“Adam, what’s got into you? We’ll sign the contract as agreed for a guaranteed retainer of six months, but after that, we’ll need to lose all the back-office staff. Including your lovely Amy. Sorry. It’s a shame because I do genuinely like her. And I can see you do, too.”
Adam’s demeanour stiffened. “Sure I like her. But business is business. I’ve never known Preti to let us down, so if that’s what she thinks, I guess that’s what we’ll need to do.”
In her hiding place, Amy’s cheeks flushed with humiliation. How dare he pretend to care for her, then plot so casually against her behind her back? What an asshole!
“We need to keep the shareholders happy,” Dylan said. “They don’t care about our dead brother or our little side projects. This is business.”
“And it’s for Ivan,” Adam said. “He made a huge sacrifice, and so others will need to be sacrificed, too.”
The three men started to talk about their plans for a memorial plaque for Ivan, but Amy couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying. Her ears thumped as the blood pumped cruelly through them; her mind blurred with betrayal. She felt like a piece of paper, torn in two. It was like Adam had ripped out her core
and trampled on it. She felt physically sick – as if he’d punched her. How stupid to think he cared for her! This was worse even than finding her ex-boyfriend fucking his assistant, because she’d fallen out of love with him months ago. But this… was she was more upset with herself for believing Adam’s charming bullshit or with him for being such a bastard? But she’d known he’d been a bastard right from the start. Why was she surprised now?
Amy gripped the bannister for support and realised that she needed to get out of here now. She wanted to go back to her hotel; back to London. But Adam was technically about to become her boss. And apparently he was planning to make her redundant! What a fucking asshole. She wanted to kill him. But she couldn’t make a scene here – not at his parents’ wedding anniversary party. But obviously she couldn’t stay here – how the hell was she going to contain her simmering fury?
Amy realised she couldn’t hear the brothers talking any longer. She glanced down through the gap in the bannister and saw an empty piece of wooden floor where they’d been standing a moment ago. Plotting her downfall. She assumed they must’ve gone back into the grand hall, so she crept down the stairs into the hallway, feeling her mind swirl with painful embarrassment. She was delicate and flimsy, like a squashed insect.
When she reached the bottom step, she staggered and rested against the bannister.
Adam’s mother strolled out of the kitchen carrying a bottle of Champagne, which she almost dropped as she saw Amy’s limp sweat-drenched body. “Amy, what’s the matter, dear? Are you feeling unwell?”
Amy forced herself to be polite. “Yes. I think I’ll go back to my hotel.”
“I’ll get Adam.”
“No, please. I don’t want to see him. Will you please tell him I’ve gone? Tell him I’m feeling very sick and ill.”
“Of course. Come on, I’ll help you to the car. His driver will take you back to your hotel. Are you sure you don’t want to see Adam?”
Amy bit back her tears. “I don’t want him to see me like this. I’m sure you understand.”
“Yes, I understand. Come along, dear; it’s okay. You’ll be okay now.”
Amy grasped Adam’s mom’s proffered arm, wishing she could break down into those maternal arms and tell her the truth about her bastard son. But of course she couldn’t. She pulled her steely cloak back around herself – cursing herself for ever letting it drop – and reminded herself that yes she would be okay – as long as she stayed away from the back-stabbing double-crossing Adam Quinlan from now on.
Chapter Fourteen
Amy climbed out of the car and jogged in her heels up the hotel steps, wanting nothing but peace, solitude, and the contents of her minibar. Her body throbbed with dismal humiliation and stormy anger. She’d spent the entire car journey back here churning over what she’d heard Adam saying to his brothers about letting her go. It was the dismissiveness of it all that hurt so much. It’d all happened so fast – in mere seconds her delusion that Adam might care for her had been sliced with sharp shears – like snipping the strings of a marionette. Now Amy’s mind flailed in a lonesome wasteland, unsure of how to deal with this.
Why the hell had she allowed him to get under her skin? She’d been so determined not to let it happen, precisely because she knew she’d get slammed in the chest with Adam’s unfeeling iron-fist – and now she was paying the price.
She stepped through the ornate door into the hotel lobby, and her dream of tranquillity exploded. It was like Times Square at rush hour. Businesspeople and tourists swarmed everywhere, like buzzing insects in an electric storm. She braced herself, then strode across the lobby, but a crowd of sightseers blocked her way as they lined up with their tour-guide. She glanced around for an alternative route and set off again, squeezing past chattering bodies and cursing this assault course of a journey to the elevator. The artificial lights dazzled her weary psyche – it was like being swept around in a hurricane.
Amy pushed through the lively bustle and towards the sanctuary of the elevator, determined to get to her room, so she could have a calming shower and get shit-faced. Everything would be fine. She’d coped with worse than this. Sure, her heart was broken and her job was at risk, but so what? She would simply stay away from men from now on, and she’d easily find a new job; a job she truly loved. She just needed to get through this pain and survive, exactly as she had so many times before.
She halted at the elevator door, but the sound of a man shouting her name made her body tense up like an steel rod. Obviously this was going to be Adam, chasing after her and begging for forgiveness. Would she give it to him? No, definitely not… Well, probably not. It depended what he had to say for himself.
He called her name again, drawing close behind her now. She spun on her heel, ready to confront him for being a bastard. But she recoiled as she realised it wasn’t Adam.
Standing calmly in the eye of the hurricane around them was Tariq Shard.
He was staring intensely, but smiling gently. Fear gripped Amy’s body, eclipsing her other jangling emotions. Tariq was obviously here for her. But why? Perhaps the time had come to hear him out – the Quinlans were liars, and – after all – she was here to protect the interests of Grafton Techs. But her emotions were raw, and she didn’t know if she could handle more bad news right now. What if he told her something terrible and she humiliated herself by breaking into Adam-induced tears? Or worse – what if he was a murderer? No, she wasn’t going to give him any time this evening. If it was that urgent, Tariq could speak to her tomorrow. She’d had enough of men for tonight.
She turned back to press the elevator call button.
“Ms Carter,” he said. “I’d like to talk to you. I mean you no harm.”
“I’m not interested. Leave me alone.”