Insidious (17 page)

Stewart placed his hand in the small of my back as we followed Trish to a glass room. Located near a multitude of desks and doorways, the room had glass on all four sides. When Trish flipped a switch the walls of windows instantly turned opaque and previously invisible blinds created a secluded, private room for our meeting. “Please have a seat.” She gestured toward the table and plush chairs. “While you wait for Mr. Craven, may I get either of you anything to drink? Anything to make the two of you more comfortable.”

Stewart looked my direction with a raised brow. Truthfully, I found her fawning amusing. I did my best not to laugh. “Would you like a cup of coffee, my dear?”

Trish failed to hide her flinch at Stewart’s term of endearment. Nodding, I stifled my amusement. “Yes,” I turned toward Trish. “Thank you, Trish, coffee would be wonderful.”

“And coffee for me, also,” Stewart volunteered. “I’ll take mine black. Miss Conway prefers hers with cream and two sugars.”

Trish immediately repeated the instructions and retreated from the room.

When Stewart reached for my hand, I grinned and asked, “What the hell?”

“As Mrs. Harrington, you’re going to see a lot of that. I thought you might enjoy having a little fun. Besides, ordering something you have no intention of drinking will only help your reputation. I guarantee she’s in the coffee room right now gossiping with anyone who’ll listen. When she finds your full, untouched cup, it will make the company email.”

“Ha, ha, I thought maybe you forgot that I didn’t drink coffee.”

“No, I don’t forget. The world you’re entering is full of piranhas. One day you’ll be able to swim without me, but in the meantime, I’ll be glad to help you grow your teeth.”

I never thought of myself as someone who needed help. The whole concept seemed foreign; however, before I could give it much thought, the door opened and Parker Craven entered. Unlike Trish, who avoided looking in my direction, Parker seemed incapable of looking away; his large, brown eyes almost came out of his head as he took me in. I saw something sinister in his gaze, predatory and frightening. As much as I wanted to turn toward Stewart for the help he’d offered, something told me this would be a recurring theme with the good ol’ boys in Stewart’s circle. The sooner I learned to deal with it, the better. I maintained my composure and thinned my smile.

It was a look I’d seen my mother do throughout my life. It was her I’m-a-bitch-and-pretending-to-play-nice face. As the silence grew, it seemed appropriate. From my peripheral vision, I watched Stewart slowly stand. Parker Craven was a tall, handsome man, with dark hair and olive-colored skin. However, Stewart’s stance, in some unspoken show of alpha-male superiority, dwarfed Parker’s presence. Finally, Parker turned to Stewart, and exclaimed, “Holy hell, are you shitting me?”

Stewart unbuttoned his jacket and retook his seat. With his arm casually around the back of my chair he said, “Parker, this is Victoria Conway, whom I’ve mentioned.”

Parker extended his hand in my direction. “Victoria, my pleasure.”

When his clammy touch enveloped my hand, I immediately regretted not offering a nod instead of contact. As quickly as possible, I retrieved my hand and repressed the desire to wipe it on my jeans. I couldn’t believe I needed to sit with this man and discuss the contents of the contract. No longer did I wonder about the attorney who had the fortitude to compose such a ludicrous agreement. I knew in the pit of my stomach that he was as slimy as some of the clauses.

“I’m not sure how Stewart convinced you to get this far,” Parker began, with a licentious grin, “but I must say, I’m glad that he did.”

Clearing his throat, Stewart brought everyone’s attention to him. “Park, today is about the contract. To avoid the obvious repercussions to Victoria’s stepfather, we need to finalize this sooner, rather than later.”

“Yes, yes of course.” He opened the folder before him. “By that statement, I’m looking for confirmation that the two of you are willing to endeavor upon the marriage contract?” He looked from one of us to the other. “I need verbal confirmation from both of you.”

“Yes, that is correct,” Stewart replied.

Both sets of eyes turned toward me.
Fuck!
It was truly the precipice of my life. On one side I had life as I’d known it, except without my stepfather and with the aftermath of his untimely death, while on the other hand I had…

A promise?

