It wasn’t often that I allowed my thoughts to get that far. Sophie broke me when she left. She took my heart and tore it from my chest. Now, I was nothing more than an empty shell. I went through the motions of my life, taking one day at a time but never truly feeling alive. Most of the time, I didn’t even feel awake. It was like my entire life had become a dream.
Just before lunch, my office phone rang sharply. I frowned and stared at it. My employees knew never to call me.
“This is Andrew Hopper,” I said as I pressed the phone to my ear.
“Mr. Hopper,” the voice said. “I’m calling on behalf of a client.”
“Which client?” I asked.
“They’ve asked that I keep their name private,” the woman said. “Is that all right?”
“Sure,” I said, frowning with confusion. “How can I help you?”
“You’re in possession of an old compass,” the woman said. She described the piece quickly. “The client wants to purchase it from you as soon as possible. They’re offering three thousand dollars.”
“For a compass?” I blinked.
“Yes,” the woman said. “Is that price acceptable?”
“I need to locate the compass before I can agree to anything,” I said.
“Take your time,” the woman said simply.
“Please hold.”
I put her on hold and then pulled up the catalogue on my computer. Every piece in our collection was in the system with a picture and an accurate description. The price estimate for the compass was just under one hundred dollars.
I stared blankly at the picture of the compass. Who would pay three thousand dollars for something like that?
“Are you there?” I asked as I picked up the phone again.
“Yes,” the woman said. “Did you find the compass?”
“I did,” I said. “You’re sure about the price?”
“Positive.”
My instinct was to correct her, to tell her she was offering way too much money, but I stopped myself. The company needed money. Despite all the help Sophie gave us, we were still getting back on our feet. I wasn’t in the position to turn down so much money.
“I’ll have someone bring over the compass today,” I said simply. “Can I have an address to meet your client?”
“No,” the woman said. “The client requested that you bring the compass yourself.”
I frowned. That didn’t make sense. I was the owner of the company. No one ever requested that I personally deliver an item. It was understood that my time was far too precious to run errands.
“I’m not sure that’s possible,” I said. “I’m a very busy man.”
“That’s the deal,” the woman said firmly. “They will only purchase the compass if it is delivered by you.”
I wanted to say no, but something stopped me. My curiosity was piqued.
“Okay,” I said. “That’s fine. I’ll pick up the compass and bring it this afternoon. Where am I going?”
“A coffee shop in town,” the woman said. She gave me the address and then said a quick goodbye.
I was left staring at the phone in disbelief. This was by far the oddest exchange I’d ever had. When I looked back at my computer screen, the compass was still staring back at me. It was old and grimy, broken beyond repair. There was no way this compass was worth three thousand dollars.
Shaking my head, I stood up and headed to the storage warehouse to collect the compass, eager to meet the person so hell-bent on having it.
***
The coffee shop seemed familiar. When I pulled up out front, I couldn’t help but think I’d been there before. Something about it tugged at my memory, but I didn’t have time to think about it. My meeting was about to start. I needed to get inside before the client arrived.
I tucked the compass deep inside my pocket and hurried through the doors. Even though it was wrapped in protective sheets, I worried it would become jostled as I walked. Whoever this mystery client was, they were willing to pay three grand for it. I couldn’t afford to let something happen to it in transit.
My head moved side to side as I searched the room. The coffee shop was small, tiny really. There were only a few people inside, none of whom seemed to be waiting for someone. I found an empty table and sat down facing the door. My mystery client would be arriving any minute.
It wasn’t long before the front door clanged open. I jerked my head up to see Sophie walking toward me.
My breath caught in my chest as our eyes met. She was staring at me with a determined expression I knew all too well. Her jaw was set tight, and her gait was strong. She held her head up high and her shoulders squared as if she were readying herself for a fight.
“What are you doing here?” I asked when she reached me.
“I’m your client,” she said simply.
She pulled out the chair in front of her and sat down. My eyes roamed over her face as I tried to read her mind. I didn’t understand what was going on. None of this made sense.
“You’re the client?” I asked blankly. “I don’t understand.”
“Did you bring the compass?” she asked.
“Yes.” I nodded and reached inside my pocket. I pulled out the compass and laid it flat on the table, carefully unfolding the paper.
“Is this the only compass you have in your possession?” Sophie asked, her tone clipped and professional.
“Yes.” I nodded again. “Why do you want it?”
“This is what my father broke in to steal.”
Sophie’s eyes met mine, and I felt a weight fall into my stomach.
“What?” I blinked.
“My father,” Sophie said. “When he broke into your house, he was looking for this compass.”
I shook my head. “But why?”
Sophie sighed and leaned back in her chair. Her green eyes softened slightly. She still looked angry, but there was something else in her expression now.
“My parents found this compass together,” Sophie said. “On their very first expedition. When my mom died, Hopper Antiquities came over to collect certain artifacts for auction.”
“I remember,” I said quickly.
“Well, your employees took this compass by mistake,” Sophie said. “It wasn’t part of the collection, but somehow, it ended up in one of the crates.”
