What Lies Between (15 page)

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Authors: Charlena Miller

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BOOK: What Lies Between
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The creak of the heavy front door and the
whoosh
and
click
as it closed set my heart racing. I didn’t knowingly do business with people who wanted to take everything from me. Right now I had no choice. At least time in the foster system had given me plenty of practice dealing with people who didn’t care how their actions hurt me.

A gray-haired man in a tailored suit, carrying a well-worn satchel, strode in and stepped to the side. The man who followed would have been handsome but for the sour expression creased in his face. He had not been a pleasant person for a long time, if ever. His navy-checked button-down shirt served to tuck a slight paunch into neatly pressed jeans. He cared about the appearance of his clothes. Did he notice what his face looked like?

I stood up and took a couple steps around the table, hand extended too far in advance—over-eager—in my effort to greet the people who owned, for the time being, nearly half my property. My arm froze at the same time as my feet as a third man came through the door behind the others.

A weak, airy laugh escaped my lungs. “What are you doing here? What’s going on?” I asked, my voice sounding too shrill and loud in my head.

Ben didn’t answer me, his pale eyes cloaked, unreadable.

The gray-haired man spoke, but my eyes didn’t leave Ben’s.

“Ms. Jameson, I’m Daniel Evans. This is John MacIver and his son, Ben MacIver, my clients. They put up the investment funds for the renovation of the Glenbroch estate. The MacIvers are co-owners in your property until suitable arrangements are determined, which we are here to discuss.”

My throat thickened, impairing my voice. I tried without success to peel my bone-dry tongue off the roof of my mouth. Words came out cracked. “John and Ben MacIver are the investors in Glenbroch?”

Calum nodded, and I could feel him scrutinizing my reaction.

I shook my head, refusing to believe. “No, Ben . . . Mr. MacIver . . . you told me you were a carpenter, or joiner, or whatever you called it, working on the house renovation.”

“That’s true. Working with my hands is my way to work off excess energy.” Ben’s voice sounded out of place, his eyes barren and distant.

“That’s all you have to say? You’re around Glenbroch to work off excess energy?” Shock ran through my limbs like a rush of IV fluids, leaving my body tingling, burning. “Can you please excuse me for a minute?”

Willing my legs to move, I strode past him, past them all, into the hall, through the door of my quarters, into my private kitchen, and leaned over the sink. I felt an unearthly stillness fill me—the kind that permeates every cell of air right before a twister unleashes itself. A white space made of pure, clear instinct with one purpose—survive—subsumed my body. I would never allow the MacIvers to take this estate.

My emotions craved release. Where could I direct the anger churning through my body, refusing to be locked away this time? There were too many people—Gerard, Stan Epstein, Calum, Ben—and I needed every ounce of that anger to be laser focused, not wild and uncontrolled.

Ben. His kiss, the way he held me. Betrayal lined every word, every touch, every kindness. I’d been played in a high stakes match and the enemy had no scruples, no intention of fighting fair. I needed to get my wits together and think.

What had happened between Ben and me was nothing more than a strategic chess move. I didn’t think he was that calculating.

Doesn’t everyone say that after the fact?

Cheers, brilliant strategy. But if the MacIvers had bet I’d be upset enough to sign, they were idiots. Like Gerard, they didn’t know me at all.

I could pick it all apart later. For now, I had to scrape together every shred of steel in myself, and force it cold and hard through my veins. Bind a tourniquet around the bleed tight enough to kill the unwanted feelings that had taken root in my heart.

A splash of cold water on my face, a touchup on the makeup, a brush through my hair.
Be calm.

When I re-entered the room, they all turned and watched me walk around the table to my seat. Needing to steady my nerves, which prowled my limbs like a caged tiger, I avoided their eyes and focused outside the window, across the glen.

Suddenly I felt cornered in this house, the home of the people who shared my blood, the home where I belonged more than any place I ever had. Where were ghosts when I needed their help?

Calum stood, pulled out my chair. “Thank you,” I said, giving him a tight smile and taking my seat. “Let’s keep the meeting short, if you don’t mind. I am sure my stomach won’t lie still for long.”

