Professor Green, Mr. Proz—Little secrets
Adele—When We Were Young
I place my coffee cup in the sink after rinsing it out, turning and leaning against the counter as I watch Clay and Izzie where they sit at the table, eating their breakfast.
My cell buzzing in my pocket grabs my attention and I pull it out to see a message from Nate.
NATE: Lunch date? ;)
I shake my head, ignoring the message and placing my cell down onto the counter. I haven’t seen Nate since he left my place after the cookout—a cookout that was set up by him and my mother so that they could meddle in my life. Not only do I feel betrayed by that, but the fact that he knew Harmony was in town and decided to omit telling me has him firmly at the top of my shit list.
NATE: I know you’ve seen my message.
NATE: I’ll message you once a minute until you answer.
I flick my eyes down to my cell, listening as Clay tells Izzie about the book that he’s reading.
NATE: Did you know that Oklahoma declared watermelon a vegetable and that they’ve made it their official state vegetable?
I grit my teeth, turning my cell on silent as my gaze catches the box that sits by the back door. Another package; one of five that have been delivered in the last week for Amelia.
Nate was right about one thing: I am blind to what is going on around me, and this last week my eyes have been wide open to what is happening in my house.
NATE: Did you know that having no friends could be as deadly as smoking? That’s what Harvard University said. Apparently there's a link between loneliness and the levels of a blood-clotting protein which can cause heart attacks and strokes.
I shake my head at his message, determined not to answer him until my eyes land on that goddamn package again. I can’t help but think maybe there is something going on with Amelia, and if there is, I want to know what.
She must know that I’m thinking about her because as I’m about to pick up my cell and tell the kids that they need to go and get their backpacks, she walks into the kitchen. Only she doesn’t come in the back door like she normally would, she comes in from the main house.
I frown when I see her worried face. “Amelia?” I ask, catching her attention.
She startles, her eyes wide and her face pale as she looks around, first at me, then at the kids before her gaze lands on the package waiting for her.
She shuffles her feet on the floor. “He—ey,” she stammers.
I lift up off the counter that I’m leaning against and step toward her, my instincts on high alert. “Are you okay?”
My eyes flit between both of hers and I can see that she’s frightened. Something has happened and seeing that look in her chocolate brown eyes makes me even more determined to find out what has her so on edge.
“Yeah,” she says louder than necessary, cringing at the sound of her own voice before turning to Clay and Izzie. “You two have a good day at school. When you get back we’ll make cookies.” She smiles at them but I can see that it’s forced.
“With chocolate chips?” Izzie asks, bouncing up and down in her seat.
“You bet!” Amelia winks and then walks through the kitchen, grabbing the package and practically running out of the door, leaving me with a million questions.
I let it go at the cookout when I knew something was going on after I handed her that package. I knew it wasn’t something she’d ordered for herself by the look on her face, but what was it? I let her have her space, knowing that she knew if she wanted to talk, that I’m here. But by the looks of things, she doesn’t intend to come and talk to me so I’ll have to push her for more information.
The kitchen door closes softly and brings me out of my own head before I step toward it. “Hurry up and finish,” I tell the kids. “Edward will be here in ten.”
“Okay, Dad,” they both answer in unison.
I pull the door open and my gaze zones in on Amelia as she shuts the door to the pool house. I don’t take a second to think about it before I’m jogging over the grass and swinging the door open.
“Amelia.” I use my no-nonsense tone, the same one I use when Clay or Izzie are in trouble, the one I use when I’m in a board meeting and commanding all of their attention.
“Tristan,” she whispers, holding that damn box so tight like it’s her lifeline.
“What’s going on?” I ask, taking a step further into the room and letting the door bang shut behind me. “You know you can tell me anything.”
Her gaze flits around the room, not meeting mine as she bites her bottom lip and takes a step back. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Bullshit,” I spit as I take another two steps toward her, my shoes sinking into the plush, beige carpet that runs through the whole place as I lay my hands on the box. “What’s in here?”
She gasps and grips it tighter as I pull on it, but she doesn’t let it go. “Stop. It’s... nothing.”
I raise my brows and bend at my knees, coming eye to eye with her. I tell her everything I can with my eyes: that she can trust me, that she can tell me anything.
