by A. E. Radley
“It’s still early,” Emily offered, hoping to sway her decision.
“I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow.”
Emily knew something was up but decided to allow Olivia to have her escape. “Okay, well, thank you so much for…well, for everything.”
“Thank you.” Olivia looked at Lucy. “Dinner was wonderful.” She turned away, then turned back as if remembering something. “And you have a lovely home.”
“Thank you. We’d love to have you back here again,” Lucy offered.
Olivia smiled and nodded noncommittally before turning and walking out the open front door. Emily walked her to her car. Olivia said goodnight to Tom as they passed him on his way back, and when they reached the car, she stood nervously.
“I’m sorry…for…” She gestured towards the house.
Emily frowned. “Sorry for the part where you agreed to help me organise my finances? Or the part where you were the perfect dinner guest? The part where you defended Henry from that horrible man? Or where you soothed him to sleep?”
“I—”
Emily leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Olivia’s cheek. “Thank you, really. I can’t show my gratitude enough. I’m so happy we reconnected.”
Olivia blushed and nodded a few times, seemingly unsure of what to do. She pointed to her car, and Emily stood to one side to allow her access to the vehicle.
When Olivia was seated and ready to go, she opened the window. “I’ll…call you…about the paperwork.”
“I look forward to it.” Emily smiled wryly.
Olivia coughed nervously and then gave a small wave goodbye as she drove away.
CHAPTER 22
The restaurant was one Seb had never been to before, and never intended to go to again. The mismatched furniture and crockery was supposedly charming. To him, it simply gave an air of disorganisation. Irene smiled as her tea was served in a cup and saucer; a teapot with a different print was placed beside it. He huffed and she gave him that look. The one of silent admonishment. Ten minutes later, well after the agreed time, their guest finally arrived.
Donald Smythe was a tall, unkempt man who always wore the same dark trench coat. It appeared as if he had watched one too many 1940s private eye movies and dived head first into the culture without a second thought.
He pulled back a rickety chair and sat at the gingham-covered table, looking completely out of place.
“Well?” Seb questioned. He was still angry about what had happened the previous evening with Henry. He wanted answers, and the man in front of him was hopefully going to deliver them.
Donald looked up with a smug grin. “All in good time.” He tutted before waving down a waitress and ordering himself drinks and a sandwich.
Despite paying the man very well for his services, Seb always seemed to end up footing the bill for his meals as well. Not that he could complain; hiring a private detective was a shady business, and the last thing he wanted was to be on the wrong side of one. Especially the dishevelled and arrogant one in front of him.
“Mrs. Brennan,” Donald greeted with a smirk.
“Mr. Smythe,” Irene replied softly, focusing on her tea. Of course, she had no desire to be there; she’d made that perfectly clear earlier. It was only after Seb had complained bitterly at the prospect of going alone that she had finally agreed to come along.
A waitress placed a mug of coffee and a glass of juice in front of Donald before quickly making her exit.
Donald leaned forward and theatrically sniffed the coffee before taking a loud slurp and letting out a satisfied sigh. He lowered the mug back down to the table, reached into his pocket, and placed his notepad on the wrinkled tablecloth. He leafed through the pages, deliberately slowly, and Seb let out a sigh at the continued delay.
He cursed the day he’d instructed Donald to investigate Emily. Just four weeks into working with the man, and he already loathed the cloak-and-dagger in-person meetups. Of course, he’d used private detectives before for corporate reasons, but this was different. He needed someone with less scruples. Someone who was happy to do what needed to be done with no questions asked. Donald was that man, but he was also melodramatic in a way that made Seb want to overturn the table and grab him by the throat.
From the first time they spoke, Seb knew that Donald had the potential to be problematic. But his lack of moral integrity also made him perfect for the job at hand. Seb would suffer Donald’s quirks and delays as long as he continued to produce results. The second Donald stopped being of use, Seb would cut him loose. Of course, he had a contingency plan in case Donald became troublesome. It was essential to have blackmail material at the ready when dealing with lowlifes like Donald.
“The car,” Donald announced, “is registered to an Olivia Lewis.”
“What?” Seb asked, shocked. “Olivia Lewis, are you sure?”
Donald looked intrigued by Seb’s reaction. “Absolutely. I pride myself on giving correct information. The car in the photograph is registered to Olivia Lewis.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, unfolded it, and slid it across the table.
Seb looked at the photocopy of Olivia’s driver’s license and let out a sigh. “That’s her.”
“You know her?” Irene queried.
“She owns Applewood Financial, Marcus’s old company.”
“Will you be pressing charges for assault?” Donald asked.
The waitress returned with a sandwich stuffed with everything the kitchen had to offer, presumably the most expensive thing on the menu. Seb looked at the sandwich and shook his head in disgust. But Donald had provided some information that was worthwhile, so Seb decided to allow him to eat in peace.
“No.” Seb shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to go to court for being harassed by a woman with a broken leg. He’d never hear the end of it from the other club members.
“Could be a lot of money there,” Donald pointed out. He lifted the sandwich and took an enormous bite, most of the filling falling to the plate.
