Divinely Living (Surviving Series) (14 page)

***

Thomas Collins’ office was everything the Jacobson & Fitzgerald offices weren’t. Situated in the heart of London’s commercial sector, it was warm, inviting and bore none of the cold, heartless atmosphere the two top floors of the solicitors building in Canary Wharf did. Reaching the decision to return to Chicago meant going armed with as much knowledge and understanding of my inherited business as possible. Cameron’s regular liaisons with his father and their personal solicitor Jonathan during his time there gave them an insight into A.M Enterprises that was invaluable. As uncomfortable as it felt being there, there was no avoiding doing so if I intended my trip to Chicago to be a successful one.

Thankfully, Jonah gave little protest when I suggested meeting with Thomas and Cameron alone. Kissing my cheek as I left, he spoke of hitting the gym then going home and grabbing fresh clothes and items he would need to pack for Chicago. It would be the first time he’d been back there since he followed me to France. I’d grown used to the idea of having his support in the US; in fact I could hardly believe I actually thought going it alone was a good idea. Having him there and beside me felt right somehow. Jonah’s presence was a natural soother and a blanket of comfort. And God knows when the time came to board that plane; I would need that more than ever.

Sat in a reclining leather chair, a grey haired Thomas cast his experienced eye over paperwork Cameron brought back with him from his trip. Dressed in a tailored grey suit, white shirt and matching grey tie, he looked years younger than his actual age and oozed professionalism. Cameron sat beside him, his rich brown eyes focusing on anything within the room, other than me. His usual dark spiky hair was slicked to the side, his naturally tanned skin darker since his trip to the states. His grey fitted t-shirt and black jeans were unusually casual attire for work but what immediately grabbed my attention was the white plaster cast wrapped around his left hand and wrist that rested in his lap. Concern furrowed my forehead, as did the uncomfortable atmosphere that lay between us. Smoothing my red shift dress over my crossed legs, I faced a deflated looking Cameron with questioning green eyes.

“Is everything okay Cam?” My gaze fell upon his wrist.

“Boxing injury,” was his short and clipped reply. Still he refused to look at me.

“Let me guess, I should see the other guy?” I offered, in a feeble attempt at humour.

“Something like that,” he replied flatly. Turning towards his father, his sharp dismissal made my heart sink. He could barely look at me, and that hurt. I expected Cameron and Charlotte to take the news of my reconciliation with Jonah badly, but not to the point where he couldn’t even look me in the face.

“I don’t think you need me to hang around any longer,” his words were directed towards Thomas; “I’ve served my purpose. I want no further involvement in this from here in.”

“And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me more than you’ll ever know,” I said in a small voice.

Glancing at me for the first time since I entered the office, an unmistakable hardness set in his eyes. “You have a funny way of showing your appreciation Savannah.”

“That’s enough Cameron,” his father cut in, “whatever your feelings regarding Savannah’s private life choices may be, she’s still family and still deserves our help and support regardless.”

Running a large hand through his slickened hair, Cameron relaxed further back in his chair. His tight t-shirt strained against the bulk of his muscular arms, chest and stomach, his body tense and wound tightly. Restrained anger radiated from him in waves and I cursed myself for being the one to make him feel so on edge and unhappy.

Placing the papers he was reading on the large mahogany desk that divided us, Thomas leaned forward in his chair and rested his arms on the desktop. “First of all, let me apologise for my son. His fight with a punch bag seems to have also affected his head and his ability for civility.”

Rising from his chair, Cameron’s face turned thunderous. “I’m not sitting here and being made out to be the one in the wrong here, Dad. I travelled thousands of miles for her because she needed my help. I didn’t expect betrayal in return and neither did Charlotte.”

Stalking towards the door without a passing glance in my direction, he pulled open the door and headed out into the corridor beyond. The need to put things right had never hit me so hard. Jumping to my feet, I hastily followed Cameron out of the office and into the corridor.

“Cameron wait,” I cried, my request a desperate one.

Already half way down the narrow walkway, he stopped in his tracks, his hands fisting in his jeans pockets. Reaching for his elbow, his shudder as my hand connected with his arm was obvious. Tugging on his arm, he turned slowly to face me.

