Unbound (11 page)

I watch him go with a beating heart. Why is he so angry? What did I say?

On the way to the meeting, we sit in the limousine in silence. I don’t know what to say and I’m still a bit shocked by Jonathan’s reaction just now. The session confirmed my theory that Jonathan only called the meeting in order to reiterate his own position. And of course, in the end, he managed to persuade the others not to abandon the project.

“Are you satisfied?” I ask him, in the car. He’s sitting next to me again and he looks up from texting on his phone.

He narrows his eyes and raises one eyebrow. “Aren’t you? The project will be good for the local people.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm. But I still believe I’m right about his motives for building the business center.

“And thanks to you it’s going to happen,” I say, ignoring the dig.

“Well, then we can all be happy now, can’t we?” He shakes his head and turns back to his cell. But he doesn’t seem mad anymore, just surprised that I’m still not willing to alter my positive opinion of him. Why is he so resistant to letting me see him in a good light?

I look at the clock. It’s almost noon. He hasn’t mentioned any lunch plans, but since we went to the sandwich bar on the spur of the moment yesterday, I assume he has a similar quick lunch somewhere in mind. I’m all the more astonished when, after a short drive, the limousine turns into a narrow side street and stops in front of a house that looks like a historic factory building.

It turns out to be an old electricity plant, which has been converted into a restaurant named “The Wapping Project”. There are modern tables and chairs on what used to be the factory floor and on the ceiling you can still see pieces of old equipment. It’s an interesting contrast; I like it here.

A waiter receives us and greets Jonathan by name before taking us to a table toward the back of the room, where a man is waiting for us.

He has dirty blond hair, is exactly the same height as Jonathan, though a little narrower across the shoulders, and looks rather athletic. He looks good in his light-colored suit and open-necked shirt. He stands up when he sees us coming.

“It’s good to see you again, at last,” says Jonathan, and the two men hug each other warmly. “I thought you were going to leave me to deal with everything on my own forever.”

The blond man grins and indicates me with his chin. “I see you’ve found a way to console yourself,” he replies, regarding me with curiosity.

Jonathan extends an arm and pulls me closer to him. I can feel his hand on my back. “This is Grace Lawson, our new intern from Chicago,” he introduces me. “And this is Alexander Norton, my partner.”

Now I recognize him. I’ve seen a photo of him, too, but he had shorter hair in it, and looked very earnest and introverted. And younger. Perhaps the photo was taken a few years ago. Right now, Alexander Norton is beaming contentedly as he greets me.

“It’s a pleasure, Grace. So you’ve come from John White? How is the old man, then?”

“He’s good, I think.” What can I say? John White is over sixty and my professor, with whom I don’t have any kind of personal relationship. But Alexander Norton has turned back to Jonathan again anyway.

“Why did you bring her?” he asks, as we sit down, and I can hear the curiosity in his voice.

“She’s accompanying me to all my appointments,” Jonathan explains as he pulls out a chair for me and sits down next to me. When Alexander raises his eyebrows in astonishment, he adds, “She’s made an excellent start, which is why we’ve extended her internship.”

“You mean
you’ve
extended it. You didn’t ask me, as far as I’m aware,” his partner replies. He smiles at me, when he sees my shocked look. “It’s an unusual honor, Grace. But I’ve got nothing against it, don’t worry. Quite the contrary, a little company won’t do the Hunter any harm.”

Hunter, I think. Why does he call Jonathan that? Perhaps because of Huntington. Or does it have another meaning? In any case, it must be some sort of nickname, and Jonathan has clearly heard it often before because he doesn’t seem to pay any attention to it and goes on talking. He would obviously like to change the subject.

“Why don’t
you
tell me how the Nelson Project is going? Were the three weeks in Asia worth it?”

Alexander Norton is beaming with satisfaction again. “Yes, very. We’re making huge progress.” The two men talk about the business deal while I study the menu and sneak a peek at them every now and again.

I’m fascinated by their relationship, by the ease with which they treat each other. I’ve never seen Jonathan so open with anyone and I suddenly realize how reserved he usually is in conversation. This is one side of him I hadn’t seen before—and I like it a lot.