“I—” She looks out of the windows that make up most of the pool house front, gazing out at the backyard and the main house. “Honestly, Tris. It really is nothing. I… I didn’t get much sleep so I’m feeling out of it.”
I carry on watching her, knowing deep down that she’s lying. “A,” I plead.
“Daddy! Eddie is here!” I whip my head around to the door of the pool house, looking out of the glass door and seeing Izzie standing at the kitchen door, watching us.
Amelia takes that as her cue to pull on the box, causing my hands to drop from it as she scuttles off into her own kitchen.
I swipe my hands down my face, frustrated at not having the time to see what’s going on. Not that it looks like she would have told me anyway.
I can’t help but worry about her. The last few years she’s become a part of the family; you can’t spend the amount of time with people that she does—day in, day out—and not get close to them. She’s the little sister that I never had and I want to protect her.
“This isn’t over!” I shout to her as I pull the door open, but she doesn’t answer.
I close the glass door behind me and make my way back into the main house, meeting Clay and Izzie at the front door where they stand with Edward.
“Is Amelia okay?” Izzie asks.
“Yeah, pumpkin. She’s okay.” I smile; the same strained smile that Amelia gave them. “Let’s get you to school.” I pick her up, kissing her cheek as I carry her to the car with her giggles surrounding us.
As soon as we’re on our way to their school, I pull my cell out, ignoring the ten messages from Nate as I reply to him.
TRISTAN: Zanders. 12:30. Don’t be late.
If I can’t find out what is going on from the horse’s mouth, then perhaps he can.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” I tell Catiya as I walk past her desk.
“Sir?” I spin around at her voice, punching my finger on the button to the elevator. “Pete has been calling nonstop, he’s threatening that he has evidence against you.”
I blow out a frustrated breath. The guy has been causing trouble ever since he tried to stage a coup and didn’t get the result that he wanted. He should have known better than to take on a Carter. It never ends well when you do, and I know for a fact that he isn’t able to get another job; he’s done in this city.
“Call Jared and get him to block his number, and let security know that if he turns up here they’re to call the police.”
“On it,” she answers, nodding her head and picking up the handset of the phone that sits on her desk.
The pinging of the elevator doors has me spinning around, and as I step inside, my cell buzzes with another message from Nate, asking where I am. The man has no patience; he’s like an overactive puppy, constantly begging for attention.
I quickly shoot him a message saying that I’m on my way to the restaurant now and to chill the fuck out before I check my emails to pass the time as I lean against the wall of the elevator.
It feels like I’m standing here for hours and I make a note to get someone in to look at the speed of these things, they’re too slow for my liking; it would have been faster to take the stairs at this rate.
“Finally!” Nate’s voice rings out as soon as the doors open and I scowl at him. Everyone’s attention is on him: smiles and grins being thrown his way. I don’t like it, not one bit. And when those same people who were grinning at him only seconds ago see me, they soon turn their gazes away.
“Not all of us can come and go as we like, you know,” I tell him as I walk toward him. “Some of us have companies to run.”
“Oh!” He holds his hands up in the air, leaning down. “I bow down to you, Sir Tristan.”
I roll my eyes, speed walking past him and out of the doors before hooking a left and heading to Zanders, hearing him as he jogs to catch up with me.
“What happened to your face, anyway?” Nate asks.
My hand wanders up to the purple bruise under my left eye, wincing as I touch it. “Nothing you need to worry about,” I say, turning toward him. “I thought we were meeting at the restaurant?”
I narrow my eyes as he shrugs his shoulders. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to stand me up.”
I shake my head as we continue walking. Zanders is a five-minute drive from here, but I don’t want to be sitting in the car while I talk to him, plus it’s quicker to walk with the lunchtime traffic. I want to ask him if he knows what’s going on with Amelia, and as much as I trust Edward, I don’t want him to hear this. Whatever is going on, she’s keeping it close to her chest for a reason.
“So…” I start, pushing my hands into my pockets. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
I turn my gaze to his, taking note of his questioning green eyes. He can see that what I want to ask him is important as soon as his eyes meet mine because his whole demeanor changes; gone is the fun-loving Nate and in its place is the ruthless lawyer.
