Page 29 of Catching a Con Man

“Oh. Thank you, I guess.” I stopped at the gates and waited for them to open. “Why are you helping me over Dad?”

“Because…I think you’re right. I think you’re a good judge of character, and if you get tricked into sending your business down the shitter, then you’re not half the businessman I think you are. That and when Dad finds out who I’ve been seeing, I want you to have my back.”

I snorted. “Shall I ask?”

“Nope. Especially as my future husband doesn’t even know who I am yet.” Cam gave a nervous half-smile. “I promise I’ll explain. At some point.”

The Uber I’d booked pulled up outside the gates, and I opened the door to get in when Cam spoke again. “I’ll start tomorrow. I want an office, and a secretary. And a private pool.”

“You can have one of those things,” I grinned. “Just hope you get the one youreallywant.”

Tyler

“How do I look?” I asked Amanda. She was sat at the dining table crunching on some toast.

“Expensive,” she said. I gave a little twirl, and she wolf-whistled. “Watch out, they’ll be ripping your clothes off before you can even start to talk.

“Oh, stop it,” I joked.

“Right, you’re going in strong, remember. You only want to con them all out of their money.”

I took the toast from her hand and took a bite. “I actually want this job, you know.”

“Working for amorally bankrupt, corrupt class of people? Mind you, you’re stealing toast now, so God knows what horrors you’re capable of.”

“Ade isn’t like that,” I said. “He’s…”

“Oh my God, you were about to saydifferent. No take-backsies. You must really like him.”

I could feel myself blushing, and I threw the crust of the toast back onto her plate. “Yes,” I muttered. “He’s quite nice.”

“In bed?”

“That too.”

“Wowee. When you bringing him back here?” Amanda gestured around the kitchen. “Chateau de mess.”

“I’m not. He could be my boss after today. There’ll be no…none of that stuff any more. I’m sure it was just a one-time thing.”

“And doesheknow that?” Amanda asked. “Or is he expecting some executive favours?”

“Right,” I pretended to check my watch. “I’m going to be very late. I’ll see you later.”

“Break a leg!” Amanda called out as I slipped through the front door.

I walked through the student-filled suburb of Cathays to the city centre, dodging fallen bins and the occasional hypodermic needle as I walked. I let myself imagine Ade walking through the mean streets of the rougher parts of Cardiff, and wanted to laugh. I couldn’t imagine it. He was so perfectly ensconced in his billion-dollar world that I couldn’t imagine him here.

Which is why I had to throw away whatever silly little thoughts I was having about us, after that beautiful weekend in a foreign country, protected from the outside world. Because once the real world had intruded, I’d suddenly felt unable to look at him in the same way. It reminded me of the ridiculous imbalance between us, the shop boy and the tech billionaire. And despite him extending his generosity to me with the offer to pitch to his charitable foundation, it still felt justwrong.

I felt even more wrong as I walked through the crowds nearer to Electro’s tower in Cardiff city centre. The modern skyscraper had helped a high-end business district to grow around it, and though the expensive clothes that Ade had bought me helped me to blend in amongst the businessmen, the battered library-issue laptop bag probably gave me away completely.

I walked into the air-conditioned lobby, with its high ceilings and businesspeople bustling about, looking more relaxed than I ever thought I could.Fuck.No. I could do this. This was my chance to get myself out of a rut I’d been in for a long time. Too long, if I were entirely honest.

I introduced myself to a very glamorous lady at reception, who gave me a visitor’s badge and advised I sit over on a leather sofa whilst she made the relevant calls. So I sat, feeling swallowed by the space and all that it stood for as I waited for some faceless member of a hiring committee to come and get me. Ade had told me that diversity was important to him, but almost everyone walking into the lobby fitted themale, pale and staledemographic. Not that I could complain, I was ticking two of those boxes.

Then someone coughed quietly, and I looked up into the pale blue eyes of someone who fit the same two boxes as I did. The man stood in front of me couldn’t be much older than twenty-five, with a mop of dark hair and round, thick-rimmed spectacles that made his eyes look huge.

“Um, hi,” he said, holding out his hand to me. “I’m Cameron. Cameron Crane, Cam to my friends. I’ve come to collect you for your interview.”

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