“Why would she be at Emily’s home?” Irene asked.
Seb stared at the photocopied credentials. Things were starting to come together. Surely, the only thing that connected the two women was Marcus. Marcus had effectively destroyed Olivia’s life, so why would she now be at Emily’s house? Of course someone like Olivia wouldn’t be socialising with someone of Emily’s class. And that led to one obvious conclusion: she was using Emily to get information. If Olivia wasn’t such an unbalanced bitch, he would have shaken her hand. It was inspired. “She’s using Emily to get information on Marcus’s new venture,” he concluded out loud.
“That seems very underhanded,” Irene stated.
“She threatened me. You saw it with your own eyes, woman. She’s not a very nice person,” Seb bit out.
“Emily was a flight attendant with Crown,” Donald said, already two-thirds of the way through his sandwich. “And Olivia used to frequently fly with them. It’s not a stretch to assume they met there.” He took another enormous bite, demolishing the meal.
“Yes, yes,” Seb mused. “I can see it now. Olivia goes to see Marcus—Marcus told me about her turning up there, practically begging, he said. She probably bumped into Emily, recognised her from Crown. Decided to make friends and see what she could find out. Or, maybe she knows of Emily’s debts and is paying Emily for information. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past her to blackmail Emily. We know how violent and unhinged she is.”
Seb leaned back and licked his lips as he considered the situation. “Oh, this is very good for us.” He turned to Irene, who was frowning in confusion.
“How so? Should we tell Marcus? Surely this could be damaging to him?” Irene questioned.
“Not yet.” Seb smirked. “This is further leverage for us.”
Irene looked up. “Donald, thank you for bringing us this information. Could Seb and I speak privately?”
Donald nodded. “Absolutely. I’ll send you my invoice. Let me
know what you want me to do next.” He stood up and downed the tall glass of juice in a few short gulps. He looked at the empty plate and then at Seb. “Would you mind? I’ll get the next one.”
Seb nodded and waved the man away. As soon as he was gone, he turned back to Irene.
“We have to think practically about this. Emily has denied us the opportunity to see Henry, and now she’s done it once, she’s bound to do it again. We have no legal right to see him. She could choose to take him away from us.”
“I think we should simply talk to her again. She’s a reasonable young woman. I’m sure if we could all just talk—”
“No. This isn’t the time for talking; it’s the time for action.” He smacked his palm on the table. Irene startled in her seat and the waitress’s eyes darted in their direction. Seb lowered his head a little, and his voice. “At the moment we are in a good position. We know that she is in financial trouble and suspect she is feeding information to Olivia Lewis, a direct competitor to her employer. Both of those things will damage her in court.”
“Seb—”
“Think about it. What if she’s being paid off by Olivia? What if we try to talk to her and she strings us along for a few weeks while she gets a nice payout? A few weeks down the line and she’s no longer in debt, her living situation has improved, and she’s no longer in contact with Olivia. We wouldn’t have a case.”
Irene absentmindedly stirred her tea, a pensive look on her face.
“We want what’s best for Henry,” Seb nudged. “You’ve seen that house. You know the debt she’s in. She can’t look after him. And now she’s hanging out with violent people? People who are probably paying her to spy? I think you can safely call that a criminal. Our grandson is in a house with criminals.”
Irene swallowed and slowly nodded. “Okay. We should speak with our lawyer and see what he says.”
CHAPTER 23
Olivia carelessly tossed her mobile phone onto her desk and sighed. “We’ve lost Greg.”
Simon nodded grimly and stood up, picking up a marker from the table. He stood by one of the five large whiteboards that had been set up in Olivia’s New York office and swiped a line through Greg’s name.
Olivia gently rubbed her eyes, not giving a damn about her mascara. She’d stopped caring what she looked like in the office days ago. The speed at which the crisis was growing and her company dissolving had put such things into stark perspective.
She stared at the whiteboards and let out a sigh. Olivia was gifted with the ability to see the bigger picture clearly in her mind’s eye. But she knew that was a trait the few loyal employees she had left didn’t possess. So she had put the whiteboards up as a visual demonstration of their wins and losses. Clients were listed from most to least profitable, lines through the losses and green circles around the secured.
It helped morale when she circled a retained client, but having the whiteboards directly in her line of vision all day, every day, had only reinforced how much she’d lost. It wasn’t just clients; it was the people. The relationships she’d built up over years of working together had been torn down in just a few short days.
Those clients that hadn’t left over pricing had left because of relationships they had forged with Olivia’s ex-employees. She’d lost count of the number of clients who had apologetically said they were leaving because their Applewood account manager had left. She didn’t understand the breaking down of business relationships. She had shaken hands with these people. Dined with them. Suddenly they were leaving in droves and she felt helpless to do anything about it.
Olivia had a few choice names for Marcus, but even she had to begrudgingly admit that his strategy had been inspired. Pursuing key team members and offering them exclusive packages had enabled him to set up a dream team without any work. The staff and the low pricing had enabled him to do what she would have said was impossible.