“How’s Sarah then?” My ears prick up at Alexander Norton’s question to Jonathan. “Have you heard from her?”

Jonathan laughs. “She still finds Rome fascinating but luckily she’ll be home the week after next. It’s probably better that way. Because if you ask me, she hasn’t been spending her time at the library, as she should, she’s been turning Italian men’s heads down there.” His voice sounds affectionate and I feel a sudden pang. Who’s Sarah?

“Has she met anyone?” Alexander seems nervous, almost concerned. Jonathan shrugs his shoulders.

“My little sister doesn’t tell me everything, if that’s what you mean.”

Jonathan’s sister—of course. The one he sometimes gives backrubs to. I’m so relieved, I smile, and immediately ask myself why I find the thought so difficult to bear—that there might be someone in Jonathan Huntington’s life who isn’t related to him, and whom he talks about affectionately.

Jonathan frowns and observes Alexander with a rather amused smile. “It still interests you, then?” His voice sounds mocking. “You’re a hopeless case.”

Alexander clearly doesn’t feel attacked because he just grins. “You know me.”

But before I have time to think about these mysterious hints more carefully, the waiter brings our drinks—Jonathan has ordered water and white wine for us—and Alexander Norton raises his glass.

“To Huntington Ventures’ successful entry into the Asian market,” he explains, as we clink glasses. “Your old man is going to be pretty angry, isn’t he, when he finds out that his predictions haven’t come true and the company is about to do business all around the globe?”

Jonathan smiles but this time the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I hope so.” It sounds so hateful that my eyes prick up. “If it had been up to him, I would have failed at my very first project.”

“Your father predicted that your company wouldn’t be successful?” I ask before I can restrain myself and I regret it right away because both men are looking at me now and Jonathan is practically skewering me with his eyes. When he answers, his voice is icy.

“He not only predicted that I wouldn’t be a success, he put as many obstacles as possible in my way to try to prevent it. Luckily, he did not succeed.”

“I find it hard to imagine that.” I somehow assumed that a man as successful as Jonathan Huntington would have a supportive family who was proud of him. And besides, he’s going to inherit the Earl’s title and the family seat, so I’d have expected his family to stick together, to hold on to family traditions, perhaps to regard all ordinary mortals with a certain snooty arrogance. But I would never have expected rejection and enmity.

Jonathan makes a scornful face when he hears what I’ve said aloud again and turns to his partner. “You should know, Alex, that Grace believes in the good in people. She’s convinced that we do business out of brotherly love. And she probably also believes that all the fathers in the world are nice because her own father was always nice to her. Am I right?” He looks at me challengingly.

“Jonathan,” Alexander warns him.

I swallow with difficulty. His mocking words hurt my feelings but I also heard the pain and bitterness in his voice. And part of me understands him only too well.

“My father left my mother when I was six years old,” I reply, without avoiding his cold gaze. “I’ve only seen him a few times since then and for the past thirteen years not at all. I can’t judge whether or not he was nice to me. Actually, I don’t know him at all.”

Jonathan’s head falls forward and then he nods, as if to strengthen something inside him, before looking at me again.

“I’m sorry. That was …very rude of me.” He forces the apology, speaking through his teeth but I can see that he’s truly sorry. Besides, there is a new depth in the way he’s looking at me, as if he suddenly sees me differently.

“Don’t take it personally, Grace,” Alexander Norton intervenes. “He always reacts that way when it’s about his father.”

I would love to know what exactly happened between Jonathan and the old Earl. It must have been more than some minor difference of opinion if it makes Jonathan so angry. But I don’t think it would be a good idea to ask him about it right now. Alexander Norton seems to feel the same way.

“Let’s change the subject.” He raises his glass. “Why don’t you explain how our new intern came to be allowed to work with the boss.”

I look at Jonathan right away. That’s something I find very interesting too. But his face is blank.

“It’s an experiment,” he says, taking a large sip of wine. He seems very happy that the waiter is about to serve the food and that his partner doesn’t pursue it further. But I can’t stop thinking about his answer. If this is an experiment, what does he want to find out?