“An oversight,” I said. “It happens.”
Sophie nodded. “Well, my father wanted it back for sentimental reasons. That’s why he broke into your house. That’s why he was there that night.”
I stared at her. None of this made sense. Why would Rick risk getting arrested, or worse, for some old compass? Even if it was his late wife’s, why didn’t he just request to get it back?
“This doesn’t make sense,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “If Rick wanted the compass back, why didn’t he call me? Why not just pick up the phone?”
“He was heartbroken,” Sophie said. “He wasn’t thinking clearly. All he wanted was the compass, nothing else mattered.”
My eyes met Sophie’s again, and I felt my stomach flip. She was staring back at me. So many unspoken emotions flew between us that I didn’t know what to say. I understood how it felt to have your heart ripped out, to want nothing more than for the pain to stop. If that was how Rick felt that night, I could see why he acted irrationally.
“Three thousand, right?” Sophie asked. She dug inside her purse and pulled out an envelope. She tossed it across the table, and it landed with a heavy thud in front of me. I stared down at it blankly.
“It’s not worth that much,” I said. “It’s barely worth anything at all.”
“It’s worth everything to my father,” Sophie said. “I’ll pay whatever you want, Andrew.”
Hearing Sophie say my name was enough to make my chest ache. Her eyes held my gaze like a magnet. I couldn’t look away.
“Please,” Sophie said. “Just, can I have it?”
“You can have it,” I said quickly. “Of course, you can h
ave it.”
“Great,” Sophie said. “Thank you.”
She pushed the envelope closer to me and reached for the compass. I watched as she carefully wrapped it up in the protective sleeve and tucked it away inside her purse.
“I don’t want this,” I said just as Sophie rose from her seat. I pushed the envelope to her, not even wanting to touch it. It felt dirty somehow.
“What?” Sophie asked.
“You don’t have to pay for it, Sophie,” I said. “The compass was your father’s to begin with.”
“But we owe you something for it.”
“I only had it by mistake,” I said. “Just take it. Please.”
Sophie stared down at the envelope. When she slowly lifted her gaze to meet mine, her green eyes were filled with emotion. She shook her head and closed her eyes. I stood up and reached out for her before I could think better of it.
In an instant, she’d taken three steps backward. She shook her head and looked away. I sighed and let my arms drop back to my sides.
“Come with me,” Sophie said.
“What?” I blinked.
“I want to take the compass to my father,” Sophie said. “But you should come, too.”
“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” I said, shaking my head.
“Please, Andrew.”
Sophie’s voice was soft and pleading. I couldn’t say no to her. I nodded and watched as she tucked the money back inside her purse. We made our way toward the exit, my body acutely aware of how close she was.
Chapter 30
Sophie
Andrew drove behind me, keeping his distance but making sure not to stray too far behind. I watched him in my rearview mirror, terrified that he might disappear if I looked away. Seeing him again almost broke me. I could barely contain myself when I walked inside the coffee shop. Andrew looked exactly the same as before. Only this time, there was a darkness about him that broke my heart.
I blamed myself for the darkness. When I left, I hurt him. Andrew had told me the truth, and I lashed out. I blamed him for everything when really, it was my father who made the mistake. It took me a long time to come to terms with everything that happened. My dad’s moment of insanity. Andrew’s refusal to be understanding. My indentured servitude. It all felt like a horrible nightmare that I was desperate to pull myself out of.
Two days after I learned the truth, I found myself lying in bed, thinking about Andrew. I missed him more than I thought possible. His absence was like a physical presence in my life. He had become a monster that haunted my dreams and my waking hours. I couldn’t go more than an hour without seeing his face in my mind, without wishing I could fall into his arms one more time.
I thought about calling to apologize. After all, Andrew had told me the truth. Even though it wasn’t what I wanted to hear, he didn’t lie to me. Not once. Still, I was angry with him. Despite everything, I hated him for threatening my father. Andrew had known my dad for years, almost his entire life, and he should have given him the benefit of the doubt. He should have heard him out. He should have listened before he threatened.
It was all too complicated to handle. My feelings for Andrew never faded. I was angry and hurt, confused and in shock, but I still cared about him. My heart called out to him every single day. I fought the urge to drive to his house and see his face in person. I wanted to be with him more than ever, but every time I thought about it, something stopped me.
Things between Andrew and my father were complicated and tense. Both were wrong in their own way, but only my father had broken the law. I couldn’t see a time when they would be able to make amends, when things would ever improve between them.
My father’s guilt ate at him every day. He hated himself for breaking into the Hopper mansion. I saw it in his eyes every time he looked at me. The idea of forcing him to be around Andrew was too much for me to handle. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt my own father that way. Until now.
I pulled into my dad’s driveway and cut off the engine. Andrew pulled up behind me and did the same. We each got out of our cars and slowly made our way to the front door. I glanced at Andrew’s face, but I didn’t speak. What was there to say?
“Are you sure about this?” Andrew asked as we stepped up to the front door. “I doubt your father wants to see me.”
