Page 55 of Somebody's Watching Me
She fingered his bow tie. “Yes.”
An older model pickup truck in tip-top condition rambled up to the house, parking right off the driveway. “Is that Ty?” Devon asked.
Simone brought him over to meet her brother, and the first thing out Ty’s mouth was, “Has he met Ben?”
“Mind your business.” Simone crossed her arms. “You’re as bad as an old woman trying to stir something up.”
“I’ll be meeting him soon,” Devon replied, grinning at how flustered she seemed. “Hopefully, the next time he’s in town.”
“He’s flying in tomorrow,” Ty said, smiling along with him. “Or did my sister forget to mention that?”
“She did.”
Ty pulled out a wallet from his back pocket and presented him with a business card. “This is Ben’s private local office number. Call at nine sharp and only speak to Hillary. That’s his personal assistant.”
“Why does he have to call at nine sharp?” Simone asked warily.
Clucking his tongue, Ty rolled his eyes. “Because I’m calling at ten to find out what all was said.”
The following day, Devon called the Fairweather offices and asked to speak to Hillary. When she answered, the woman sounded irrationally annoyed for so early in the workday.
“This is Hillary.”
“My name is Devon Howard.”
There was a pause and then Hillary spoke again, shooting rapid fire instructions at him. “Mr. Fairweather said if you were to call, I should remind you of your meeting with him at Markham’s restaurant in Port Michaelson. Tonight. Seven on the dot.”
“Uh? Okay?” The line went dead, and he held the phone out to stare at it. “What just happened?”
He thought about calling Simone and telling her of the meeting but decided against it. The woman needed to learn to have faith in him. He would get this over with, and Ben Fairweather would no longer be a concern.
A little before seven he arrived at Markham’s and, after giving his name to the hostess, was shown into a rear private room. While he waited, a lone waitress entered to take his drink order. She returned a few minutes later with his request and an empty second glass, which she placed in front of the vacant seat across from him.
“Mr. Fairweather will be with you shortly,” she said, pulling a bottle of scotch from the sidebar to sit next to the empty glass. “He’s good about not keeping his guests waiting for very long.”
And that was most certainly the truth. Not but a moment later, Benjamin Fairweather swept into the room just as the waitress left.
“Never call me at the office again.”
The man was everything Devon expected. An elitist in a thousand-dollar suit with no care or concern for anyone but himself.
“I called the number Ty gave me.”
The corner of Ben’s mouth ticked as he removed his suit jacket to hang on the back of the chair. “Listening to that jackass will get you into trouble.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that.”
With a heavy sigh, Ben sat and poured himself two fingers of scotch. “And you’re already in trouble, by the way.” He tossed back the liquor in one go and poured another. “You didn’t tell SiSi you were meeting me.”
Devon ran a finger over the rim of his glass, holding back the urge to down his drink. He needed something to steady his nerves but wanted to keep his wits about him. “I bet she knows now, thanks to you.”
“Keeping secrets from her is flat out stupid,” Ben replied. “And I’m not stupid.”
“If you say so.”
Ben’s glass paused on the way to his lips, and with a smug half smile, he knocked back another two fingers. “You honest to God think she’s going to marry you.”
It wasn’t a question. “That’s my business.”