An hour later, the three of us are all sitting in the limousine, since Alexander Norton is coming back to the company with us. The good mood Jonathan was in this morning seems to have vanished in a stroke. He’s sitting in the seat next to me and typing something on his phone. Although he’s close to me, he seems so far away, which troubles me. My remarks seem to have managed to make him mad twice already today.

Since he doesn’t seem to be planning on breaking the silence, I turn to Alexander Norton.

“So, how do you know Professor White?”

He smiles pensively. “He was a guest teacher at Winchester College while Jonathan and I were there, and I’ve kept in touch with him over the years. He was a kind of mentor to me back then.”

Winchester College, I think. I’ve heard of it. The school—a boys’ boarding school—isn’t as famous as Eton, but just as elite. And expensive. That’s why I’m puzzled.

“You were both at the same school?” I’m not surprised that Jonathan Huntington, the future Earl of Lockwood, went there, but Alexander Norton isn’t an aristocrat. I read online that he comes from a humble background.

He shrugs. “I had a scholarship,” he explains shortly.

Jonathan looks up and the two men’s eyes meet. It’s a look of silent understanding but they aren’t laughing. It’s as if they’re both remembering a difficult time. There’s some connection between them, I think. Something sinister which neither of them seems to want to be reminded of.

“So you had the idea of founding Huntington Ventures together?” I say quickly, in order to avoid making anyone angry at some thoughtless remark again. Alexander Norton leans back and shakes his hand. “No, that was Jonathan on his own. He didn’t bring me in on it till later.”

“And you took over the running of the investment department and made it into the company’s key sector.” It just slips out. When he smiles in embarrassment I shrug my shoulders apologetically. “I had to familiarize myself with the company philosophy and history for my internship.”

“And what conclusions have you come to?” He seems genuinely interested. I’m in my element now. And, since Alexander Norton’s green eyes don’t make me as nervous as his partner’s blue ones, I remember what I told the selection committee in Chicago.

“Huntington Ventures has a highly innovative philosophy which isn’t based on rapid profit optimization but on supporting patents and developments. You bring capital and ideas together, and earn money from the resulting amazing potential.”

“Nice summary,” Alexander says, looking over at Jonathan with an amused smile. “You seem to be a real fan of our company. I’m beginning to see why Hunter likes having you around so much.”

There’s that rather unsettling nickname again. But it suits him, I think. Jonathan is a hunter, with a clear vision of his goals and the commitment to pursue them. I suppress a sigh at the thought that I will never be one of those goals—and my heart gives a start when I look over at him, and see him looking back at me.

“You can stop talking about me now,” he says, and his voice sounds fierce, “we’re here.”

The car stops at almost the same moment. When I look out of the window, we really are in front of the entrance to the Huntington Building, and I quickly escape into the quiet lobby. Jonathan and Alexander Norton stay for a moment by the car talking to each other earnestly before following me inside.

Alexander says goodbye to me at the reception desk. “It was nice to meet you, Grace. If you’re going to be working closely with Jonathan, we’re bound to see other again.” Then he turns to Caroline, who hands him a few papers. Jonathan has already gone to the elevator, and I hastily follow. He doesn’t say a word and his face still looks grim as we ride up to the top floor.

“Are you mad at me?” I ask, because I just can’t stand it anymore. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I’m not angry with you,” he answers curtly. I can’t tell if that’s his way of ending the discussion, or if it’s really something else which has upset him.

Once we get upstairs he storms into his office and when I try to follow him he stops and prevents me from doing so.

“You can’t be present at the next meeting,” he says. I feel insulted.

“Why not?”

“I told you there would be exceptions.”

It’s true. But it still rankles, especially right now. It feels like a punishment.

“Who are you meeting with?” I know it’s forward of me to ask, but I just don’t understand what went wrong.

“Yuuto Nagako,” Jonathan explains, already at the door of his office. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. You can wait in your office.” Then he leaves me alone.

I stand there in front of Catherine Shepard’s desk, indecisive. She’s not there. Which is a good thing because it would have been mortifying to me if she had seen what just happened. Then I turn and go into my office, close the door behind me, and lean against it.