Page 16 of Begin Again, Part 2

"You are not very hospitable, Ms McBride!" Liam said as he followed James to the car.

The ride back to his place in Willow Hills was unusually long. He kept drifting in and out of consciousness, finally snapping awake when his driver pulled up in front of his door.

"Sir, we're home," Stephen said from behind the wheel.

"Why, oh, why would you guys do that?" Liam buried his face in his hands. "Why didn't you stop me? Why did you drive me there? And why did you let me wake up in her dinky house? I swore up and down I'd never wake up at her place."

"You missed the missus, sir," James, riding shotgun, replied.

"She is not the missus!" Liam barked. "And the next time I try something this stupid, you must do everything in your power to restrain me."

"Yes, sir."

For a large part of his day, Liam was locked away in back-to-back meetings, so he didn't get a chance to see Eden. But, he sent her countless reminders about their dinner with Vic Randolph, the founder and CEO of LUSSO.

By the time he wrapped up his last meeting with an out of town client, the building was already half empty. Eden, too, was long gone, even though he'd expressly asked her to stay behind so he could brief her on Randolph's wife.

As he made his way to the car waiting at the entrance, Liam asked Clara to call her and confirm she was at the venue.

His assistant tried a few times, but Eden's phone went unanswered.

"I can't reach her, sir." Clara wore a frightened expression, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I figured as much," Liam drawled and firmly glued his eyes on her, refusing to let her off. He paid her handsomely to come up with solutions.

Clara stared at her shoes as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, doing her best to avoid his gaze.

Liam clapped his hands, demanding her attention. "The question is, how will you fix this? We're supposed to meet Vic Randolph shortly. Do I need to remind you what's at stake here?"

"Let me try La Famiglia. She might already be there," Clara suggested.

She kept throwing cautious glances in his direction while she spoke with the hostess. When she returned to him, defeat etched on her face, Liam knew her bright plan was a bust.

"She's not at the restaurant. But there's still plenty of time before the meeting. Two hours to be exact. I don't think we should panic yet. Ms McBride could have just gone home, you know, to settle Aiden in for the night or something—" Clara babbled away, but closed her mouth when he gave her a death stare.

"I'll handle this shit myself. Send Ms McBride a text and let her know I'm on my way to pick her up. If she's not ready when I get to her place, don't bother returning to work tomorrow," he said as he jumped in the car, not giving her room to protest.

"Are you sure about this? The missus wasn't happy with you for showing up at her house unannounced last night. Maybe you should lie low for a while and let her calm down?" James suggested, meeting his gaze in the rear-view mirror as they pulled away from the premises and headed to Eden's house.

"She is not the missus," Liam groaned.

"That's beside the point," Stephen chimed in from behind the wheel as he negotiated the car through the bustling city centre. "She's still upset, and going there won't help your cause."

Liam ignored them and flipped through the dossier on Randolph's trophy wife. Yes, he screwed up badly last night by drinking himself into a coma and then showing up at Eden's place uninvited. But this wasn't a social call. They had a business engagement. It was her job to assist him in whatever capacity he deemed necessary.

They were in Forrest Creek in a flash despite the moderate afternoon traffic. Liam had to look at the single-story bungalow a few times to make sure they were at the right place. He'd been there once or twice before, but at night. Seeing her place in broad daylight was a bit of a shock to his system.

When he called her house 'dinky', he assumed it was small. Nothing could have prepared him for this matchbox-sized cottage, and to think he slept here last night. How did he even fit in here?

Liam dialled Eden's number, and her phone rang for a long time before the voicemail lady picked up. He didn't leave a message. He hated leaving messages.

He pushed out of the door, but stayed close to the car, not daring to step beyond the boundary line in case something jumped at him from the unkempt rose bushes near the mailbox.

It made sense now, Liam thought, as he took in the sorry-looking house with the lopsided 'sold' sign stuck on weedy grass, why Eden had robbed him blind during her salary negotiations. She wanted to make a quick buck to do up her little bungalow.

"Very brazen of her," he said as he called her again.

Eden ignored—no— rejected all five of his calls, and he looked up just in time to see the front window curtain snap in place.

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