The Emerald Ring

by Dara Girard

  James held up his hand. “Now you know.”

  His aunt sniffed. “There’s no reason for you to visit the Design Studio. Everyone knows Cory’s meant to take it over one day.”

  “That’s not a given,” James said in a careless tone.

  Angela bristled. It was no secret that James was the Winfield golden boy: Brilliant and well liked by his uncles and adored by his grandmother, the powerful Winfield matriarch. Even though he was still young he had a determination and maturity that her son, Cory, lacked. If James set out to do so, he could take over everything and leave Cory and his two younger siblings dependent on him just as they were all dependent on Martha Winfield’s good graces.

  Angela knew it was only luck that kept her family safe. If the Winfields hadn’t worried about James’s health they would have put him in a position of power years ago. Fortunately, due to major health scares that began in his youth, Joanna kept a close eye on James, desperate not to lose him. “You have no real interest in the company.”

  James took a biscuit. “I have an interest in everything.” He lifted the plate towards her, invitingly. “Take one.”

  Angela hesitated then found herself taking one in spite of herself. Then two then three.

  “You’re making your mother nervous. Is this your little way of rebelling?”

  He flashed a grin. It wasn’t quite cold, but it wasn’t warm either. “I didn’t realize I had to rebel to be a part of my family’s business.”

  Angela lifted her tea. She didn’t know where he’d gotten his voice from—like a man who’d lived for centuries and was wiser than all of them—but it always made her feel uneasy. Especially when she tried to outwit him. It was something she’d never managed to do and with one offhanded comment he’d effectively put her in her place. He may not have Cory’s health, but he had a stronger will. But he was a considerate nephew and she knew it was unfair to distrust him.

  “This summer was to be a holiday,” Joanna said. “Eight weeks of rest before your next operation.”

  James leaned back in his chair. “I’ve cancelled it.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to discuss that right now—”

  “You will. You can’t think that because you’re feeling better you can just neglect what the doctors have told you.”

  “I realized that I don’t need it. I’m ready to live now. Most of my life has been tests, doctor visits, needles and surgeries.” He sent her a look. “I’m not going back to that.” He stood. “Now you can return to talking about me, but please keep your voices down.” He left.

  Joanna looked at Angela. “Did you see that? Did you see how he spoke to me?”

  “It’s a phase,” Angela said, not too concerned about her nephew’s behavior. The biscuits had been delicious and seemed to have put her in a better mood than before. “He’s been good all his life, it’s to be expected.”

  Joanna shook her head. “It’s just not like him to keep secrets from me.”

  “I’m sure he keeps lots of secrets.” She smiled at her sister’s surprised expression. “He is a man after all.”

  “He’s not an ordinary one.”

  “Any woman will find that out soon enough.”

  Chapter 14

  A gerbil.

  She hadn’t given up a carefree summer to settle in a cheap London flat to become a gerbil, but that’s exactly how she felt. Serves you right, she could imagine her second cousin Ginny saying. She was still miffed that Michelle had chosen not to stay with her family. She worked at a local greengrocer and her husband was a lorry driver. Michelle liked them both because they were warm, friendly people, but their flat was damp and overcrowded with relatives plus their three kids. They didn’t have the space for her really, but were too proud to admit it. On the other hand, her mother’s cousin had also offered her a place to stay, but more out of duty than true interest. He was a refined man who sniffed with the condescending air of a person who found anyone in his vicinity lacking proper hygiene.

  Her present accommodations suited her. She had a flat mate who was never there and it wasn’t too far from the office. Michelle made a paper clip chain at her desk while a light pattering of rain hit the office window. Unfortunately, her internship at the Winfield Design Studio was a cliché in the worse way—data entry, running errands, paper work and little else. Although she hadn’t expected much excitement being assigned to the Human Resources Division, she’d been able to get one of the other fifteen other employees (all women) to let her research local clients and candidates, analyze CV’s and had been able to finagle one phone interview.

  She’d quickly learned to evaluate candidates’ skills and backgrounds even coming up with different questions to highlight possible skill sets missed through traditional evaluation. She had twice mentioned ideas (which might have saved them time and money) to her supervisor (the only man); seven times pointed out possible problems (which definitely would have saved them money), but her suggestions were ignored or summarily kept as the supervisor’s keen idea to announce to the company president. But that didn’t bother her because she didn’t need the credit she knew she was bright, she just wanted more to do. More responsibility. She could get seven hours worth of work done in three and found herself bored the rest of the day. She hated boredom.

  At least she knew that she still liked business. She liked the many different levels of it. She liked helping people with creative vision reach the market place, so she would continue pursuing her degree in business management with delight and eagerness. She had helped her father make extra money with his knowledge of stones, getting people to pay him for speeches and private sessions. She had an analytical mind and saw processes and opportunities others might miss. She didn’t need the limelight, helping others gave her the greatest thrill.

  But she was still bored. She had six more weeks before her summer internship ended and it seemed like eternity. Others would see her as lucky. An internship abroad would give her a world view, although, granted, she’d cheated a bit since she had family here. However, she had been forced out of her comfort zone by having to learn the tube system when she’d been used to the suburbs and driving everywhere, and seeing how the West Indian-British owned Winfield Design Studios handled business was an education in and of itself. The Winfields had been in business since the 1960s with offices and business interests here, in the US and other parts of the globe.