“I hate this, Cam. I miss you and Charlotte so much.” God did I miss them, more than I realised until this moment.

Leaning against the corridor wall, he hung his head and breathed deeply. “What do you want from me, Ava?”

“You in my life again, I’m so sorry for everything.”

Shaking his head slowly, he raised his head with sadness in his eyes. “You can’t have it all your own way. I’m sorry but you just can’t.”

Placing my palms on his defined chest, I looked up at him. “What’s wrong Cam, tell me what I’ve done to hurt you so badly.”

His gaze held mine. “Surely you know Ava, for Christ’s sake gorgeous, you can’t be that damn naive.” He placed his uninjured hand across both of mine. “You have to know by now how much you mean to me.”

“You mean a lot to me too, more than you know.”

His eyes closed and broad chest expanded beneath my palms as if he was fighting for breath. “I’ll kill that mother fucker if he hurts you again. That’s how much you mean to me, how fucking precious you are to me.” His eyes opened and softened. “Why did you take him back? What does he have that I don’t?”

My breath stuttered and pulse raced while disbelief rushed me. I’d desperately tried to deny what I was beginning to suspect for a while but there was no denying it anymore. His feelings and emotions warmed those dark eyes of his and were etched across every inch of his wildly attractive face. Dropping my hands, I backed away from him. “You deserve better than me Cameron.”

His arms snaked around my waist and drew me to him. He smelled divine, a potent mixture of expensive cologne and working male. Pressed against his rock hard body, what should have felt wrong and uncomfortable strangely didn’t. He felt good, too damn good.

“I don’t give a fuck for what I deserve,” he buried his face in my hair that was worn down and breathed in my scent; “it’s what I want that matters and I want you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

His head lifted abruptly and arms loosened around me. “Would it have made any difference? Would telling you how I feel about you have stopped you from being with Jacobson?”

The question needed no thought because the answer was crystal clear. I may have been confused temporarily with my feelings towards Cameron but the way I felt about Jonah couldn’t have been more transparent. I replied truthfully, the words simply rolled off my tongue. “No, it wouldn’t have made any difference.” His arms fell to his sides as I stepped backwards. “Nothing would have stopped me from giving Jonah a second chance. I love him.” I looked straight at him. “I love you too, just not in the same way. I’m so sorry Cameron, I really am. I would never have asked you to go to Chicago and become involved in any of my crap if I’d known how you truly felt about me. I’m selfish and self centred and don’t deserve your friendship or the feelings you have for me, I really don’t.”

Pushing away from the wall, Cameron leaned forward and planted a kiss on my forehead then cupped my cheeks in his hands. “One of the most endearing things about you is that you always fail to see yourself how others see you, how I see you. You’re
it
for me Ava and it’s been that way for far too long.” His hands released my cheeks. “If Jonah is the one for you then I will have to accept that. But like I said, you can’t have it all your own way, gorgeous. Seeing you with him rips my fucking heart out and I can’t keep torturing myself with hopes of something that is never going to happen.”

He turned and began walking towards the glass exit door at the end of the corridor. Watching him walk away cut through me like a knife but it was only fair to him to let him go. My feelings for Jonah were never going to change and I honestly never wanted them to. I only wished that my happiness could have been realised without being at the expense of someone I cared for deeply. Suddenly Charlotte’s actions made total sense. Her relationship with Cameron was a strong and close and always had been. She must have picked up on his feelings for me right from the start, hence her harsh reaction to Jonah from the moment he came into my life. Her hatred for our rekindled relationship was perfectly understandable even if it also bordered on unfair. She loved her brother and he held her complete loyalty, as rightly he should. I just wished either one of them would have stepped forward and told me the truth sooner so their pain could have been avoided. Then maybe, just maybe they would still be in my life.

Cameron paused as he reached for the door handle. I swallowed back a ball of unshed tears, his small smile when he looked back at me, had them threatening to fall.

“I just need time Ava. I can’t be around you right now.”

“I understand,” I nodded.

“But if you need anything, anything at all, you come to me. Do you hear me?”

