Page 5 of Seal My Fate

I remember meeting him at the Ashford Pharma event, seeing how he charmed and worked the room, every inch the trustworthy politician.

Hugh gives a wry smile. “My father and I have very different priorities,” he replies, thankfully not seeming offended by my comment. “But we are alike in one way, we have a vision for the future. For this country. That mission is all that matters.”

I blink, surprised by his grim tone. Then he flashes a grin. “And if BeastMode and Lady Jane will make it happen, then I say, I’m all in,” he adds. “Even if they make me feel about a hundred years old.”

I laugh, relaxing again. “I’ll get one of the interns to make you a cheat card,” I suggest. “So you don’t mix up your GoJo with your GoPro.”

“Please do.” Hugh sets the espresso to drip, then expertly adds steamed milk in a swirl. “Andvoila. If all this fails, I can always run off to Rome and become a barista,” he adds with a grin.

“I’m impressed.” I take a sip. “Wow, this really is good.”

“Annabelle begged me to train the staff for her wedding breakfast,” Hugh says, looking amused. “Apparently, she wants her and Max’s initials swirled into all the foam on every cup.”

I laugh. “That sounds like Annabelle.”

“Did you get the itinerary?” he asks.

“Itinerary?”

“For the wedding events. They kick off next week, you know, and it’s scheduled down to the minute,” Hugh looks mock-serious. “I think she even put the bathroom breaks in.”

“I’ll have to check with Saint,” I say, amused. Then I pause. “You don’t really think Annabelle meant it when she said I would be a bridesmaid, do you?”

Hugh smirks. “Not only did she mean it, but I would wager you a hundred pounds she’s already having the bridesmaid dress altered and is making a personalized flower crown for you. Or rather, one of her poor minions is.”

“Oh dear,” I laugh. “Isn’t that kind of weird, me being a part of the wedding? I just met you all!”

“But you’re part of the family now, aren’t you?” he asks. “I mean, Saint’s like a brother to us, and if he’s happy… Then we are, too.”

I smile back, touched. “He should be happy,” I crack, and then realize that came out sounding dirtier than I meant. “I just mean, with everything going smoothly at Ashford,” I add quickly, and Hugh laughs.

“Yeah, I heard some whispers about that. I’m glad. A lot of people have a lot riding on the Ashford Pharma fortunes… including the Foundation here.”

“How do you mean?” I ask, puzzled.

“Our endowment is invested in the markets,” Hugh explains. “I don’t follow the details, but since it was all set up before I took the reins… I’m guessing a tidy sum is tied up in Ashford shares. My father likes to keep his friends close, and their profits closer.”

“Oh.” I blink, not sure how to process that. Just another example of how tightly all these powerful families’ fates are intertwined. But before I can respond properly, my phone buzzes with an alarm. It’s 1:30 already. I need to go meet Wren!

“Hot date?” Hugh asks, as I quickly rinse my coffee cup in the sink.

“I’m meeting with another influencer,” I lie quickly. “Not sure if they’re a good fit, so I thought I’d sit down face-to-face and check the vibe before I mentioned anything.”

“Great work,” Hugh grins. “Let me know if it all pans out. We’re rooting for you.”

I escape backto my office to grab my things, then head out. Shoreditch is on the East side of London, about a twenty-minute walk from the address Wren gave me, and I walk fast, my nerves twisting tighter with every step.

Why the cloak-and-dagger routine? Couldn’t she just have sat down and talked last night? She was on edge.Scared. Acting like she could have been discovered at any moment… I wonder now if she thought she was being followed.

I walk a little faster, glancing around me, but the streets are busy and nobody is paying me any attention. My surroundings turn from the newer hipster coffee shops and boutiques to a slightly seedier side of London, the East End of disheveled diners, mini-marts, and boarded-up shops. It’s definitely far from the glamorous hot spots Saint and his friends frequent. Nobody I know would expect to find me way out here.

But clearly, that’s the point.

The Two Hearts pub is on the corner, a dingy local spot with faded carpet and a weary-looking barmaid on duty behind the bar. Early in the afternoon, the place is quiet, with just a few drinkers alone at the bar, or heads bent over the horse racing scores.

And Wren. Already cloistered in a booth in the back, half-hidden from the room but with a clear view of the door.

I make my way over, relieved she turned up at all. If she slipped away from me again… I would have no way of finding her. No way to even prove she’d shown her face at all.

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