  Perhaps she should have stayed stateside, but the weekend excursions proved worth the weekday boredom. She took her meager earnings and found as many low cost ventures she could find, which is how she managed the castle tour and had also visited Buckingham Palace and Regent Park. Next weekend she hoped to visit another landmark She didn’t want to attend another castle or she’d think about James. The man she thought she’d made a connection with, but who had given her a bogus number. It had all seemed too good to be true anyway.

  Michelle lifted her head when her supervisor left his office. Everyone else did the same. Cory Winfield was as good looking as he was lazy. And he was very good looking with hazel nut skin and short dark hair and a trim beard. He never remembered her name, or what she was there for or what he was there for at most times. But that didn’t bother him or anyone else because he was the son of the president so most people didn’t expect much from him and he expected even less from himself. However, he’d taken a particular shine to her because of her ideas and she’d managed to grab his attention by accident. Although she was told never to talk to him unless he talked to her first, when she’d spotted him in the hall with an important new client—Cory looking at him with a blank expression—she’d quietly fed him the client’s name effectively gaining his appreciation.

  “You make me look good,” he’d told her one day when he’d caught her near the copy machine. He checked his perfect reflection in the side window. “I like that. The others don’t do that.” He turned to her and winked. “I’ll have a position waiting for you when you’ve finishe
d university.”

  Michelle couldn’t imagine wanting any position he could offer her. He was only one year older so it was difficult to take him seriously.

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, say you’ll accept.”

  She only smiled. He nodded. “Okay, I won’t push you, but give it a thought, yeah?”

  She nodded then left.

  “Whadide satoou?” her colleague Tansy Finley said when Michelle returned to her desk. Tansy had been one of her early champions, doing her best to make Michelle feel at home. She had pale skin, hair as black as an oil slick and deep red lipstick.

  “I’m sorry?” Michelle said feeling guilty. It was her frequent response to Tansy because she didn’t always catch the words in Tansy’s Scottish brogue.

  Fortunately, she was patient. “I said, what did he say to you?” When Michelle told her what Cory had said, she’d sighed. “You are so lucky.”

  Unfortunately, she didn’t feel lucky. She felt restless. What she was doing was all so easy. Even seeing Cory leave with his latest leading lady—she’d already seen him with two others in three weeks—wasn’t interesting, although he was always the talk of the office. Who was he seeing now? Where was he going? Everything came easy to him and that was fine. But she wanted a challenge.

  Michelle sat at her desk, having completed another coffee run for the day—the kitchen had a coffeemaker but most people avoided it as they would a sewage pit—wondering what activity she could make up as she watched Cory talk to one of her colleagues—a no nonsense, middle aged woman with thin framed glasses who looked like she could bench-press a Mini Cooper. Cory tended to avoid this woman, so the fact that he hadn’t, caught Michelle’s attention. It was while watching them that Michelle sensed a certain change in the air. The carefree nature disappeared; the atmosphere became tense. She looked at Tansy as she rushed past towards the conference room. “What’s going on?”

  “His cousin is here.”

  Michelle didn’t know why that was important. No one had mentioned Cory’s cousin before, but as she saw people clearing their desks—gathering up sweet wrappers, quickly replacing stuffed toys with framed photos of smiling babies, dressed up pets or holiday pictures, and watering neglected plants, Michelle looked at her own desk. There was not much to clean since her desk was devoid of any personal objects making it clear to everyone that her position was temporary. She only used the top surface anyway because the previous owner had, for some unknown reason, stuffed one of the drawers with Tampax boxes and the other with sugar biscuits and hand wipes. Michelle was not curious to know why.

  Instead of tidying, she put her paper clip chain away and sat straighter. She glanced at Cory who looked oddly put out—like a grounded child. She’d never seen him frown before, except when a specific watch order had been delayed by a day. He’d sulked for hours. He caught her eye and walked over to her desk, his hands shoved in the pockets of his light khaki trousers.

  “I need you to work your magic,” he said in the low voice as if they were coconspirators.

  Michelle shook her head, not understanding him. “Magic?”

  “Make me look the best and you’ll never have to look for employment again. That other girl is setting up the conference room for you.”

  “For me?”

  He nodded. “You’re going to tell them about that new software I implemented and the two new hires.” He turned before she could respond. It annoyed her that he assumed that she worried about employment or that she even thought of him as an option. But she gathered her things and headed to the conference room where Tansy had set everything up. She shivered. The room was freezing, as always. It was rumored it had been set at that temperature to keep people awake. Michelle glanced at the filled water glasses surprised they hadn’t turned to ice. She lined up one of the chairs around the table to keep her hands from going numb.

  “I don’t understand why this is such a big deal,” Michelle said to Tansy. “Isn’t he the son of the owner?”

  “Yes,” Tansy said, making sure the audio/visual was working, “but it’s complicated. Don’t be nervous.”

