Chapter 5

Andrew

It was Monday morning, and I found myself standing outside, staring down my driveway. Sophie Newman was due to arrive at nine o’clock. If she was as much as one minute late, I had my phone ready to dial the police. Part of me hoped she wouldn’t show up. Then I would have an excuse to get Rick arrested and see him punished for his attempted theft.

“Here you are, Mr. Andrew,” Liam said from behind me.

I turned as he stepped up beside me and handed me a full mug of steaming hot coffee. I nodded my thanks and took a small sip. It burned my tongue and my throat, but I didn’t care. My eyes were still trained on the driveway, just waiting for an unfamiliar car to pull up.

After a few more sips of coffee, I shook back my long-sleeved shirt and checked my watch. It was two minutes to nine, and still, there was no sign of Sophie. I glared at the driveway again, gulping down my coffee for something to do. With every second that ticked by, my anger became stronger.

“I’m sure she’ll be here,” Liam said with confidence. “She’s not late yet.”

“She might as well be,” I snapped. “I said nine o’clock. It’s one minute ‘til.”

“Then she has one minute to arrive,” Liam said simply. “Besides, if she’s a few minutes late, is that really the end of the world?”

I didn’t answer. Liam had already made his feelings on the matter perfectly clear. He thought my actions were crazy, ridiculous, and immature. He spent the better part of Sunday berating me to change my mind, insisting I call Rick and apologize for my abhorrent behavior. It never occurred to him that I was the one who was due an apology.

My free hand itched toward my pocket. I could feel my cellphone pressed against my leg, begging me to pull it out. The police station was already programmed onto the dial screen. All I had to do was press send.

“It’s nine o’clock,” I said out loud, staring down at my watch. “She’s not here, Liam.”

“Give her another minute or two,” Liam said calmly. “It can’t hurt.”

“No,” I snapped. “She and that thief father of hers had their chance.”

I shoved my hand deep inside my pocket and pulled out my phone. My thumb hovered over the send button just as the unmistakable roar of an engine filled my ears. I jerked my head up to see an unfamiliar car pulling into my driveway.

The windows were tinted so I couldn’t see inside. I strained my eyes, squinting as whoever was driving came to a stop right in front of my house. I knew it was Sophie before she got out of the car, but I still held onto my phone with a vicelike grip.

“You can put that away, Mr. Andrew,” Liam said. “She’s here now.”

The driver’s side door swung open, and a woman stepped out. She was wearing dark sunglasses that covered half her face. Her long, brown hair fell over her shoulders as she bent down to retrieve her bag from inside the car. When she stood back up, she turned to face me. Her lips were pressed tightly together, forming a fiercely thin line.

As she walked toward me, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. Her hips swayed gently from side to side, drawing my eyes. She was short, like her father, but on her, it was attractive.

When she reached me, she removed her sunglasses and stuck out her hand.

“I’m Sophie,” she said simply.

I blinked. The green of her eyes was captivating, but I shook the thought away quickly. This wasn’t just a beautiful woman. This was the daughter of a thief. She was here to work for me, not seduce me.

“Glad you finally made it,” I said shortly.

“Am I late?” Sophie asked. She frowned, but I could tell she didn’t really care. Her anger toward me was evident.

“Almost,” I said. “This is Liam.”

I gestured beside me. Liam took a small step forward and took Sophie’s hand gently. He smiled at her kindly, and she softened.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sophie said.

“You as well, Miss Newman,” Liam said.

“Please, call me Sophie.”

Liam nodded and smiled again. He released Sophie’s hand and moved back to my side. Sophie’s warmth toward Liam vanished when she turned her attention back to me. However unhappy I was with her and her father, she was equally as unhappy with me.

“Where should we get started?” Sophie asked bluntly.

“We don’t,” I said. “You’ll never work directly with me. Only trusted advisors have that privilege.”

“How exactly am I supposed to help you then?” Sophie asked.

“If you need anything from me, you’ll go through Liam,” I said. “Liam will assist with whatever you need. He’ll get you settled into your room and into your role at the company.”

Sophie eyed me closely as I spoke. She was disgusted by my behavior, but I didn’t care. She was here for one reason: to work.

“So, I’ll be working for you, but I’ll never speak to you?” Sophie asked boldly. “And you think this a professional way to run a business?”

“I’m sure you’re aware what your father did,” I said. “His actions prohibit you from questioning the way in which I do anything.”

“My father was—”

“Liam,” I said loudly, interrupting her. “Please escort Sophie to her office and answer any questions she may have.”