Simon smothered a yawn as he stared at the whiteboard. He looked exhausted. Olivia felt guilty about the amount of work she was forcing on him. Not to mention the fact that she was keeping him away from his friends, family, and girlfriend. But Simon never complained. He’d been everything Olivia needed and more. She made a mental note to thank him with an appropriately large gesture, if and when the worst of the situation ever passed.
A phone outside Olivia’s office started to ring, and Simon headed out to answer it. Olivia stared at the whiteboard, hoping for a solution to somehow make itself seen in the mess.
Her desk phone bleeped, and she picked up the receiver. “Yes?”
“It’s Emily. She says it’s urgent.” Simon transferred the call without a pause.
“Emily?”
“Oh, thank God, I didn’t know who else to turn to. I know you’re busy—”
“What happened?” Olivia stood up. The tone of Emily’s voice made the notion of sitting down impossible.
“They want Henry. I’ve just been served with legal papers. They want custody of Henry!”
“Who?” Olivia asked in a confused state of shock.
“His grandparents,” Emily explained.
“That’s preposterous.” Olivia started to pace, only to find the cord tethering her back to the desk. Anger bubbled up inside her at hearing Emily so distraught.
“They’re taking me to court. What am I going to do? I can’t afford a lawyer. And Henry’s living conditions are less than ideal. I mean, he’s sharing a bed with his mother. In a house where I have no legal contract to stay—”
Olivia quickly analysed the situation. She couldn’t stand to hear Emily’s distress. Something needed to be done immediately. Emily was hurting, and Olivia had to fix it. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—stand idly by. She beckoned to Simon through the glass partition wall and he hurriedly entered her office.
“Emily, I promise they will not take Henry. There may not be much I can fix right now, but this I can. Simon is going to come and get you, and then we are all going to see a friend of mine. She’s one of the best family lawyers in the city, and together we will find a way through this, okay?”
Emily sniffed through obvious tears and Olivia clenched her fist in anguish. She wanted to be there to offer her support. Being on the other end of the phone was maddening.
“I’m sorry. I know you have so much going on right now.”
“Nonsense. This is far more pressing. And, unlike the mess I’m in, I can do something about this. Simon will be there within the hour.” She nodded at Simon as he grabbed his coat off the rack and headed out of the office.
* * *
As soon as Simon’s car came to a stop, Emily appeared. She closed the front door behind her, her coat half on, her bag in her hand. Under her arm were a number of documents.
He quickly got out of the car and approached her, taking the bag and papers to give Emily time to put her coat on properly.
“Thank you so much.” Her face was red and tear-stained.
“No problem.” He gestured towards the car.
Emily got in the passenger’s side, while Simon put the paperwork and her bag in the back seat before climbing in again. She started to struggle with the seat belt, so Simon calmly reached out, took it from her, and fixed it in place.
“I’m so sorry. I’m a complete mess,” she apologised.
“Don’t worry.” Simon placed a comforting hand on her knee. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but we’re here for you. Olivia will sort this out.”
Emily took a couple of deep breaths and nodded. “Thank you, Simon.”
He smiled, started the car, and pulled into the road. “So, was it completely out of the blue?”
“Yes, well, sort of. There was the incident about a week ago, but I didn’t think they’d respond like this.”
“What happened?”
“Didn’t Olivia tell you?”
“No. She’s not exactly forthright with these things. Or any things, really.”
Emily nodded. “That’s true. Well, they were due to ta
ke Henry for the night, and, well, Henry didn’t want to go. He had a huge tantrum. He’s been talking through Tiny a lot lately, and Seb, his grandfather, threatened to take Tiny away—”
“Prick,” Simon mumbled.
“Exactly,” Emily agreed. “Needless to say, Henry didn’t take kindly to the idea and it just made matters worse. Olivia stood up to him, threatened him with her crutch, and made him leave.”
Simon looked at her in shock for a moment before returning his attention to the road. Olivia certainly never mentioned that to him. Of course, he knew why. He’d have given her the look. The one that told her in no uncertain terms that he knew what was going on in her mind, that he could see how deeply she cared for both Henry and Emily, even though she tried to pretend she was unaffected.
Olivia may have been under stress lately, but threatening behaviour was never something Simon would have expected from her. She’d always been calm and measured, never so much as raising her voice, never mind her hand—or in this case, crutch.
Emily’s tone suggested that she wasn’t entirely unhappy with the developments either. He didn’t want to push her considering her current fragile emotional state, but it sounded as if both of them were hopefully, finally realising that they could be good together.
“And then you got the notice?” he clarified.
“Yep.”
“Sounds as if they’ve been waiting for the right moment,” Simon pointed out.
“They had me over a barrel either way. If I didn’t cooperate at first, they would’ve done it all the sooner. This must’ve been their plan all along.”
“But they’ve never been a part of Henry’s life, have they?”
“No. But the court won’t see it like that. They’ll see my situation and that will be it. Olivia said she knows a family lawyer?” Emily asked anxiously.
“Yes, Christine Doherty. She’s fantastic.”
“Fantastically expensive?”
“She’ll see you for free as a favour to Olivia to examine your case,” Simon explained. “Don’t worry. Olivia won’t let anything happen to Henry.”