“I can’t imagine you want to see him, either,” I said. “But I think it’s time we all put this behind us.”
“And you think we can?” Andrew asked doubtfully. “You think that’s possible?”
“It has to be.” My voice was soft, but Andrew heard me. He frowned and silently asked me to explain. I shook my head and knocked on the door.
Seconds later, my father appeared in the window. He looked from me to Andrew and then back again. Fear flickered in his eyes, but he pushed it away quickly and opened the door.
“Sophie,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”
“Something came up,” I said, glancing at Andrew. “I wanted to see you.”
“Okay.” Dad nodded slowly. “Well, um, come inside.”
“Thanks.”
We stepped over the threshold, and I could feel Andrew tense beside me. As far as I knew, he’d never stepped foot inside my parents’ house before. He looked around, his eyes settling anywhere but on my father’s face. This was going to be harder than I thought.
“Can we sit down?” I asked, gesturing toward the living room. “I think the three of us should talk.”
“Sure.” Dad shrugged and led the way forward. He kept glancing back at Andrew with a frown, waiting for him to speak.
When my eyes fell on Andrew’s face, I saw how nervous he was. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized Andrew felt some guilt, too. After finding out the real reason for my father’s break-in, Andrew was conflicted. Deep down, I knew he was still angry, but suddenly, things were no longer black and white.
“So,” Dad said when we were all seated. “What’s going on? Why are you both here?”
“I went to see Andrew today,” I said slowly. “Or, well, I met him.”
“Okay,” Dad said slowly. His eyes shifted from my face to Andrew’s.
“She wanted to buy a piece from me,” Andrew said, finally finding his voice. It was stronger than I expected. “A piece that was once yours.”
Realization dawned on Dad’s face. He looked at me sternly, his eyes flying wide. At first, I thought he was angry, but when he blinked, I saw a new emotion spread across his face. Pain.
“I told him everything,” I said. “Dad, I just thought he should know the truth. All that time, he’s thought of you as a thief, but that isn’t true. It’s not true at all.”
“Yes, it is,” Dad said firmly. “Whatever my reasons were, I broke in to Andrew’s house. I tried to steal from him.”
“Only something that was already yours.”
Andrew’s tone was more understanding than I could have hoped. He looked at my dad with a kindness I’d only ever seen him direct at me. I sighed with relief. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as hard as I first thought.
“I’m sorry,” Dad said, looking straight at Andrew. “I know what I did was stupid.”
“Rick,” Andrew said. “You could have just called me. I would have returned the compass.”
“I know.” Dad sighed. “I was out of my mind. It’s no excuse.”
“I understand,” Andrew said quickly. “You were heartbroken. Nothing felt real anymore, and you simply reacted. I get it.”
Andrew looked down at his hands, and my stomach tightened painfully. Was he talking about me?
“It was wrong,” Dad said. “After everything your father and I went through together, I shouldn’t have acted that way.”
“It wasn’t just you,” Andrew said quickly. “You weren’t the only one who made mistakes that night.”
Andrew sighed and shook his head. He was still staring at his hands. His face was red, and as I watched him, I realized that I’d never seen him this
nervous.
“The way I reacted was immature,” Andrew said. He lifted his eyes to meet my father’s. “You and my dad were great friends, Rick. I’ve known you for years, and I should have stopped to listen to you. If I’d given you the chance to explain yourself, then none of this would have happened. When I think about my behavior that night, I’m ashamed.”
Dad shook his head and smiled. He leaned forward and held Andrew’s gaze the way only a father could.
“You did what anyone would have done,” Dad said. “You may not believe this, but George would have done the exact same thing.”
“My father?” Andrew narrowed his eyes in disbelief.
Dad nodded. “George had the shortest fuse of anyone I’ve ever known,” Dad said with a soft laugh. “If he caught someone breaking in to his office, I can’t even imagine how angry he would have been.”
“Everyone always said my father was quick to forgive,” Andrew said. “That he was kind and loyal, never angry.”
“Well, they’re right,” Dad said. “But George was also quick to overreact. He was spontaneous and slightly crazy. He very rarely stopped to think about anything. He just reacted and then dealt with the consequences later.”
“That’s true,” Andrew said with a nod. Something dark flashed through his eyes.
“He was quick to forgive, but he was also quick to blame,” Dad said. “I’m telling you, Andrew, George would have done the same thing you did that night. He may have even been worse.”
“You two were really close, weren’t you?” I asked softly.
Dad nodded sadly. He smiled and sighed, looking out the window with a wistful stare. In that moment, he missed George.
“We were,” he said. “In a lot of ways, George was my best friend. I think I knew him better than anyone. Other than Emily, of course.”
“I’m surprised we never met,” I said to Andrew.
“Me too.” Andrew’s eyes met mine, and my stomach filled with butterflies. I suddenly found myself wanting to be alone with him.
“Emily kept Andrew busy,” Dad said. “She was determined that you have a life outside of that damn company.”
Debt Collector_A Billionaire Bad Boy Novel Page 19