Sophie’s eyes narrowed dangerously. She opened her mouth to argue, but I was already gone. I turned on my heel and disappeared through the front door. My study was calling to me. Liam could take care of whatever Sophie needed. Now that I knew she had arrived, I could push her existence to the back of my mind and focus on my own work.

When I reached my study door, I heard Liam and Sophie come inside. Liam’s voice was soft and muffled. I couldn’t make out his words, but I could tell he was trying to soothe Sophie. I rolled my eyes and slammed my study door behind me.

I fully intended to sit down and get right to work, but the second I pulled my chair up to my desk, my mind began to wander. I thought having Sophie here would help my focus, not hurt it. Instead, I found myself thinking about her more than my work.

I wondered if Liam settled her in already. Was he still showing her around the house? Or had they started talking about her new role in the company?

Ridding my mind of these thoughts proved impossible. My curiosity was too great. I pushed my chair back and tilted my head up, my eyes scanning the ceiling as they so often did. Whenever my brain became too full, I would stare at my study ceiling and try to relax. Centering myself usually took no time at all.

This time, it felt pointless to even try.

My anger at Rick Newman was still so pronounced that I could barely think of anything else. He was my father’s friend. Dad trusted him, and yet, he tried to steal from us so soon after my father’s death. What kind of man would do that? Just thinking about it was enough to make my cheeks flush with rage and my stomach churn.

I looked away from the ceiling and shook my head. Dwelling on thoughts of Rick Newman would only serve to distract me further.

I shook myself again and moved my chair forward. Firing up my computer, I stared intently at the screen. I was determined to be productive and at least answer a few emails.

It didn’t take long for my thoughts to distract me again. I was losing my mind sitting in the study. I needed to get up and move around. Maybe then I’d be able to get some real work done.

As I left my study, I strained my ears for a sign that Liam and Sophie were nearby. I didn’t hear anything, so I walked farther into the house. I paced around the living room for a while, straightening the curtains and throw pillows as I moved. Being on my feet helped slightly, but I still couldn’t shake the way I felt.

It wasn’t just Rick I was angry with. My head was overflowing with thoughts of my dad. Just remembering him was enough to make me dig my nails into the skin of my palms.

My eyes roamed around the living room and soon fell on a picture of my father. He was about twenty years younger in the photograph and looked almost exactly like me. His dark hair fell loosely into his eyes. I touched my own hair as I looked at the picture. I always hated how little my father cared about appearances. He let his hair fall naturally, and he wore whatever clothes were comfortable. I rebelled against him at an early age by making sure my own hair was always styled and my own clothes were well-fitted.

Even now, I still did my hair every morning. My fingers played with it for a few seconds while I continued to gaze at the photograph. My dad was grinning widely. His blue eyes were bright with excitement, and it was obvious why. He was standing in the middle of a dig site, with newly uncovered earth surrounding him.

That was where Dad was always the happiest. When he would venture out into the world to find some unknown city or some ancient artifact. He loved to travel and go on digs. Expeditions were his life, more so than anything else.

I pulled my hand away from my hair, letting my arm fall back to my side. My eyes stayed transfixed on the photograph, on my father’s smiling face. I couldn’t tell where this dig was, what country or even what continent. But it didn’t matter. Not really. Dad was always gone. Always discovering something new. Something exciting.

For that reason, Hopper Antiquities always remained a success. Dad couldn’t stop himself from jetting across the world to bring home something new and expensive. People from all over came to him to purchase priceless artifacts. Everyone knew George Hopper was the best in the business. The best in the world.

My hands tightened into fists at my sides. Just looking at his picture was enough to bring a bad taste to my mouth. There were so many things to love about my dad, so many things to admire. Everyone who knew him, loved him. His friends fawned over him. My mother adored him. Even his employees worshipped the ground he walked on. I couldn’t blame them. My father had so many great qualities, so many things that made him wonderful. And yet, in that moment, I couldn’t think of a single one.

“Mr. Andrew,” a soft voice spoke from behind me. I knew it was Liam. I didn’t bother to turn around. I couldn’t bring myself to face him. Not yet. “Miss Sophie is all settled upstairs.”

“Great,” I said shortly. My voice was weak but clear.

Liam didn’t say anything, but I knew he was still there. After a few seconds, I could hear his soft footsteps moving closer. My eyes were still glued to that photo of my father. Liam walked slowly toward me. I knew I should turn around and face him, but I couldn’t. It was as if some magnetic force kept me standing still, forcing me to stare into the eyes of a ghost.

Liam stepped up beside me. He followed my gaze to the picture and sighed deeply. Without a word, he placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. He stood there with me for what felt like hours, just holding on to my shoulder while we stared at my father’s face.