Chapter 5 — The Man Who Answered for Me

I showed Charlotte the message instead of turning my phone over.

She read it and stood.

"I'm going to my office."

"He came there because he wants to reach you."

"Then he can explain himself where I have cameras, staff, and my own security."

I looked at her for a moment.

"I'm coming with you."

"I expected you to."

We left Summer with Nora and drove into the city. Charlotte called ahead, instructed her receptionist to keep Owen in the lobby, and told her security chief not to let him leave before she arrived.

Miles met us in the parking garage.

"He says he came to protect her," he told me.

"From what?"

"You."

I felt Charlotte's hand touch my arm.

"Don't give him the performance he's hoping for."

I looked at her. She held my gaze.

"He's in my building. Let me speak first."

I nodded.

Owen stood near the reception desk in a gray suit. He smiled when he saw Charlotte, then saw me behind her.

The smile disappeared.

"Connor. I didn't know you were back in contact."

"You should have checked your photographs."

His eyes moved to Miles. No help there.

Charlotte walked past him and opened a meeting-room door.

"Inside."

Owen obeyed because refusing would have attracted attention. Two members of her security staff stayed in the hallway.

She put the old email on the screen.

"Did he authorize this?"

Owen looked at me.

"I followed the standing security protocol."

"Did he authorize this message?" she repeated.

"Not in those exact words."

"I was unconscious on that date," I said. "Those exact words did a lot of work."

Charlotte remained standing at the head of the table.

"And the engagement announcement?"

"Information from a contact."

"Which contact?"

Owen straightened his jacket.

"We should discuss this privately, Connor."

"We are. She's part of the discussion."

His face tightened.

"You were recovering. You had enemies following every lead. She was a woman you had met once. I made a judgment."

"You manufactured a report," Miles said.

He put a folder on the table. Inside were the original photographs Owen had used. Charlotte at a charity event in Savannah. Charlotte beside a distant cousin whose engagement had been announced that month.

The airport photograph had been taken during a two-day business trip.

Owen looked at the images and said nothing.

Charlotte folded her arms.

"You decided he shouldn't come back to me."

"I decided he shouldn't risk an operation for an attachment."

"An attachment," I repeated.

He finally looked at me properly.

"I kept things running while you couldn't stand. Somebody had to consider the consequences."

"You took my choices and called it protection."

"You would have gone to her."

"Yes."

The answer came so quickly that Charlotte turned toward me.

I didn't look away from Owen.

"I would have gone to her. And if she'd told me she was pregnant, I would have found a way to stay. You don't get to tell me otherwise."

Owen reached for the folder he'd brought.

Miles stopped his hand.

"Leave it."

Charlotte opened it herself.

Photographs from outside her house. Summer in the garden. Charlotte getting into her car.

Her face went white.

Owen said, "I wanted her to understand what becoming involved means."

I leaned across the table.

"Who gave you these?"

He swallowed.

"They were sent to me."

"By Kane."

"He knew you'd come back eventually. He asked me to make you see reason."

Miles stood between us before I could move farther.

Charlotte took the photograph of Summer and placed it face down.

"You will leave my building with security," she told Owen. "You will not contact me, my daughter, or anyone employed here. The photographs and your statements go to the people handling the threats."

Owen looked toward the door, then at me.

"You need me."

"I needed you to do the job I paid you for," I said. "We're finished."

Miles took him out. I stayed with Charlotte.

For a moment, she didn't move.

Then she sat in her chair and pressed a hand over her mouth.

I went to her, kneeling beside the desk rather than standing over her.

"Charlotte."

She shook her head.

"I spent years believing you didn't want us."

"I know."

"I almost stopped looking. If that mechanic hadn't called Nora back, I would have stopped."

I put my hand on the chair beside hers.

"You found me."

"It shouldn't have been that hard."

"No. It shouldn't."

She let me take her hand.

Through the glass wall, employees walked past with coffee and documents. Her world continued outside the room while ours changed shape inside it.

"I don't forgive the part that was yours," she said.

"I'm not asking you to."

"But I believe you didn't know about her."

I bowed my head over our joined hands.

That was more than I had expected to receive that morning.

A knock interrupted us. Blake Sutton, one of Charlotte's commercial partners, stood outside with a proposal under his arm.

She wiped her eyes before opening the door.

"This isn't a good time, Blake."

His gaze moved past her to me, still kneeling beside the chair.

"I can see that. Your staff said there was some disturbance."

"It's handled."

"You should be careful whom you let into this building."

He looked at my boots.

"Your father's company deserves a little dignity."

Charlotte stepped forward.

"You can discuss my company when you have something relevant to say."

I stood behind her.

Blake glanced at me and smiled.

"What are you, her mechanic?"

"Among other things."

"Then perhaps leave the business conversation to us."

I could have ended his confidence with a name. Instead, I watched Charlotte take the proposal from his hand.

"You wanted a decision," she said. "Here it is. We're not renewing. Your last two shipments were late, and your proposal addresses neither delay."

His expression sharpened.

"You can't make that decision emotionally."

"I made it yesterday. You're hearing it today."

She handed the document back and shut the door.

I laughed once, surprised.

Charlotte looked at me.

"What?"

"You didn't need any help."

"No. But I liked knowing you weren't leaving."

I stepped closer.

"You can get used to that."

She lifted her chin, then caught the front of my shirt.

"Don't say things you don't intend to prove."

"I intend to prove it."

Her eyes dropped to my mouth. Mine stayed on hers.

The intercom rang before either of us moved.

Charlotte closed her eyes.

"I hate this office," she said.