  How could she be nervous when she didn’t know what was going on? At least she wasn’t bored. She looked forward to the unexpected presentation. She’d wanted responsibility and now it was hers.

  They waited by the wall, intermittently rubbing their hands to keep warm, when the main entrance to the conference room opened. An attractive older woman entered, wearing a gorgeous purple suit and black heels. A woman who looked familiar.

  “I know her,” Michelle said, watching the woman take a seat of prominence at the head of the table.

  “Really?” Tansy said amazed. “That’s Ms. Winfield. Oh…I didn’t think he’d really come.”

  Although the older woman intrigued her, it was the man who followed that stopped Michelle’s heart and let her know that this day would be like no other. It was James, the man from the castle, but there was no weakness about him. He had a masterful strength; he made Cory look like a child. She didn’t mean to stare, but the transformation was remarkable. He scanned the crowd with a cursory acknowledgement, brushing past her before he stopped and looked again. A double take.

  Just like before.

  Except more powerful. She swallowed. His eyes met and held hers for seconds that felt like years then looked away. The moment was brief. No one else had noticed. But the room no longer felt cold. He remembered her. Would he say anything? Did it matter? She had to focus on the presentation. Make me look good, she could silently hear Cory beseech her. Cory walked over to her and whispered, “I know the room is bloody freezing, but try not to look like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “You’re frozen.”

  She took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid. Focus on my aunt and ignore my cousin. He always looks fierce but he won’t bite.” He walked to the center of the room, flashed a charming grin and said, “Mindy is going to let you know what we’ve been doing.”

  Mindy? Really? He couldn’t even try to get her name right?

  “Why?” Ms. Winfield said.

  Cory faltered, searching for an answer. “Why?”

  “Yes, why is…” She made a motion with her hand and addressed Michelle without looking at her. “What’s your name again?”

  Michelle sent a glance at Tansy then Cory wondering how to respond. She couldn’t let them know he’d made a mistake. “It’s Michelle, but people call me Mindy for short,” she said in a low voice.

  Ms. Winfield nodded, her gaze fixed on her nephew. “Why is she presenting to us?”

  “Because…” Cory tugged on his collar, sending the woman a desperate look.

  “It’s his generosity,” Michelle said. “I need a certain amount of hours to do presentations.”

  Ms. Winfield finally shifted her gaze to her then paused, studying her for a long moment. “Have we met before?”

  “Perhaps you passed her in the hall,” Cory said. “She’s been here several weeks.” He nodded towards Michelle as a signal to begin.

  Somehow, despite her racing thoughts, Ms. Winfield’s eyes and James’s powerful presence, Michelle managed to make it through the presentation as well as the pointed questions Ms. Winfield asked her. James remained silent. When the presentation was through, Ms. Winfield exited but James stood by the door, holding it open for everyone, making everyone shrink a little as they passed him.

  Michelle refused to do so. She lifted her chin and headed out the door with her back ramrod straight. As she walked passed him he whispered low enough for only her to hear, “Do you believe in fate now?”

  Chapter 15

  Michelle fell into the chair behind her desk, her skin tingling. Coming from the freezing cold conference room the rest of the office felt like a sauna.

  Cory came over to her, grinning. “Brilliant. I knew you would be.”

  “I’m not sure I impressed them.”

  “Wou
ld I be standing here grinning like this if you hadn’t? Don’t worry and relax. It’s not like you to look scared. Although, admittedly, my relatives can be fierce.”

  She nodded again, unable to speak. She wasn’t afraid. How could anyone be afraid of James? He was awe-inspiring—like a vast moonless night, sunlight on the surface of an ocean. And he was vulnerable. She’d never forget the feeling of weakness she’d sensed when she’d touched his arm, his heavy breathing when he’d run after her, his inability to speak at first. But even though his body may betray him, his eyes were too knowing, too wise.

  She never thought she’d see him again and she couldn’t believe how happy she felt. It was stupid. Their lives were so different. When he’d asked for her number it had been a moment of weakness. And a trick. The number he had given her hadn’t been real. Now he’d know she was a nobody, a little intern in one of his family’s companies. It was the extreme temperature change that kept her heart racing. Perhaps she needed something to eat. She absently opened her desk drawer to grab a biscuit then realized she’d opened the tampon drawer instead. She shrugged. If she was going to take a biscuit, she could take a box home as well. She opened the drawer and lifted up a small carton to slip it into her bag. It would save her money and no one would notice.

  “Ms. Clifton?”

  Her head shot up. She dropped the box back in the drawer and shut it, her face burning. Did he see it? Please don’t let him have seen it. “Yes, Mr. Winfield?” she said, hoping her voice sounded appropriately professional. Was he going to compliment her presentation? Ask her questions about the software?

  “Are you free tonight?”

  Michelle stared up at him certain she’d misheard him due to the sound of her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m sorry?”

  “Are you free tonight?”

  “To work after hours?”

  He sighed. “Why are you making this difficult? I’m asking you out.”

  Michelle surged to her feet, her heart racing. She looked around, knowing that the others were pretending not to listen, before she said in a low, frantic voice, “What are you doing?”