Page 85 of Claimed By the Cowboys
Montana and Dakota looked to one another, then glanced around the kitchen.
Before either of them could answer, Clay cut in casually. “Zeke had a few things to take care of this morning real early.He’s already over at the conference room we rented at the Twin Pines hotel, laying out coffee and donuts for the meeting.”
I did my best to imagine Zeke—too tall, nearly bursting out of his suit, shaggy blond hair, his jaw shimmering with golden stubble—and allowed myself a little giggle.
“All right, well, don’t let me keep you.” I closed my bathrobe tighter around myself and accepted a kiss from each of the Blackwood boys before they headed off.
Setting Maisie up on the couch with a lineup of her favorite pink pony princess dolls with a double feature ofIce Princessplaying on the big screen television had gone successfully, so I was able to dial into the video conference without any trouble.
I scooted myself deep into the far corner of the sectional sofa—one eye on the grainy video screen and an earbud in one ear, the other eye and ear open, ready to slam the laptop shut and jump into action should Maisie’s attention on her movies and dolls falter.
Montana and Clay’s faces dominated nearly the entire frame of the webcam as the pair struggled to make the proper adjustments, their muffled speech barely carrying over the microphone.
“All right gentlemen, Miss Ross, it looks like everything is up and running,” a high, nasally voice called from the background. Monty and Clay cleared from the camera’s view to show a large rectangular wooden table spread with donuts, napkins, and styrofoam cups of coffee.
The mediator, a tall woman with graying blond hair and tiny pink plastic reading glasses, appeared before the camera, sitting at the head of the table between the two parties.
On one side of the table, a slight blonde woman with cold and beautiful features and cornsilk blond curls, just like Maisie’s, sat beside Lance, Ralph, and Kyle, a chair still empty on either side of the mediator.
On the other side, Clay, Dakota, and Montana sat with their hands neatly folded, Zeke still nowhere to be found.
“There are a couple items to get out of the way before we can begin, so let’s take a look at the mediation guidelines sent prior to today’s session by your legal teams,” the mediator said patiently as two men in suits stepped into frame, passing out thin packets of paper to everyone in attendance.
The first man, tall and dark with olive skin and slicked-back espresso brown hair, spoke in hushed whispers as he passed papers to Caroline and the members of Pack Adamar.
“Thank you, Mr. Menucci.” The mediator bobbed a curt nod to their lawyer.
My eyes practically dropped out of my skull when Zeke entered the frame, nearly unrecognizable with his blond hair slicked back from his face, a pair of circular golden wire-frame glasses perched delicately on his nose, his designer suit tailored perfectly to his long, muscular form.
“Thank you, Mr. Hunter,” the mediator said.
“Anytime, Angela,” Zeke responded with a warm smile, all traces of his country accent missing.
“Does everyone have access to a copy? Great. Before we get started, I’d like to remind you of my role in this process. I will serve as an impartial third party to facilitate your conversations, both in this joint session and in private meetings,” the mediator explained with the practiced ease of someone with many years of experience.
“Miss Ross and Pack Adamar, as well as Pack Blackwood, have brought their representatives, Antonio Menucci andEzekiel Hunter, to serve as your advocates. Please remember that I won’t be acting in that capacity.”
I still couldn’t quite get over Zeke’s surprise turn as Pack Blackwood’s lawyer. I would be looking for an explanation of thatlong storylater, of that much I was sure.
“I am not a judge, thus I will not be making any judgments on who is right or wrong. It will be up to you to make decisions on any type of settlement agreement at the end.” The mediator spread her hands wide, gesturing to everyone seated around the table before she continued. “Are there any questions before we begin?”
After a beat of silence, she continued. “All right, Miss Ross, you may begin.”
Caroline looked to her lawyer and the members of Pack Adamar before she began her tale of woe.
“I was the executive chief of staff for Blackwood Ranch for a while,” Caroline said, her voice high and clear, her nose lifted into the air. “During most of that time, I was also romantically involved with Pack Blackwood.”
Though Zeke and the others weren’t permitted to speak or object during Caroline’s turn to speak, Clay clung to the edge of the table, his knuckles bloodless with the strength of his grip, and Zeke furiously jotted notes on his yellow legal pad.
“Because of the nature of my relationship with Clayton Blackwood, I had given up my entire life for the ranch,” Caroline continued dramatically, batting her flaxen lashes like a damsel in distress. “I was forced to give up job opportunities and swayed away from investments in real estate while the market was more stable, due to my belief that Clayton and the rest of Pack Blackwood would make good on their promises to feed me, house me, and eventually bond me into their pack.”
Even though the webcam’s quality was poor, I could see all the muscles standing out on Dakota’s and Montana’s necks asthey struggled to keep silent, knowing that an outburst, calling Caroline on her bullshit, wouldn’t go over well in the mediation.
Caroline’s lawyer looked to her, waiting for a silent nod from his client before jumping in to add, “Miss Ross also accepted a salaryfarbelow the average for her position because she was romantically involved with her employer. Mr. Blackwood clearly took advantage of the power dynamics of their relationship, making sure he kept Miss Ross underpaid and dependent on the wealth of him and his pack.”
Even though it wasn’t possible, I could have sworn I heard the dull grinding of Clayton’s back teeth as I watched his jaw shift back and forth on camera, his outrage bubbling close to the surface.
“To say nothing of how my client was treated after the birth of her daughter,” Menucci continued with a sneer, allowing Caroline to pick up where she had left off for impact.