“It’s about Amelia.” I let that sink in as we weave our way between all of the people scuttling along the sidewalk. “Something’s going on with her.”
“Right,” he says, his voice gruff.
“Do you know what it is?”
He raises a brow. “How would I know? I barely talk to her.”
I chuckle. “You must think I’m blind,” I say. “I see how you always talk when you’re together.” He shakes his head, giving nothing away. “I…” I run my hands down my face again and look down at the sidewalk that is littered with lumps of gum and God knows what else. This isn’t about them, it’s about Amelia. “Every time something comes to the house for her, she acts… I don’t know… weird.”
“Weird how?” he asks.
“You saw her at the cookout, she was fine until that package turned up.” I think about it for a second before saying, “Her face pales, and… I don’t know… there’s something in her eyes, something that tells me that there’s something going on. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m worried about her.”
I lift my gaze back to his, watching the green of his eyes swirl. “So, ask her.” He shrugs.
“I have.” I curse as we come to a stop outside of Zanders. “She won’t tell me.”
His gaze flits from mine to the restaurant and then back again as he says, “I can do some digging, see what I can find out.”
I nod in reply, grunting before opening the door and following Nate over to a table. I look up and halt in my tracks, coming face to face with the last person I expected to see here.
“Harmony?” I stare at her in confusion for several seconds. “What are you doing here?”
She opens her mouth and closes it again, the breath leaving her body as her gaze skirts to Nate, her eyes narrowing.
I was supposed to come into the city, grab my art supplies, and go home. That was the plan anyway until I got a message from Nate asking me to have lunch with him. I was wary at first, not knowing if I could sit there without him bringing the past up, but I decided to suck it up because I need to talk to someone other than my mom. I love her, but I need some friends.
I arrive outside of Zanders and blow out a breath, looking down at my paint-splattered denim overalls. I don’t think I’m dressed to have lunch in here; it’s too high-end.
Sighing, I open the door anyway and smile at the maître d'. “Hi, I’m… I’m supposed to be meeting a friend here.”
Her gaze wanders over my attire, her smile faltering before she pastes it back on her face. “Name?”
“Har—” I chuckle, realizing that she doesn’t mean my name. “Oh, Nathan Cole.”
She looks down at the book in front of her before she nods and motions for me to follow her around the fancy, glass tables. “The waitress will be with you in a moment to take your drink order.”
“Thank you.”
She walks away and a couple of minutes later, a blond-haired waitress walks over to me. “Welcome to Zanders, can I get you a drink while you wait for your guests?”
I smile at her. “Sure, a…” I scan the drinks menu, my eyes widening at the extortionate price for a glass of wine. “I’ll have a tap water, thank you.”
Her brow furrows. “We only serve sparkling or still by the bottle.”
I inwardly sigh but keep a smile pasted on my face. “Perfect. Still, please.”
She nods. “Of course, I’ll go and get that for you, ma’am.”
I cringe at how old that makes me feel before taking a moment to look around the room at the people in suits and fancy clothes; I definitely don’t fit in here.
When Nate still isn’t here ten minutes later, I pull out my cellphone from my purse, about to send him a message when I hear my name being said by a voice that has shivers fluttering up my spine.
My head snaps up, my gaze colliding with Tristan’s and then Nate’s beside him who is looking extremely guilty. My gaze bats back to Tristan and I frown when I notice he’s sporting a black eye.
He looks between me and Nate before he settles his gaze on me. “What are you doing here?”
“I, erm…” I focus my gaze on Nate, a question in my expression as I raise a brow. “Would you like to answer that one? Or shall I?”
Tristan’s eyes narrow before his head snaps toward Nate, gritting out, “You called her?”
He shrugs, acting indifferent and like this is a normal everyday thing for us all to be in a room together. “Messaged her on Facebook actually.” He looks at me. “Hey, Harm.”
“Hi?” It comes out as a question as I look between them both, my muscles tense as I realize we’re garnering the attention of everyone in the restaurant. “I think you need to sit down before we get thrown out.”
My joke is met with a blank stare from Tristan but he slowly sits as Nate walks over and pulls out a chair before he puts up a finger, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cellphone.
