11-30-2024, 06:55 PM
(This post was last modified: 11-30-2024, 07:04 PM by Natalie Grey.)
She was working from a coffee shop when the message she’d been waiting for came through. DeGarmo wanted to meet; he finally thought he had something for her. Her expression stilled; not displeasure, but certainly something guarded as she swiped the message away and sat back in her chair, hands wrapped around her coffee cup. Contemplation furrowed her brow, and she stared at her work screen, but her thoughts were all inward. She remembered what Jay had said that night by the lake, about the powers he feared were involved. They’d never spoken of it since, and so much had happened in the days afterwards that perhaps his desire for answers had buried itself under the trauma. She wouldn’t blame him for that. But her sense of the shadowy game being played above their heads was too insidious to ignore. Being caught unknowingly in its currents had cost Jay everything, and Natalie couldn’t let it lie. Even if she never admitted to him the dangerous game she was playing.
Her eyes swept suddenly upwards as a figure loomed over her table. For a moment fear tightened her chest at the disturbance, especially given the measure of her thoughts. But the tension fled when she recognised the man who presently slipped himself into the space opposite. Little betrayed her reaction further despite her surprise at seeing him here. A heavy coat draped his shoulders against the Russian cold, a mildly discomforted twist pursing his lips as he cleared the condensation from his glasses with a pocket square. It had been years since she’d last seen him, and though grey pierced his neatly manicured beard and new lines tightened his eyes, he had barely changed. Transported unexpectedly to memories of her distant childhood, Natalie said nothing, only raised her brows in belligerent askance. Oscar Chamberlain was her grandfather’s aide, and he was a long way from home.
“You’ve ignored calls, messages and plane tickets. Are you really surprised to see me, Natalie?”
“This is inconvenient,” she said levelly, as though men who ought to be in London showed up at her table all the time. The unexpectedness of his presence had not dimmed, but she parsed through it quickly in the moment; realised what it must mean if Oscar was here. She knew he’d be alone, that there would likely be a car idling out on the street for them. He was perched on his seat for propriety’s sake, and not because he intended to wait long for her obedience. The only irritation he outwardly displayed was in the lenses of his glasses, but it wasn’t what he was annoyed with.
In truth Natalie had been diligently avoiding this reckoning. She’d understood the moment Brandon had made his oblique threats in exchange for his permission that she’d just passed a threshold to consequence – because she was never going to bring Jay back to the Custody unwillingly. Not that she could have remotely predicted how badly things turned out. Her mother had already made Edward’s Northbrook’s fury at her decisions perfectly clear to her, but she’d convinced herself it would wane if she managed to keep her head down for long enough. This made for an unwelcome complication, and poorly timed.
“It most certainly is,” Oscar agreed, hooking the glasses back on his nose, and gesturing with one gloved hand to the exit. Natalie’s jaw tightened, but she did not argue. Instead she closed her screen and slid her wallet from the table. DeGarmo’s message burned in the back of her mind; the tangibility of answers denied. Oscar stood when she did, but was clearly reluctant to trust her trailing behind him. A smirk revealed the measure of his trust. He recalled the recalcitrant teenager she had been, clearly. She shot her response before she tucked the phone away – |Three days. Send me the location| – and then shouldered out the door.
They did not return to her apartment; Oscar assured her all her travel needs had been dutifully accommodated for. Resigned to the escort, Natalie was keen to get it all over with, and she made no complaint. Now the soft hum of the engines filled her ears. The last time she’d been on a plane had not exactly been a pleasant experience, and the plush luxury of the Northbrook jet did little to offset the cascade of memory. Her thoughts were mired in the past as she stared out of the window. She doubted her grandfather planned an interrogation, and he would certainly know more of what had actually happened than the sanitised version shared with her mother. But the quiet found all the cracks in her defences. It was one of the reasons she kept herself so busy.
Work on the refurbishment would continue easily without her, but some things could not be so easily substituted. She’d shot Emily a quick message before take-off – |I’ve been summoned to London. I might not make it.| Then she'd shut her phone off. Touchdown was still a good few hours away, and she wouldn’t see any reply before then, but neither was she keen for the concealed disappointment of any response. Their friendship was tentative, forged from a dry cleaning bill for a bloody backseat and a concerned phone call. But it was Jay she was thinking of.
Her eyes swept suddenly upwards as a figure loomed over her table. For a moment fear tightened her chest at the disturbance, especially given the measure of her thoughts. But the tension fled when she recognised the man who presently slipped himself into the space opposite. Little betrayed her reaction further despite her surprise at seeing him here. A heavy coat draped his shoulders against the Russian cold, a mildly discomforted twist pursing his lips as he cleared the condensation from his glasses with a pocket square. It had been years since she’d last seen him, and though grey pierced his neatly manicured beard and new lines tightened his eyes, he had barely changed. Transported unexpectedly to memories of her distant childhood, Natalie said nothing, only raised her brows in belligerent askance. Oscar Chamberlain was her grandfather’s aide, and he was a long way from home.
“You’ve ignored calls, messages and plane tickets. Are you really surprised to see me, Natalie?”
“This is inconvenient,” she said levelly, as though men who ought to be in London showed up at her table all the time. The unexpectedness of his presence had not dimmed, but she parsed through it quickly in the moment; realised what it must mean if Oscar was here. She knew he’d be alone, that there would likely be a car idling out on the street for them. He was perched on his seat for propriety’s sake, and not because he intended to wait long for her obedience. The only irritation he outwardly displayed was in the lenses of his glasses, but it wasn’t what he was annoyed with.
In truth Natalie had been diligently avoiding this reckoning. She’d understood the moment Brandon had made his oblique threats in exchange for his permission that she’d just passed a threshold to consequence – because she was never going to bring Jay back to the Custody unwillingly. Not that she could have remotely predicted how badly things turned out. Her mother had already made Edward’s Northbrook’s fury at her decisions perfectly clear to her, but she’d convinced herself it would wane if she managed to keep her head down for long enough. This made for an unwelcome complication, and poorly timed.
“It most certainly is,” Oscar agreed, hooking the glasses back on his nose, and gesturing with one gloved hand to the exit. Natalie’s jaw tightened, but she did not argue. Instead she closed her screen and slid her wallet from the table. DeGarmo’s message burned in the back of her mind; the tangibility of answers denied. Oscar stood when she did, but was clearly reluctant to trust her trailing behind him. A smirk revealed the measure of his trust. He recalled the recalcitrant teenager she had been, clearly. She shot her response before she tucked the phone away – |Three days. Send me the location| – and then shouldered out the door.
They did not return to her apartment; Oscar assured her all her travel needs had been dutifully accommodated for. Resigned to the escort, Natalie was keen to get it all over with, and she made no complaint. Now the soft hum of the engines filled her ears. The last time she’d been on a plane had not exactly been a pleasant experience, and the plush luxury of the Northbrook jet did little to offset the cascade of memory. Her thoughts were mired in the past as she stared out of the window. She doubted her grandfather planned an interrogation, and he would certainly know more of what had actually happened than the sanitised version shared with her mother. But the quiet found all the cracks in her defences. It was one of the reasons she kept herself so busy.
Work on the refurbishment would continue easily without her, but some things could not be so easily substituted. She’d shot Emily a quick message before take-off – |I’ve been summoned to London. I might not make it.| Then she'd shut her phone off. Touchdown was still a good few hours away, and she wouldn’t see any reply before then, but neither was she keen for the concealed disappointment of any response. Their friendship was tentative, forged from a dry cleaning bill for a bloody backseat and a concerned phone call. But it was Jay she was thinking of.