Insidious
Page 8

 Aleatha Romig

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I dramatically massaged my forehead. “Thank you again. I hope this doesn’t put you out.”
She shook her head. “Not at all. You stay and review as long as you need. Anything to help Mr. Harrington in his hour of need.”
I managed a smile, with my jaws clenched tightly together. It was the best I could do.
A few minutes later, I was alone with my coffee and the document. Why was he truly reviewing this? Was there something I missed ten years ago? Hell, undoubtedly I missed something. At eighteen I had no idea what all the clauses and addendums meant. It wasn’t until he later explained that I realized I’d signed a legal document with the devil himself.
I began to read:
This agreement is hereby entered into willingly and without coercion between Stewart Allen Harrington, hereinafter referred to as Mr. Harrington, and Victoria Ann Conway, hereinafter referred to as Ms. Conway. Mr. Harrington and Ms. Conway hereby agree on May…
The terms of this binding agreement between Mr. Harrington and Ms. Conway are as follows:
1. Mr. Harrington and Ms. Conway agree that all that occurs under the terms of this contract are confidential and consensual.
The door opened. Expecting Maggie or even Trish, I turned impatiently. Parker Craven’s dark glare bore into mine as he entered, a cloud of heavy cologne hanging around him. The realization of his afternoon whereabouts paralyzed my movement until I straightened my neck and returned his stare.
“Victoria, what are you doing?”
The tips of my lips moved slowly upward. There was no way it reached my eyes. Loathing was all I could feel. The rush of blood that filled my ears and eyes narrowed the scene to a tunnel. No one else existed. I felt his sweaty hands on my skin. I couldn’t allow him to see my hatred. It was my fuel, my energy to carry on.
Refusing to show him my reaction, I opened my eyes wide, and said, “Parker, nice of you to tend to me personally. Your assistant said that you were with a client.”
He looked down at the document. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes, you did. I’m reviewing the contract that Stewart and I signed.”
“Why?”
I lifted my brows innocently. “Because he told me to. After all, he said he’d reviewed it with you and I should do the same. Didn’t he tell you?”
“He told you that? When?”
My teeth ached from clenching. “Why, it was this afternoon.”
He inhaled deeply. “This afternoon. He told you that this afternoon?”
“Am I stuttering?”
He glared in my direction. Before he could respond, I softened my tone. “Oh, Parker, sometimes he doesn’t know exactly what he’s saying. I’m very concerned about the decisions he’s making. Why, just this afternoon, I was with him at home and he told me that you’d been to the apartment. I’m sorry I missed you.”
Parker Craven reached for the document. “I don’t know what you think you’re—”
I slapped my palm on the pages. The clap echoed throughout the small room as my eyes bore into him. “Mr. Craven, I believe that you and your firm have been hired by my husband and me. If you want that arrangement to continue in the foreseeable future, you will not attempt to stop me from seeing documents that pertain to me: this or any other.”
“I can’t allow this without Stewart’s permission.”
My grin widened. “Do you not believe that he sent me?”
“That he sent you this afternoon? No.”
I leaned back, still holding the document. “Why? Why would you doubt me?”
“Mrs. Harrington? Oh, Parker.” Brody said, opening the door and interrupting the palpable confrontation. Looking from Parker, to me, and back, Brody continued, “Maggie mentioned that Mrs. Harrington came by and needed assistance. I thought you were with another client.” Brody motioned toward the door. “If you need to get back to your other client, I’d be happy to help Mrs. Harrington.”
Parker narrowed his gaze. “Brody, this is a delicate matter between Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. I believe it would be better if—”
“Thank you, Mr. Phillips. I believe my husband has put his trust in you and I will too. Now, run along, Parker. I’m sure you have catching up to do. I hear you’ve been out of the office.”
I’m not sure if the senior partner had ever been told to run along. But by the crimson seeping from his cheeks to his ears, he wasn’t happy about it at this moment. Without a word, he left the room and Brody gently closed the door.
In a hushed tone, he asked, “What are you doing? What did I walk in on?”
“Brody, can you make a copy of this for me?”
“I suppose.”
“Do that. Then you and I can go through it with a fine-tooth comb.”
I DIDN’T KNOW if I could trust Brody enough to share my revelation about Parker. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure I could stomach saying it aloud. Memories of my first meeting with Parker Craven, thoughts of discussions and dinners, as well as time spent with his wife, playing tennis, attending charity functions, all combined to bring back my nausea from before. I knew in the pit of my stomach that today hadn’t been our first encounter. The ghostly scent of his cologne seeped through years of sexual encounters until all I wanted to do was bury them in a deep, bottomless tomb.
Brody touched my knee, bringing my thoughts out of the pits of hell and back to the ONE Bal Harbour Resort suite. “Hey, we have a copy of the contract. We don’t need to go through the whole thing tonight. Besides, this is sick-assed shit and you’ve had a rough day.” His eyes widened as his hands went up in surrender. “I’m sorry, Vik. I don’t need to know what you went through, or what he made you do, but just being here, sitting next to you… you’re different than you were this afternoon. I feel you pulling away. Don’t give him that power.”