Page 37 of Free to Dream
The Freemans are clients or they’re not. It wouldn’t matter to him if they were clients of the former owners. And until Sunday, I never knew one of my own employees was still keeping tabs on them out of a sense of duty.
“I didn’t own the firm when she was a paying client, Keene,” I reply coldly. “And let me remind you, the family isn’t an active account.” I had already worked through his possible argument in my head about a hundred times before I showed up at her office.
“What you don’t understand,” my voice just slightly warmer than the Arctic, “is that her brother, Phillip, and her brother-in-law, Jason, do know what I do. They know we ran a background check on the company. As long as I’m honest with Cassidy about all of that and leave the choices up to her, they have no fucking problem with it.”
“Well, that’s just great. When do you plan on getting around to that? After you’re done fucking someone who has been abused? We’ve seen how that shit plays out. You want to be another scar on her, keep this up. Just remember, they asked for someone who is nowusto dig into their pasts to ensure no one could find out the things most people would consider debasing and degrading, Caleb. How do you think she’s going to survive after you tell her what you know?”
Without thinking, I jump up and grab Keene by the throat. My iPad clatters to the floor unnoticed. “Do you think I give a fuck about what was done to her, you bastard?” I growl this into his face, which shows no expression. Asshole. “She’s beautiful, brilliant, and strong. And by the end of the first meeting, she’ll have you on your damn knees. So, fuck you and your assumptions about who and what she is based on a goddamned file of information you haven’t even read. You and your black and white.” I let him drop back into his seat and snatch up my iPad.
“I’ll fucking figure it out myself.” I hear the ping of my iPad
Cassidy: Is the topic of your job off-limits for now?
Cassidy: Is it because I won’t answer the question about what I’m wearing?
I hope she’s joking here. I scroll quickly past.
Cassidy: Seriously?
Cassidy: ???
I take a deep breath and begin to type. Her dots move at the same time.
Caleb: I’m sorry, Pixie. I was talking to my business partner. He’s on board too.
Cassidy: Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize.
Caleb: You have nothing to apologize for. The work conversation just got a bit intense.
If that isn’t the understatement of the century.
Caleb: Right now, my firm is contracted to do some work for the government, so I can’t talk about it much.
Truthfully, that’s all I can tell her about the specific job I’m working on. In reality, that’s all I’ll tell her about what I do. At least until I can figure out if I need to open her barely scabbed-over wounds.
Ping.
Cassidy: Sounds like fun. Not. Just hope it doesn’t involve you raising our taxes.
I shake my head, thinking of the massive fees we charge. Probably not a good idea to mention that.
I hear the captain announce, “Mr. Lockwood, Mr. Marshall, we are approaching Teterboro. It is time to prepare for our descent. Please stow all electronic devices. Your steward will be in the cabin to collect your drinks shortly.”
Caleb: I have to shut it down, Pixie. We’re landing.
Cassidy: See you tomorrow.
Putting my iPad away, I warn Keene, “You will treat her with the utmost respect tomorrow night, you ass.”
By the tone of his voice, he assumes I’ve lost my mind. “You’re bringing her to Mandy’s party? Jesus, Caleb. Half the people there will report back to your—” I silence him with a glare. The only way he can make this conversation worse is to call that woman my mother. “You have to tell Cassidy sooner rather than later. Otherwise, you’re setting yourself up for massive failure from the beginning.”
I laugh at him. He seriously thinks to offer me relationship advice? To dictate how I tell the woman I’m more than a little captivated by that I know more about her life than maybe even her siblings do? Jesus, he’s an arrogant motherfucker. It’s moments like this I wonder how I’ve managed not to kill him over the years.
“Thank you, Dr. Marshall. Where should I send the bill for that bit of enlightenment?”
“I’m not kidding, Caleb.” He leans forward. “As your partner, as Hudson’s counsel, as your friend, you know I’m right.”
I turn my head to the side and stare out at the land rushing up to meet us.