“Cole,” he says in an unnecessarily loud voice, even though I didn’t hear it ring at all.
Tristan’s body is practically vibrating with anger but I can’t tell who it’s aimed toward: me or Nate.
“You’re sure? Now? Fine.” Nate pockets his cellphone and looks between us both. “Sorry, Tris, Harm, duty calls. Another time?”
“You—”
Nate’s eyes widen, a mischievous smirk pulling at his lips as he interrupts Tristan. “Hey, considering you’re both here, you should stay and have lunch instead.” He winks as he starts to walk away. “Catch you later.”
I look down at Tristan’s hands that are clenched into fists and swallow before I stammer, “I… I should go.”
I lift out of my chair but stop when his gruff voice grinds out, “Stay.”
Closing my eyes, I lower back down before crossing my arms over my chest and opening them back up, my gaze clashing with his. “Why?”
He looks around the room, his brows pulled down into a frown as his gaze pings off several things before he finally looks back at me. “I… We’re both here anyway so we may as well eat. The food here’s good and I’m starving.”
He signals to the waitress to gain her attention and I snort. “Yeah, being a douche must work up quite the appetite, but I’m not hungry so if you don’t mind.” I lift out of my chair again, picking my purse up off the floor.
“I took a hit for you, the least you could do is have lunch with me,” he snaps.
My head swivels toward him, my gaze flitting over the purple bruise under his eye before sitting back down and leaning across the table. “Don’t try and guilt trip me, I didn’t hit you.”
He watches me intently, his eyes narrowing and his nostrils flaring. “No, but your ex-husband did.” He raises a brow. “Nice choice in men, by the way.”
Tilting my head, I stare at the bruise, surprised that Gerry hit him. I knew he was angry, but I’d never seen him be violent before. “I…” I pull my shoulders back, determined not to let him affect me. “It was nothing you didn’t deserve, I’m sure.”
The waitress walks over to us with a glass bottle of something in her hand and places it on the table, unscrewing the top and turning two glasses over. She pours the clear liquid into them, much like they would do with a bottle of wine—only this is the water that I ordered earlier.
I cringe as I watch her pouring my money out into the glasses before looking up at her.
“Are you ready to order?” she asks, standing back and pulling a small notepad out.
“Yes, I’ll have the steak, medium,” Tristan says, motioning for me to order next.
I shake my head at her. “Nothing for me, thank you. I’m not staying.”
Tristan rolls his eyes, looking back down at the menu and scanning it before closing it. “She’ll have the same as me,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument as he hands the menu back to the waitress.
She looks between us both before nodding and walking off toward where I presume the kitchen is.
“I said I wasn’t hungry.”
He leans forward, steepling his hands together. “Nothing I didn’t deserve?” he asks in reply to my earlier statement, ignoring me.
I clear my throat, picking up my glass of water and taking a sip to wet my parched throat. “Yep.”
“Hmm.” He leans back in his chair, his gaze not leaving mine or faulting, even when I narrow my eyes at him. Running his finger along his bottom lip, he raises a brow before stating, “You never answered my question on Friday night.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I say, rolling my eyes. “But please enlighten me, what question?”
His eyes penetrate mine as I bring my gaze up to his. “Why are you back here?”
I huff. “You seem to have been acquainted with the reason,” I say, pointing at his eye.
His demeanor changes, his body stiffening as he sits up straighter. “He hit you?”
My eyes widen; he’s taken what I said way out of context. “No, not like that. We… we grew apart, that’s all I’m saying.”
I twist my hands uncomfortably, pulling my gaze away from his, it’s getting far too intense. I shouldn’t be here, I should get up and walk out but something is keeping me rooted in my seat.
I take another sip of water; the atmosphere has turned awkward and I’m hyperaware of every movement I make. I’m starting to feel a little uncomfortable sitting across from the man that once broke my heart and I realize I’ve gone inside my own head; not a good place to be.
I sit up and clear my throat when he doesn’t say anything so I try to change the conversation. “How’re the kids?”
I see his eyes fill with understanding when I look back up at him. He knows what I’m doing, and yet he goes along with it before narrowing his eyes. “The kids?” I nod. “They’re good.”
