Chapter 40: Suspicious Ex Fiancee

Maurice scoffed. "Pfftt... I get to walk around in my pajamas in the morning and have nothing to do all day. Boy, it suits me."

Dorian poured coffee into a cup. "It just..." He turned and made a vague circle with his fingers in his father’s direction. "I’m used to you being dressed and put together on a Monday morning."

For most of Dorian’s life, Maurice had looked ready for court before most normal people had figured out where they left their shoes.

Maurice picked up his newspaper. "That’s your problem, not mine. How’s it going at the firm?"

"Better." Dorian leaned one hip against the counter. "So far, the trending news has quieted down. The Kanes still plan on withdrawing their account with us,"

The Kanes were not the sort of clients Heathcliffe & Associates casually allowed to walk out the door. They had been with the firm for years.

Enough billable work to make losing them extremely unpleasant.

"Mrs Kane said she would prefer even a paralegal to Uncle Allistair. She doesn’t want him handling anything connected to the family anymore."

"That’s not acceptable. I’ll talk to them. They’re our biggest account. We cannot afford to lose them." Maurice gave him a pointed look. "If you’d listened to me and chosen family law, we wouldn’t be in this situation."

"Family law is no fun."

Maurice lowered the paper completely. "People getting divorced, fighting over estates, succession battles and wealthy families destroying one another over money isn’t entertaining enough for you?"

"Not compared to murder."

Maurice sighed. "You could have been a very good family lawyer."

"I am a very good criminal lawyer." Dorian reached for another piece of toast. "Besides, Uncle Allistair would never allow it."

"Hmmm..."

Dorian’s phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen. "I gotta go, Dad. Adrian’s here."

"Your wife?"

Dorian downed the rest of his coffee. "She’ll take the car. I’ll talk to you later. Let me know how it goes with the Kanes."

Maurice grunted in response. Adrian was already waiting in the vehicle. Dorian got in, shut the door and had barely settled before Adrian started.

"Good morning. You have the prosecutors’ conference at eight-thirty, and the associates’ briefing was moved to eleven because—"

Dorian looked out the window. "Get someone to fit a chef’s office on the third floor of the townhouse. My mother and Ginny have Naomi working the wedding. She’ll need space to work in. Have someone figure it out. Whatever she needs."

"Yes, sir."

*****

Naomi was not naturally a suspicious person. She liked to think the best of people until they gave her a very good reason not to.

Callum Sterling was beginning to give her several. Their first meeting had sounded like an employer conducting an orientation for a new member of staff.

Everything had been about what she needed to change in order to become suitable for the role of Mrs Callum Sterling.

Barely any interest in who she actually was. Which, considering their engagement had been arranged for practical reasons, Naomi could understand.

What she did not understand was what had happened to that Callum. Because suddenly, the man seemed determined to woo her.

The flowers weren’t even what bothered her. Flowers were flowers. She could handle flowers. It was the messages.

Good morning, beautiful. I hope your day is as radiant as your smile.

He had met her twice. How much experience did the man have with her smile? Then there had been:

I find myself thinking about the life we could build together.

And:

Sometimes the most unexpected paths lead us to exactly where we’re meant to be.

Naomi had almost thrown her phone across the kitchen. Who was this man? More importantly, why did every message sound like something he had picked off ChatGPT after typing, Romantic things to send the woman I am contractually expected to marry?

Callum had gone from practically issuing employment terms to behaving like a man auditioning for the lead role in a romance movie.

And Naomi wanted to know why. She considered calling Aunt Diana. Then she stopped herself.

No.

If Diana knew something and Richard found out Naomi had been asking questions, her aunt would be the one forced to deal with him.

Better to leave Diana out of it. Which meant Naomi would have to deal with Callum herself. Apparently Mr I Don’t Take No for an Answer needed a refresher course.

She called him. He answered so quickly she wondered whether he had been staring at the phone.

"Naomi?"

"Hi."

"I’ve been trying to reach you."

Yes.

She had noticed. Her call log looked like a campaign. "I know. Can you meet me tonight?"

"Of course."

"Outside the restaurant."

"I can send a car for you."

"No. Just meet me there, Callum."

"Alright."

She ended the call. By the time her shift ended that night, Naomi was tired. Her feet hurt. Her shoulders hurt. She had spent hours in a hot kitchen and still had to get back to Dorian’s townhouse. She walked outside and leaned against the restaurant wall while she waited, folding her arms.

A Bentley eased toward the curb. A man got out from the front. Naomi watched him walk around the vehicle.

The driver opened the rear door. Her eyebrows rose. The man had a driver? Callum stepped out. Perfectly put together.

And carrying another bouquet of flowers. Then she saw the gift bag in his other hand. Oh, for God’s sake.

She pushed away from the wall. This was exactly what she meant. What the hell had changed? Callum spotted her.

His face immediately brightened. Naomi began walking toward him, silently praying he would not do that European kiss thing again.

She didn’t understand it. She did not want his mouth anywhere near her face tonight. No such luck.

"Naomi..."

Before she could strategically take a step backward, Callum leaned in and kissed one cheek. Then the other.

Naomi stood there enduring it. He pulled back smiling.

"I’m so glad you called."