Ben sat directly across from me. He met my glare, his eyes reflecting no hint of regret, remorse, or even triumph. They showed no hint of emotion at all.

No one spoke, the men appearing, at least to me, to move in slow motion.

“Calum, Mr. Evans? Shall we get on with it?” I asked, impatience rippling in my voice.

My body trembled from the anger firing into high gear. I wanted to reach for my tea, but didn’t want any of them to see the cup shake in my hands; instead, I clasped my hands together in my lap to quiet them.

Calum’s voice broke the silence. “Sorry to hear you are ill, Ellie. Let’s finish up, shall we? I had planned to review the nature of the MacIvers’ investment and the agreement, but perhaps that is not necessary.”

“It isn’t. I have one question. Why did my father, and you, Calum, choose not to reveal the investors’ identities before this meeting?”

My gaze didn’t waver as it bored into Ben, my eyes now flint hard.

Calum answered. “I can discuss that with you at the conclusion of this meeting.”

“Listen, Devlin. Can we get on with this? Both MacIvers still have a full day of work ahead. We need to get this done,” Evans shrilled.

John MacIver, who had been silent until then, spoke. “Ms. Jameson, you may be Gerard MacKinnon’s bastard daughter, but that doesn’t make you qualified to run a place like Glenbroch. Doesn’t make you qualified for much of anything, but that’s not the point of today. I can see that in addition to not having the slightest notion of what it takes to run even a small Highland estate, you are quite highly-strung. Neither of these facts will serve you well here. I strongly advise you not to put your health at further risk. Accept a buy-out now and you can go back to the States and take a tidy sum with you to do whatever a woman like you does.”

My mouth dropped open. A string of curse words bubbled from my lips, unfiltered, unintelligible to anyone else. At least I thought. The corners of Ben’s mouth curved upward with amusement.

Why was I muttering under my breath? I wanted to yell until the walls shook, until people came with a straitjacket. This Highland throwback from a long-dead era was threatening me—probably wished he’d brought his broadsword—and the others were sitting around drinking their tea off their wee china saucers with their tiny little biscuits. If John MacIver wanted to act like it was two hundred years ago, fine by me. I’d be the first to stick a knife through him.

Ben’s eyes searched my face, my movements, obviously trying to read me, get inside my head.

Good luck with that.

I stared back—there wasn’t even a glimmer of what I had seen in his eyes only one day before, hours ago actually. This cold-hearted man would do whatever it took to win . . . but he wasn’t the only one. I turned hardened eyes on the horrible man who spawned him.

“Mr. MacIver, Gerard entered a deal with you for some misguided reason.” I stood up and leaned across the table, lowering my voice. “You’re right, I’m a bastard, a woman, and an American. And I’m out of my element. But you have no clue who you’re dealing with. I’m far more than high-strung—I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Glenbroch. Even I don’t know how far I’ll have to go, but I’ll go there. So if you’re looking for a no holds barred fight then watch your back and make sure your affairs are in order. It will be my pleasure to make you regret the day you became my enemy.”

Thing was, I meant every word, every wicked thought. Whatever it took was utterly concrete to me now. I couldn’t recall ever hating someone so instantly and completely.

No one spoke. In the thick, sweaty silence, the memory of Ben’s hands on me returned. The closeness and heat of his body and the words he had said crept over my skin, making me shudder. But they were only words. And words were so often lies.

Ben’s stone eyes flickered to life, as if he could see my thoughts, and it turned my stomach. At the same time, a draft of heat flamed through my heart at the brief glimpse of the pain that passed through them. Finally having a flash of guilt, remorse? Or wishing he could have slept with me first? In that moment, more than I hated him, I hated myself for letting him get too close to me and for having memories I didn’t want to have.

My hands slammed down on the table, startling Calum into silence mid-sentence. “I’m clear on what is required. Is there anything else needed? If not, I’m done.”

Calum shifted his papers and cleared his throat before addressing the MacIvers and Evans. “Do you have anything to add or any comments?”

“No, I think you’ve covered all the details,” Evans said.

“Okay, well, thank you, gentlemen. I would say the meeting is finished,” Calum announced.

I rose and Calum and Evans followed suit. Daniel Evans reached across to shake my hand and I accepted. Best to be civil and professional. He only worked for the devil—someone had to.

