Wedding Night
I stare at the phone. What did he say?
“I work with Ben, and this is a crucial time for him,” Lorcan presses on. “He can’t just zoom off on some ludicrous, spur-of-the-moment honeymoon. He has responsibilities. He has commitments. Now, I don’t know your sister’s motivation—”
“What?” I’m so outraged, I don’t know where to start.
“Excuse me?” He sounds puzzled that I’ve dared to interrupt. Oh, he’s one of those.
“OK, mister.” Instantly I feel stupid for saying “mister.” But too late now. Better plow on. “First of all, my sister didn’t talk anybody into anything. I think you’ll find your friend arrived out of the blue and bamboozled her into getting married. And, second, if you think I phoned you up to ‘plan the table decorations,’ you’re very much mistaken. I’m intending to put a stop to this marriage myself. With or without your help.”
“I see.” He sounds skeptical.
“Is Ben saying that Lottie talked him into it?” I demand. “Because if so, he’s lying.”
“Not as such,” says Lorcan after a pause. “But Ben can be … what shall we say? Easily swayed.”
“Easily swayed?” I retort furiously. “If anyone was doing any swaying, he was. My sister is at a low point, she’s very vulnerable, and she doesn’t need some chancer coming along.” I’m still half-expecting this Ben character to belong to some weirdo cult or time-share pyramid scheme. “I mean, what’s his job? I don’t know anything about him.”
“You don’t know his background.” Again he sounds skeptical. God, this guy is pissing me off.
“I know nothing except he met my sister on her gap year and they had a teenage shag-fest and now he says he’s always loved her and they’re planning to get married tomorrow and resume the teenage shag-fest. And he works for Dupree Sanders.”
“He owns Dupree Sanders,” Lorcan corrects me.
“What?” I say stupidly.
I don’t even know what Dupree Sanders is, exactly. I didn’t stop to check it out.
“As of his father’s death a year ago, Ben is the major shareholder in Dupree Sanders, a paper-manufacturing company worth thirty million pounds. And, for what it’s worth, his life has been complicated and he’s also pretty vulnerable.”
As I digest his words, a boiling hot fury starts to rise within me.
“You think my sister’s a gold digger?” I erupt. “That’s what you think?”
I have never been so insulted in all my life. The arrogant … conceited … shit. I’m breathing faster and faster, staring daggers at his screen face.
“I didn’t say that,” he counters calmly.
“Just listen to me, Mr. Adamson,” I say in my iciest tones. “Let’s look at the facts, shall we? Your precious friend talked my sister into a ridiculous, rushed marriage. Not the other way round. How do you know she isn’t an heiress worth even more? How do you know we’re not related to the … the Gettys?”
“Touché,” says Lorcan after a pause. “Are you?”
“Of course we’re not,” I say impatiently. “The point is, you jumped to conclusions. Surprising, for a lawyer.”
There’s another silence. I get the feeling I’ve needled him. Well, good.
“OK,” he says finally. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to imply anything about your sister. Maybe she and Ben are a match made in heaven. But that doesn’t change the fact that we have some very big stuff happening at the company. Ben needs to be available in the UK now. If he wants to go on honeymoon, he’ll have to do it later.”
“Or never,” I put in.
“Or never. Indeed.” Lorcan sounds amused. “You’re not a fan of Ben, then?”
“I’ve never even met him. But this has been a useful chat. It’s all I needed to know. Leave it with me. I’ll deal with it.”
“I’ll deal with it,” he contradicts me. “I’ll talk to Ben.”
God, this guy is winding me up. Who says he should be in charge?
“I’ll talk to Lottie,” I counter as authoritatively as I can. “I’ll fix it.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” He talks straight across me. “I’ll speak to Ben. The whole thing will be forgotten.”
“I’ll talk to Lottie,” I repeat, ignoring him. “And I’ll let you know when I’ve sorted everything out.”
There’s silence. Neither of us is going to concede, I can tell.