Page 192 of Enthrall Shadows
This could be another ruse.
“Cameron.” I turned to face him. “I’ll call you later.”
He hesitated and then gave me a glance that said to be careful. He headed out but left the door open.
Lilly looked from the door to me, conveying she’d rather have it closed.
I ignored that and sat back down, crossing one leg over the other and waiting for her to join me.
My demeanor was harsh, but I wasn’t in the mood for games.
Half an hour ago, I’d watched our corporate spy be frog marched out the fucking building.
I was out of patience.
Jen brought in a tray of tea and set it on the table between us. I thanked her and watched her leave. She got the hint we needed the door to remain open.
I poured black tea into two cups and added a dash of milk. Lilly declined sugar and I handed her the drink.
She lifted the cup and took a sip. “I drank Cole Tea growing up.”
I didn’t need to hear that.
She drew in a sharp breath. “You and Mom got off on the wrong foot in Florida.”
“What makes you say that?”
“She told me about your emotional reunion.”
I blinked at her, holding back the words to express what I’d really felt when seeing her mom was alive and well and thriving.
The hurt she’d caused was irreparable—so much pain I doubted we’d ever return to any level of trust.
“This is obviously hard on you both,” she said.
Glancing at my watch, I made it clear her time was limited.
“I want you to hear what really happened to Mom in Chile,” she said softly. “The catalyst.”
“How do you mean?”
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back.
We managed to beat the Friday morning traffic.
Richard parked his BMW outside de Sade’s impressive home on Mulholland Drive.
We’d just navigated our way up the winding driveway to his mansion, which was situated in a prime location surrounded by a lot of land. The sweeping structure featured glass windows that revealed the interior, so having all those trees made sense.
Jake had bought the property during the years he’d taken a battering as a quarterback in the NFL.
Richard’s place in Malibu was just as impressive. He didn’t bat an eyelid at the four-story glass palace we’d pulled up to.
De Sade’s Lamborghini was parked in the driveway, along with several other flashy sports cars. This was a meeting of multi-millionaires, but Richard’s Mercedes-Benz looked modest next to the fancy vehicles.
Richard wore jeans and a black T-shirt and sandals—the uniform of the wealthy. I’d chosen my little black dress and a pair of flats—though my Jimmy Choo Callie purse did add a touch of bling. I was trying to cheer myself up.
Two days ago, I’d chugged champagne because Henry had visited with an indecent proposal. I’d been tempted to sayyes.
