Page 46 of The Devil's Deceit

“He does. Just act natural and give him more attention than me.”

“Flattery.”

“Precisely.”

“Got it.”

There’s a momentary lapse in conversation, although I’m more than happy just sitting here and listening to herbreathe. Fuck. Who even am I?

“Christian?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s good to have you back.”

Her statement makes me ridiculously happy. “It’s good to be back, Duchess. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“If we float the fund before the end of Q4, the market will self-correct on the back of the interest rate freeze.”

Listening to Robert Le Blanc’s droning voice makes it challenging enough to hold my attention, but bond and stock markets have always been difficult for me to follow, and today is no different. I nod along as though I’m comprehending every word, like I understand the complexities of the conversation. I can follow enough, but I’m nowhere near an expert like Robert or my father.

“We’d need to hedge our exposure to commodities if we go down that route,” Dad says. “But, yes, I believe that would work. What do you think, Christian?”

My stomach bottoms out. I’d hoped to survive the entire meeting without being called to contribute, but Dad’s untimely question has put paid to that idea.

“I think hedging is always a good plan. I’d loop in compliance, too.”

Dad smiles, the weathered skin around his eyes crinkling. “Excellent idea.”

The two men dive into the intricacies of the deal, and I breathe a sigh of relief that I’ve kept up appearances. My mind turns to Grace. The last woman who consumed mythoughts to this extent was Miss Houghton, my year nine buxom English teacher. Thirteen and brimful of hormones, I’d jerked off to the idea of my head between her tits every night for months. Then she’d walked into class one day, announced she was getting married, and the little fantasy bubble I’d manufactured burst in a rather painful manner.

“Christian.”

I blink, dragging my attention back to the present to address my father. “Sir?”

“Are we boring you?”

I curse, pushing thoughts of Grace to the back of my mind. “Not at all. My focus drifted for a second.”

“I understand the subject is a little dry for your tastes.” Dad chuckles. “Christian is far more comfortable poring over architectural drawings and plodding through building sites, but I think it’s important for one’s children to engage in all aspects of the business.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Robert says, nodding enthusiastically. “I wish my children showed more of an interest in my business. You’re lucky, Charles.”

Dad’s expression blooms with pride. “Yes, I am.”

And right there is another reason never to let Dad know what a screw up I am. His pride in me, and his belief, is something I couldn’t bear to destroy.

The meeting runs over by five minutes, and by the time we step into the lift to travel down to the lobby, I’m on pins over this meeting with Grace. If I don’t get myself under control soon, my father will notice something’s off, and the gig will be up. I smooth my tie and use my phone to fixate on, humming quietly to myself.

We exit on the ground floor, and as I scan the expansive lobby, my eyes are drawn to Grace like a fucking magnet.She’s dressed in a navy trouser suit, her blonde hair in loose waves over her shoulders. She clocks me, dips her chin ever so slightly, then walks in our direction. I should feel guilty for deceiving my father this way, but as long as I marry and have the obligatory two point four children, I’m not sure Dad will care all that much how we get there.

Marrying Grace allows me to fulfill my duty, have some fun with her until the novelty wears off, then continue with my life exactly as before. As for kids… we’ll figure that part out in a year or two. There are other ways to have them that don’t involve sex.

Her eyes are on her phone as she approaches us, and at the very last minute, she looks up, her attention on my father. He notices her immediately and breaks out into a smile.

“Why, Grace, how lovely to see you.”

Grace returns his affection. “Mr. De Vil, sir. The same.”