John MacIver stepped in front of me, blocking my path to the door. “Ms. Jameson, you should understand I’m not your enemy. You are, and you proved it here today. I won’t have to lift a finger for you to fail. Your emotions and incompetence will do all the work. Cheers.”

It was my turn not to have a word to say—I was afraid he was right. The sensation came over me again of being trapped far down in the ocean, where the pressure promised to break me into a thousand pieces.

“I have something to say.” 

When I didn’t turn around, Ben’s voice softened. “I said, I need to talk to you, Ms. Jameson.”

Pain bore through the walls of my heart at the gentle tone of his voice.

No, you will not get to me.

I wheeled around to face him. “Everything that needs to be said, has been,” I said, spitting my words with as much poison as I could muster.

“Alone,” he said to Calum.

I stepped in front of the door. “Whatever needs to be said can be said in front of Calum.”

“Please, Calum,” Ben said.

Calum edged around me and closed the door as he left.

Men and their buddy system.

“What do you want?” My words were more of an accusation than a question.

“Ellie—”

“Ms. Jameson to you.”

“I only found out about this meeting this morning. I can see how all of this looks, but please, listen, I—”

Not wanting to hear excuses concocted to loosen my resolve, I interrupted his babbling. “I’m not concerned with how it looks. It’s clear what it is. And simple. You played me. Why? Did Daddy order you to spend time with me, figure out my weaknesses, get to me? Well, you’re smooth, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s not like that. Yes, my father loaned Gerard money. I wanted to tell you, but if I had done . . . I didn’t know how to say it. I tried at the broch. I admit it—I was a coward—
am
a coward. That doesn’t change the fact I think you’re meant to be here. I know you don’t believe me, but I don’t want you to lose Glenbroch.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” Leaning in until my face was only a few inches from his, I locked his eyes in my glare. The menace in my voice shot a bolt of fear through my own veins. I wanted blood—his—and felt certain I was capable of taking it. “You’re a liar is what you are and you may have invested money, but this place is still mine. I will most definitely do whatever it takes, and I mean
whatever,
to get you and your family out of Glenbroch for good. Now get off my property.”

I pulled the door open wide, holding it for him to exit. Ben stopped in front of me, opening his mouth as if he were going to speak. I stared, unflinching. He said nothing, broke his eyes from mine, and strode out. Slamming the door shut behind him, I moved to the window seat and collapsed onto the cushion.

Rain splattered the panes of the room’s windows even as the sun shone over the loch. People were as wickedly undependable as the Highland weather. What had I been thinking to let my heart open up to anyone, and, of all people, someone the likes of Ben MacIver?

And why had I been frivolous with the lessons life had worked so hard to bury in my bones? All of that pain had been for my own good. Because life knew that people would use me and then love other people instead. Forgetting this even for a moment only incited disaster to thunder back into my life with a harsh reminder. And it had come running.

I forced my mind to reflect on the view outside. My great-grandfather’s grandfather had looked upon this same view and crafted the banks of windows to open the house to the west. The panes framed the view down the glen as the sun’s light laced its way through the trees and danced upon the contented water.

What had driven hate deep into the heart of John MacIver? What had happened between him and my father? Whatever it was now stood between John and me. I needed to find out what secret lay in my father’s past and how to stop John before it cost me the one thing I had left: Glenbroch.

Calum entered the room and stopped at the table between us, but I didn’t turn my gaze from the window. My voice held thin control of the anger that had begun to seethe by the end of the meeting. “I will do whatever it takes to retain control of the estate and its assets. I expect you to help make sure I am successful.” I slowly turned a glare in the solicitor’s direction. “Are we clear?”

Calum didn’t look at me as he stuffed papers into his satchel. “Yes, of course.”

His discomfort felt satisfying. He
should
be nervous.

Calum cleared his throat again. “I realize this is a difficult position for you to be in. Gerard wanted as little information provided to you as possible. He was afraid if you had the investors’ details and did your homework you would discover the bad blood between John MacIver and him and wouldn’t come at all once you learned of John’s reputation. You can still walk away, Ellie, but, I’m afraid you won’t receive anything if you do.”

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