

My eyes widen. Elena. Is this her fourth attempt? But attempt at what? Could she be attempting to take Johnathan’s spot as head of Ashford Capital?

Elena’s voice is tense when she speaks again. I can’t tell if it’s frustration or fear. Perhaps both. “I’m not threatening you. I’m just trying to do what’s best for the company.”

“If you and I are going to have this conversation, then we need to be honest with each other.”

“All right. Then you be honest with me. How did—”

“What are you doing?”

I jump and spin around to see Theresa frowning at me. I can feel heat climb my cheeks because she has every right to wonder what I’m doing. The answer to the question, of course, is that I’m eavesdropping, and she’s caught me red handed.

Well, there’s no point in trying to hide it.

“Who’s that talking with Cecilia?”

Theresa’s frown deepens into a glare. “Who Mrs. Ashford talks to is none of your business. Where are the children?”

“Samuel is watching a movie in his room. I’m on my way to look for Elijah now. As for Isabella—”

“Here,” she says, passing us with a cheeky wave and bounding down the steps. “Mom! Sammy wants to know if we can have pizza for dinner!”

I hear Cecilia sigh and say, “I don’t know. Ask Miss Mary.”

Isabella walks to the foot of the stairs and calls, “Mary! Can we have pizza for dinner?”

I should tell her to ask politely and to come up the stairs to talk to me rather than shouting, but I’m too discomfited to think of that, so instead, I call back, “I must talk to Chef Paolo first, but if he’s all right with it, then yes.”

“It’s fine, Mary!” Cecilia calls irritably.

Well, it’s my fault everyone’s shouting through the house. I had a chance to stop that.

Theresa keeps her frown on me a moment longer, then said, "I told you that Mrs. Ashford allows him his time to himself. You should, too."

She walks away, and I sigh and head downstairs. Cecilia stands near a severe looking woman who, as I suspect, is near her in age. The woman—Elena, I presume—frowns at me. That appears to be the standard greeting for strangers here.

Before I can introduce myself, Elena turns back to Cecilia. “I’ll call you later. Please think about my offer.”

“I will.”

The two separate, and I smile apologetically. “I apologize for that. I should have—”

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