Page 85 of Awaiting the Storm
“Matty, I didn’t lie to you,” he insists. “You’ll understand in a second. Just … come with me.”
I don’t want to follow him inside. Every instinct is screaming that this is a setup. But my boots keep moving, and I follow him through the heavy wood doors and into the low-lit dining room that smells like heaven, sweet and smoky, beef and bourbon.
The hostess smiles, ready to greet us, but Carl waves her off. “We’re just grabbing a table in the bar.”
She nods, and he leads the way.
My nerves are on edge as we walk past tables of well-dressed patrons, men in crisp suits, women in pearls, and couples holding hands and enjoying a romantic dinner by candlelight. We turn the corner toward the bar, and he steers me to a tall two-top on the far side.
I reach for the chair, but Carl places a hand on my lower back and gently guides me to the other side.
The one facing the rest of the room.
“Carl, what the hell is going on?”
He doesn’t answer. Just gives me a tight smile. “Just sit.”
I lower myself onto the stool, heart thumping against my ribs. I watch as Carl walks over to the bar and orders drinks. His back is turned.
And then I glance left.
I freeze.
Holland Ludlow is seated at a round table across the room. Caison sits beside him, a glass in his hand, his head slightly bowed. There’s a man I don’t recognize, and seated across from Caison is Giles Godwin.
My stomach twists into a hard knot.
I can’t hear their conversation, not from this far, but I can read the mood—relaxed and celebratory. Holland’s laughing, pouring something from a bottle. Caison leans in to say something to Giles, who nods.
Then they stand.
The stranger shakes everyone’s hand and excuses himself. I watch as he makes his way to the hostess stand. She goes to retrieve his jacket while he stares at his phone. When he disappears through the wooden door, I turn back to the table.
Giles says something to Caison and claps him on the shoulder.
But it’s Holland’s voice that cuts through the air, bold and booming.
“Welcome aboard,” he says with a smile that makes my blood run cold. “Ironhorse is happy to have you.”
I stare. Unmoving as my mind races.
Carl reappears at my side, two tumblers in his hands. He sets one in front of me, but I don’t reach for it. I’m still locked on the scene across the room.
“That’s what you needed to see,” he says, low. “Told you that you couldn’t trust him.”
I don’t respond. I can’t. My ears are ringing. My chest is tight.
Caison—he said he had to cancel because something urgent came up. He promised to text later. Said he’d see me on Wednesday.
But he didn’t mention anything about this. He didn’t say he was sitting down to dinner with my horse trainer. That he was helping Holland poach Giles right out from under me.
“I don’t believe it,” I say.
“I didn’t believe it either,” Carl says, leaning in. “I was across the street at the café when I saw Giles walking down the sidewalk. I came out to catch him because I wanted to let him know that I would be a little late tomorrow morning since I was going to look at a house that had come up for lease. That’s when I saw Holland and that well-to-do guy. They were waiting for Giles in front of the building. They shook hands and then walked inside.”
I swallow hard as I continue to watch the three of them.
“I came in and sat down right here, trying to listen to what they were discussing. Then Galloway arrived. I spoke to their server after he brought out their food and asked if he knew what was happening. He mentioned that they were celebrating a significant deal and hiring one of the guys. That’s when I decided to call you.”