A contract?

A life sentence?

“Victoria?” Stewart asked, bringing me back to the table of decision.

I squared my shoulders and fought the trembling. “Yes, Mr. Craven, that is correct.” With that, I signed my life away.

MY HEAD ACHED as we stood to leave Parker’s office. The contract discussions hadn’t eased the uncomfortable feeling I got from Stewart’s attorney. When we stood to leave, Stewart shook his hand, but remembering the clamminess of his contact, I only nodded. “Goodbye, Mr. Craven.”

“Miss Conway, I look forward to getting to know you better.”

I used my play-nice-bitch-face; honestly, I’d been getting a lot of use out of it since we entered Parker’s office. Ignoring the rest of the conversation, my thoughts went to my phone. As Stewart once again placed his hand in the small of my back and spoke with Parker, my purse vibrated again. It had been happening periodically throughout our meeting as we dissected and discussed clauses and addendums. Willingly, I allowed Stewart to lead me out to the car. When we neared, I saw Travis opening the door and giving me a feeling similar to Parker.

Once the door was closed, Stewart squeezed my hand. “Are any of those messages from Randall?”

“I-I haven’t checked,” I trepidatiously replied. Pulling my phone from my purse, I scrolled the text messages, all nine of them. I had six from Valerie. I hadn’t spoken to her since last night, and I’d missed my last advanced biology study session. Surely, she was concerned. My last, final examination was tomorrow, and it wasn’t like me to blow off obligations. I had two text messages from friends in my advanced biology class, probably also concerned with my uncharacteristic absence, and one text from my mother. “No, but I do have one from my mother.”

I accessed the message:

“VICTORIA, AS YOU CAN IMAGINE WE ARE ANXIOUSLY AWAITING A MESSAGE FROM YOU. THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO REPAY ALL OF RANDALL’S GOODWILL. I CERTAINLY HOPE YOU DON’T PLAN ON DISAPPOINTING US.”

I bristled in my seat as the magnitude of my decision weighed heavily on my chest.

“Do you care to share?” Stewart asked.

I couldn’t look his direction. Everything had me on edge. I wasn’t one to cry, yet with my eyes stinging from the impending tears, I handed him my phone. There was no need to pretend I had a great family. In three days, Stewart would be my husband. That wouldn’t even be possible if it weren’t for Randall. Stewart was obviously aware of how totally fucked-up Randall and Marilyn Sound were.

His body tensed next to mine as he read. Finally, he handed me back my phone with a simple observation. “She’s really a bitch.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. It was better than crying. “I know we signed the contract, but do you really want to be part of this messed-up family?”

He reached for my thigh and gave it a reassuring pat. “No, I have no desire to be part of Dr. and Mrs. Sound’s fucked-up family.”

My eyes opened wide.
What the hell?

Stewart continued, “But I believe you feel the same… am I right?”

I nodded.

“Three days, my dear. In three days you’ll be Mrs. Stewart Harrington. You can tell them to never contact you again.” He leaned closer, and kissed my cheek. “In all actuality, you can tell them that now. We may not be legally wed, but the ink on the contract is dry. There’s no backing out now.”

“In three days I’ll be Mrs.
Victoria
Harrington,” I corrected.

“In this town, darling, you’ll be Mrs. Stewart Harrington. Get used to it.”

I inhaled, feeling the muscles in my neck strain as I peered at the traffic outside the tinted windows and tried to change the subject. “Has Travis delivered the money?”

“Not yet. He’s taking me to my office and you back to the penthouse. After that, he will.”

“I want to take my advanced biology final tomorrow. I know it sounds juvenile with all that’s happening, but I’ve worked hard for it. If I score the top in my class, I have an automatic scholarship to the University of Miami.”