“Good,” I reply.
He opens his mouth as he starts to say something but halts when the waitress walks over and places a plate in front of each of us.
“Thank you,” I say, smiling at her before picking up my knife and fork and cutting up a piece of steak then putting it in my mouth, moaning as the meat practically melts on my tongue.
He looks down at his plate as he picks up his own steak on his fork, his eyes closing as a smirk lifts the corner of his lips. “Aren’t you glad you stayed now?”
I raise a brow at him but don’t answer; it’s the most beautiful steak I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating, but I won’t tell him that.
We eat in silence, the thought that this couldn’t be any more awkward running through my head the whole time. I shouldn’t have stayed; I should have left and not even entertained staying in the same room, never mind sitting a couple of feet away from him.
The sound of his cellphone ringing gains my attention but he simply ignores it, pressing a button before popping another piece of steak in his mouth.
“You can answer that if you want,” I say, shrugging.
He lifts his gaze to mine. “No, it’s only a reminder for a meeting I have in half an hour.”
“Ahh,” I say, realizing that I have no idea what he does for work. “Where is it you work?” I ask, trying to sound indifferent.
He places his knife and fork down before steepling his fingers together. “I took over my dad’s company.”
I try not to show the shock I feel as I look at him but his mind seems to be elsewhere as he stares out of the windows that line the front of the restaurant. “Wow, I thought that was his baby.”
He laughs, but it’s more sinister sounding than anything. “Yeah... it was.” He turns to face me, his gray eyes connecting with mine. “He was embezzling money.” He raises a brow. “You’re looking at the CEO of Carter Enterprises.”
I place my knife and fork down, studying his reaction. He didn’t say it like he was bragging or showing off, it was a simple statement. “Why do I get the impression that you’re not happy about that? I thought that was what you wanted?”
“Don’t you mean what my parents wanted? I was pushed into it, having no choice in the matter.” He shrugs. “I’ve put my own stamp on things and now that my father is out of prison, I’ll be making sure he sees that I’m better at running the company than he ever was.”
My eyes widen at his flippant words. “Your dad was in prison?”
“Yeah.” He waves over a waitress, saying, “Can we get the bill please,” before turning back to face me. “He was embezzling, remember… hence prison.” He raises a brow like I should know this, but how am I meant to know? I don’t know anything about CEOs, companies, or what the company is really about apart from the fact that it deals in technology.
“Right.” I clear my throat, picking up my purse, about to pay my half when he places the slip of paper in his pocket and stands up. “I need to pay half—”
He scoffs. “No you don’t, I’ve got this.”
“Tristan,” I warn, my muscles tensing. He was always like this; trying to pay for everything. This meal may have cost the same as my monthly rent for the studio—okay so that may be an over exaggeration, but I still won’t let him pay for me.
“It goes on my tab.” He shrugs, motioning his hand toward the front doors before I shake my head and blow out a frustrated breath.
“I’ll be paying you back,” I throw over my shoulder as we walk out of the restaurant.
When I turn back toward him, he has that insufferable smirk on his face that makes me want to add another bruise to his collection. “Which way are you going?” he asks, looking down at his watch briefly. I hook my thumb over my shoulder, pointing in the direction that my car is parked before he steps forward. “I guess I’ll see you on Saturday?” His voice is low and I can’t stop my body's reaction to it as goose bumps spread over my skin.
“You will.” I grit my teeth, determined not to give anything away before he lifts his hand but drops it, shaking his head.
“This was fun.” His voice doesn’t sound like he enjoyed it at all but the twinkle in his eye tells me that however much he doesn’t want to admit it, he enjoyed spending time with me.
I roll my eyes, backing away a step before lifting my hand in an awkward wave and spinning around.
I take three steps before I stop and swirl back around, catching him watching me. “You never answered my question either.” His brow lifts in question. “On Friday, I asked why you were there and you didn’t answer.”
The corners of his lips lift before he says, “Maybe I’ll tell you on Saturday,” before turning and walking in the opposite direction.
I don’t know how to feel anymore as I walk toward my car, so many different emotions are invading my mind that I feel like I’m neither coming nor going. I’m more confused than anything, but I can’t deny the pull toward him that I still feel.