Page 21 of Every Silent Lie

“It’s fine. I don’t think we’ll fit anything else on this table.” He starts moving things around, a semi-scowl on his handsome face, making the lines across his forehead deepen. And his phone rings again. Every muscle in him seems to tense, his jaw twitching as if he’s gathering patience. “Do you mind?”

I wave him off, taking some water as he answers.

“What?” he says, short, listening for a few moments, his eyes narrowing. He fascinates me. I could watch him for an eternity, and it’s in this moment I realise he’s not actually eternally impassive. I see emotion on his face, like now as he scowls his irritation. I’ve seen mild frustration, and I’ve seen relief. But no joy. No warmth, although I feel warmth from him. But does anyone else? Or do they get the stern man I’m looking at now, as he listens, obviously wound up about something? I can see why someone would be wary of him.

The formidable businessman.

Or simply a formidable man?

The person on the other end of the line’s voice is clear, not because they’re speaking loudly, but because it’s so quiet in here. “What do you want us to do?” they ask.

“They want a bidding war, we’ll give them one.”

“Dec, as your adviser, I’m telling you you’re already paying too much for this company.”

“They’re cowboys looking to make their name by chasing me out of the deal. I’m not backing down. Ten million.”

“Jesus.”

“Do it.” He hangs up and calmly rests his phone down, taking a deep breath. “Tell me about your day.”

“It sounds like it’s going better than yours.”

“Mine will be fine.”

“You don’t look like it will be.”

“It will be. Tell me about your day.” He picks up his cup and blows across the top, momentarily making me forget where I am and what I’m doing here. His lips . . . “Camryn?”

I blink and pull my thoughts into line. “I took this job two years ago.” It was a lifesaver. “It was supposed to be a two-year project but I’m no closer to improving the numbers than when I first walked into TF Shipping, which is really hard for me to admit because I’ve done this a dozen times in my career, with success.”

“My father lived by the rule that if something is draining you, walk away.”

His father. The first mention of any family. “Who said I was drained?”

“Your entire aura.”

I clear my throat and focus on my coffee, my hands wrapped around it. “It’ll work out.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then it doesn’t,” I reply simply. I’ve lost a lot more than my work reputation in this world. I’ll live, for what living is worth. Which isn’t much now. My life; it’s just a crawl through a never-ending hell. “Does your father live in London?”

“He’s dead.”

I flinch. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I hated him.” Dec finishes blowing his coffee and downs it. “Do you want my advice?”

“On what?”

“Your job.”

“Go on.”

“You can’t pull a company into shape if you don’t have the full commitment of the owner.”

“I know that,” I say, sounding bored. “I need another year.”