Damn you, Zander!
It was a relief to be angry.
A welcome change from guilt and remorse and shame. In fact, so angry was Charlotte that as she stepped out of the lift and headed across the foyer to the restaurant, to the table where Nico waited, instead of burning in a blush when she saw Zander sitting on the other side of the restaurant, looking up from the paper he was reading and sipping on coffee as if he did not have a care, instead of looking hurriedly away, she positively glowered at him. Her anger forced her to hold her head high as she crossed the room and joined her boss.
Nico had ordered two coffees—a milky one for Charlotte and a short black for himself. He gave a very tight smile as she approached. ‘Well,’ Nico said as she took a seat at the table. ‘This is awkward.’ He was as direct as ever and so honest with the circumstances that it made her smile, even made her laugh just a little as Nico rolled his eyes, but her smile soon faded. ‘You should have told me you had spoken with Zander—you should have informed me that you had met him.’
‘I know,’ Charlotte said. ‘I tried.’
‘I know that you tried to call, and that you found out my father was ill.’ Nico stirred sugar into his coffee, but even as she entered into the most difficult of conversations, her shoulder was burning, for she could feel Zander watching them. ‘But, still, you should have said when you spoke with Constantine.’ She was shamed by the pity in Nico’s eyes now when he looked at her. ‘I could have warned you what he is like.’
‘You knew?’ She was determined not to cry, not in front of Nico and certainly not with Zander close by, but, damn it, it was hard to sit there and have it confirmed just how easily she had been used. ‘You knew that his intentions were not good?’
‘When you rang and said that the owner was coming, that Zander …’ Nico grimaced for it had been a painful realisation for him too. ‘I went and got the house deeds, saw his signature and, call it twin intuition, I knew there was trouble brewing. I knew that Zander knew who I was, that he was coming to confront me.’
‘I believed him when he said it would be a surprise.’
‘You listen only to me now,’ Nico warned. ‘Your loyalty is only to me.’
And she nodded, because it had to be now, because Zander had let her down so badly. All their time together had been a sham of his making.
‘What did he tell you?’ Nico asked. ‘Did he speak about our parents?’
‘No.’ She raked her mind back over their conversations, realised just how much he had avoided talking about himself. ‘He gave nothing away.’
‘He must have revealed something?’ Nico urged. ‘You met him on Saturday. Surely you spoke, not just …’ He held his tongue and she was grateful, for they had not just tumbled into bed.
‘We spoke a lot.’
‘Did he say anything about our mother?’
‘Nothing, just that he had never met her.’
‘Charlotte?’
‘That was it. He said that his time here on Xanos was not all happy.’ And even if Zander had betrayed her in the vilest of ways, still she could not do the same to him, could not tell Nico about the markets and the thieving, about the taverna and the memories he had shared. She was sure, quite sure, Nico didn’t need to know that. Already Constantine had said they knew the father was a brute. ‘Nico, he told me nothing. He was using me to get information, not the other way around, and I told him nothing. Despite the mistakes I have made over the weekend, I was not indiscreet about you.’
He accepted that, and for that she was grateful. ‘I need you to stay on in Xanos—perhaps into next week. I want you to look into the licensing for the club he is talking about building, just get some research together, and I have a lead on my mother. I need you to ring around, perhaps fly out to the mainland and visit a few homes.’ He looked up. ‘I trust that is not a problem.’
So badly she wanted to say that it was the most terrible problem, that she needed to get back to her mother, that travel was impossible, but the reality was that right now she needed a job, needed to pay for the bill that would come in for the nursing home, needed the wages that Nico paid. Cold reality beckoned in a way that it never had before. She needed this job, needed to work even if that might mean her mother had to live permanently in the home. It would be far easier to sit and weep now, but instead she forced her voice to be casual, even managed to look Nico in the eye as she spoke. ‘Of course it’s not.’
‘And I want that land,’ Nico said. ‘I am not moving my wife and child from Xanos at his bidding. If he accepts my offer, you are to get it immediately in writing.’
‘I am to deal with him?’ That she could not handle.
‘Of course.’ Nico frowned. ‘Though you will deal with him rather more professionally this time, I hope.’ And he asked her again. ‘Is that a problem?’
She knew what Nico was doing, knew that even if he was giving her a chance to redeem herself, he also saw her as a link to his brother. If she had had any energy left, she would have argued her case, but instead Charlotte sat there, knew when she was beaten.
‘No, it won’t be a problem.’
Nico stood. ‘Charlotte, I’m trusting you to do the right thing.’ She nodded, and closed her eyes. In a rare move, Nico put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze, for he was more disappointed than angry. Perhaps even a little guilty, for his private life had now impacted badly on her and, yes, he did want her to find out some more. ‘All will be fine.’
Zander sat, watching his brother’s hand on her shoulder, watching her back to him, watching the man he hated most give Charlotte comfort. He knew she needed comfort because of him, and it caused something to stir inside as he recalled his words, recalled the gasp that had come from her lips and the shock on her face.
His richly blended coffee tasted like acid as it slid down his throat. There was a burn in his stomach and a clench in his scalp as his brother walked past, as Nico had the gall to give him a brief nod.
He did not want a polite greeting, did not want to foster anything with him. Yet the eyes that had looked in his direction felt like his own, the face, the walk—it was like looking in the mirror, except different. Looking at a reflection that was a better version of himself.
He looked over to where Charlotte remained and usually Zander did not entertain guilt, considered it a wasted emotion, an expensive emotion—but he could see her rigid posture. She turned her head and smiled as Nico said goodbye to her, and then he watched her shoulders drop, just a fraction, but he could see the internal collapse, see her hand tremble as she picked up her coffee, see her try to right herself, to sit up straight again, and then, when it didn’t work, he watched as she stood to leave. He could see her eyes avoiding him as she walked across the restaurant. ‘Charlotte.’ He called her name, and of course she ignored him. He caught her wrist as she brushed past. ‘Join me.’
‘Join you!’ She could not believe his audacity. It was way too soon to attempt professional. Surely she would be given a day’s grace at the very least before she had to deal with him. ‘Nico is still here. If you have business to discuss I can arrange—’
‘I do not want to speak with him.’
‘Then I can get Paulo …’ She was having great trouble talking, could feel his fingers scalding her wrist. She wanted to slap him, to pick up his coffee and toss it in his lap, to hand back even an ounce of the hurt that he had landed her with, but Nico had spelt out the rules. Nico, she realised in that hopeless moment as she stood there, was using her too for she was, for now, the link to Zander, the pawn, the plaything that might make him linger, the trinket Zander wanted, perhaps for a while. She stood and remembered, remembered his cruel words, how he had sneered that her legs had been wrapped around him. And she didn’t just hear his words, she saw the vision too, was back there in the passionate