I nodded again. Without another word, his large frame disappeared through the door and those goddamn tears I tried to so hard to hold back began to spill down my cheeks. I cried for Cameron, for Charlotte, for myself and for friendships lost, for now, but ones I fully intended to get back, whatever the hell it took or cost me to do so.

The taxi ride home from the Collins’ office provided time for reflection, as the driver skilfully weaved his way through the narrow streets of central London. Summer was in full swing, the air sticky and humid as it beaded sweat across my clammy skin. Leaning my head against the passenger window in the rear of the cab, I stared out but in reality saw nothing. Kicking off the red peep toe wedges that matched my dress, I pulled my knees underneath me and ran the mornings events through my exhausted mind.

Rubbing a hand over the pain in my chest that began to ache the moment Cameron left the building, a real sense of dismay fell upon me. Revealing his feelings for me must have been incredibly hard for
him to do but a large part of me was glad he had. Admittedly, he only confirmed what I had denied and refused to admit for a while now, which only made asking him to go to Chicago on my behalf even more guilt to bear. Was I sub-consciously using his love for me as a way of persuading him to do what I wanted? Did I ask knowing he wouldn’t be able to refuse me? Whatever the answer may be, I couldn’t help but blame myself for ever thinking the idea was a good one. And I vowed there and then to never ask friends to do my god damn dirty work ever again.

With the glass vibrating against my temple, the sensation was strangely soothing. Closing my eyes I thought back to my meeting with Thomas and while it was an uncomfortable situation for us both under the circumstances; it had left me at least a lot wiser to the workings of A.M Enterprises and what I could expect once I arrived there. By all accounts it seemed that Alex ran a tight ship with his business practices on the outside, legal and above board. Obviously Thomas, Cameron nor Jonathan knew what Jonah had shared with me regarding the shadier side of his business dealings and could only take things at face value. A.M Enterprises was a thriving import and export company trading in the global distribution and importation of anything from rare antiques and art, to more specialised building materials, as well as sidelines in clothing and household products. Having forged strong links with major shipping contractors both in the States, Europe and Asia, it was clear that for the right price, Alex was able to get anything a customer required from anywhere around the world. And from the profit margins the company accountants declared, customers were paying extortionate amounts of money daily, for the company’s services, and continued to do so.

Ten shareholders made up the controlling board although as the major shareholder, Alex retained total control. Since his death, an internal war had raged between the nine remaining members. Each fighting for control and the role of leader was throwing the company into disarray. A more experienced member by the name of Mason Carter was currently residing over things, but other shareholders didn’t accept his authority, they were demanding the true CEO take over where Alex left off. Basically, they were unwilling to deal with anyone other than Alex’s inheritor and, luck of all fucking luck that just happened to be me. Jonathan informed me that the clause that was stated in Alex’s will that I was unable to sell the company and it was to remain in my family’s hand was legal and binding and there were no loop holes he could find to relinquish my obligation to keep hold of something that quite frankly I didn’t want. The bastard ensured his will was airtight and I was bound by its conditions. Even from his fiery resting place the fucker was pulling my strings. And I hated him even more than before for still having the power in death to do that to me.

As well as the business, Jonathan’s pouring over the full details of my inheritance found I also owned Alex’s mansion in Chicago, holiday homes in Mexico, Aspen and Hawaii and numerous vehicles including Harley Davidson motorcycles, high powered super cars and a yacht he moored in Monaco. His wealth and extravagant lifestyle knew no bounds and all the possessions he spent years amassing had been passed onto me. What the hell did I know about Harley’s or sailing around the damn Mediterranean? The more they revealed I owned, the more deflated I became. This inheritance was a curse, a way of Alex remaining a poisonous presence in my life whether I liked it or not. That’s the reason why everything had to go. His taint lay over everything he touched and I couldn’t allow myself to be exposed to it any longer. The only way to ensure that he became nothing more than a bad memory was to sell everything he left,
and then come up with a worthy way of distributing the money, until there was none left. Only then would I be free of him, free of my past. And that was way more of an attractive prospect than holiday homes I would never use and modes of transport I would never travel by. Fuck him and fuck his money I cursed silently. My life needed to go forward not backwards and the sooner I sorted things in Chicago, the sooner I could return to my safe haven of London and start to live my life. Jesus knows I’d earned the right to do just that.