Stewart had pulled out his phone and was reading. Without turning he murmured, “Mrs. Stewart Harrington needs neither an advanced biology grade to graduate nor a scholarship to attend college. Your next two days are fully booked. Currently, there are tailors and seamstresses waiting at the apartment to take your measurements.” He briefly turned my direction. “In three days, you’ll not be seen wearing these kinds of clothes, and the work on your wedding dress will commence immediately. There’s also a personal shopper coming later this afternoon to determine your preferences. She’ll get your closet fully stocked. Besides the wedding gown, you’ll need a nicer version of off-the-rack until the custom-made items can be produced.”

My preferences?
“What if my preference is what I’m wearing?”

Stewart didn’t respond; instead, still looking at his phone he continued, “You also have various appointments scheduled on Tuesday and Wednesday with hair stylists, manicurists, and cosmetologists. With facials, highlights, waxing,
et cetera,
your schedule is full. On Thursday we leave for Belize.”

“Belize? I don’t have a passport.”

He looked at me and shook his head. “You will. I’ll call Parker and have one expedited. You may need to squeeze in a visit to the Department of State Passport Agency into your schedule, but it can be done.”

I wanted to say that I thought it took more than three days to get a passport; however, I knew if I did, I’d hear what I’d been hearing all day.
It will happen
. Before I could reply, my phone rang. Looking at the screen, I saw MARILYN. “My mother,” I whispered.

“I’d give you privacy, but there isn’t anywhere for me to go,” Stewart offered, trying to lighten my mood.

It rang again.

“Are you going to answer it?” he asked.

Was I? Was I ready to have this conversation?

“Hello, Mother,” I said as I hit the speaker button. I didn’t want to repeat the conversation, and besides, I wanted Stewart to hear what I dealt with, firsthand.

“Victoria,” her voice was uncharacteristically relieved. “Why wouldn’t you return my message? What’s wrong with you? You had to have known that we’ve been worried sick.”

My eyes met Stewart’s. I was beginning to read his agitation by his clenched jaw and narrowed gaze. “It’s so nice to hear from you too.”

“Don’t be cute, young lady.”

The absurdity of her tone made me laugh. I had to cover my mouth to keep my amusement silent. “I don’t think you’ve ever accused me of being cute. What exactly have you been so worried about, Mother? My life? My future? Truly anything about me?”

“Victoria, don’t be selfish. Randall is right here. We want to know that you didn’t disappoint our family.”

“Seeing as how I’ve been a disappointment all of my life, I don’t know how you’d think this would be any different.”

The voice changed; it was now Randall. “Victoria, I’ve tried several times to reach Mr. Harrington. I can’t seem to get past his secretary.”

I smiled at Stewart, who nodded.

Thank you
, I mouthed. “Why, Randall, why are you telling me this?”

My mother gasped in the background. Her shrill voice cut through the speaker of my phone. “Don’t tell us that you didn’t go to the meeting we arranged for you yesterday.”
Was it really only yesterday?
“Don’t tell us that you didn’t discuss an arrangement with Mr. Harrington.”

“Oh, I went.”

“Vikki, I know this seems like a big favor we’re asking of you—”

I cut off Randall’s unfelt words. “A big favor? No, sorry.
Please pick something up at the store
is a favor. Sell yourself to save my ass is not a favor.”

“Don’t speak to your father—”

This time it was Stewart who spoke, interrupting my mother. “Mrs. Sound, from now on, you will not ever speak to your daughter with that tone. Is that understood?”

In our brief time together, I had never heard such command and authority in Stewart’s voice.

It was Randall who next spoke. “Er, Mr. Harrington, can we assume that this means our arrangement is complete?”

“Dr. Sound, I’m waiting to hear your wife’s answer to my question.”

Oh my God
. Listening as Randall’s voice wavered and my mother was being called out for the bitch she truly was made my body tense with excitement.

“Mr. Harrington,” my mother began, “I understand. Thank you.”

An apology to me. How hard would that be?

Stewart watched my expression as I listened. As if he read my mind, he said, “Mrs. Sound, Victoria is waiting to hear an apology, not only for your outburst, but for the situation in which you and Dr. Sound have placed her.”